Page 61 of Stand Fast

“The shipment’s been seized,” he said to the new driver as he slammed the passenger door shut. “I need to get back to Kabul as fast as possible.”

He ran a hand through his hair and fought to calm his jangled nerves. That had been way too damn close. He’d barely escaped the village before the Americans had inserted.

If not for the tunnel system, he would have been trapped, and either dead or captured by now. Thankfully he’d received enough warning to make it through the tunnel and out the exit at the end, outside the village walls. He’d made it to the valley on foot, using the terrain to try and screen his movements from any satellites or drones they might have monitoring the area.

Whoever the DEA’s informant was, he was linked to someone in Fahim’s inner circle. It was the only explanation for how the taskforce had gotten a lock on the shipment’s location at some point late last night.

Who was it? Who the hellwasit? He thought he’d taken care of everyone the DEA had been using for information on him. All of them winding up dead by one method or another should have been a strong enough deterrent to prevent this situation.

Pulling a burner phone from his pocket once he was within range of a cell tower, he called his only remaining lieutenant. “They’ve seized the shipment and almost got me with it.”

A moment of startled silence followed. “Where are you now?”

“On my way back to Kabul.” If the military wasn’t already following him, he might have a chance to make it back. He pulled in a calming breath before continuing. “We have to find out who their informant is. He’s too close, and knows too much.”

“I just got off the phone with someone claiming to know who it is. I’m not sure how reliable he is though.”

“Follow up on it and report back to me immediately. I want to take action, send a message once we find out who it is.” He would show no mercy to whoever had sold him out to the DEA. He paid dearly to ensure the villagers stayed loyal to him and kept his secrets.

“Of course.”

“Leave everything else and focus on this. I want to know who it is by tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

He ended the call and put the phone away, glancing in the side mirror to see the lightening eastern sky. Another clear, cold day, only a scattering of clouds overhead. Perfect conditions for tracking him with a device.

He thought of his wife and son, imagined them curled up together in Beena’s bed. His fingers itched to pull the phone back out so he could call home, but the nights were always hardest and he didn’t want to disturb them or rob them of the precious amount of sleep they were able to get.

It took another ninety minutes for them to reach the outskirts of Kabul.

“Take me to my office,” he said, reaching into the backseat to withdraw a fresh uniform from a bag left there. After changing, it took just another ten minutes until they reached the building. Since it was barely six in the morning, the heavily secured compound was quiet, with only a few guards on duty.

His assistant wasn’t in yet, so he strode straight to his office and opened the door. He stopped short at the sight of his wife sitting in front of his desk. “What are you doing here? Where’s Beena?” he croaked out.

Her dark eyes looked bruised underneath, her skin pale and stretched thin over her bones, the weight of exhaustion making her look a decade older. “Where have you been?” she whispered, her expression full of reproach.

His heart thudded against his ribs. “We were conducting an operation.” He’d told her that before leaving Kabul last night.

“I called you and called you, but you didn’t answer,” she choked out, and his heart constricted with sheer terror.

“What’s happened? Is it Beena?”

The reproach bled out of her gaze, only to be replaced by a haunted look. “He’s at the hospital.”

His heart seemed to stop beating.No…

“My mother is with him. I…I had to get away, just for a little while.” She let out a ragged sigh. “He had a really bad night. The worst night yet. And there was nothing I could do for him except sit and hold his hand while the ambulance rushed him to the hospital—” She pressed a hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut.

Fahim rushed over and went onto one knee before her, grasping her other hand, his fingers locking around her cold skin. “Is he…” He couldn’t finish the thought aloud, his heart about to implode.

She shook her head, lowered her hand from her face, but the sheen of tears there sliced at his guts. “He’s still with us, thanks be to God. But I fear not for much longer.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled in relief. “God is good.”

His wife remained in the chair, her posture rigid. “You keep promising me that you’ve found a solution.”

“Ihavefound one.”

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