Azzat opened the door. “You can’t be here.”
“Phone. Please let me use your phone.”
Azadeh argued with Azzat in Dari until the man agreed to let them use his phone. He wouldn’t let them past the entrance though.
“He says we need to leave when done.”
Ghost needed to wrap his wound, or he would bleed out. He tore off a piece of his ragged pants and wrapped his leg while he waited for Azzat to come back with the phone. Ghost hoped he wouldn’t call the Taliban. Ghost had saved Azzat’s son’s life when a fight had broken out in the streets. He hoped Azzat would pay him back. Azadeh stood next to him, making a noise, with a tight grip on his hand. When Azzat came around the corner with a phone in his hand, Azadeh’s grip loosened. Ghost hadn’t been the only one worried Azzat might’ve called the Taliban.
Before Azzat could change his mind, Ghost grabbed the phone and called the one person he knew could get him out of his mess.
“Hello.” The voice was sleepy.
“Noah, I need help, and I don’t know who to trust. I was captured by the Taliban four days ago, and this girl—her name is Azadeh—helped me escape. I owe her my life. My teammates were killed, and the base has been compromised.”
Unlike Grayson, who was still oblivious, Ghost had figured out years ago that Noah was in the CIA and had contacts.
Noah let out a slew of cuss words. “Where are you?”
“Jalalabad. Off Chawki Talashi in District One.”
Ghost could hear Noah’s fingers tapping a keyboard. “Can you make it four blocks? I have a contact at the Afghan Hotel who can hide you until I can get someone there.”
“Can you have medical there when I arrive?”
“Yes.”
Azzat tapped his wrist, indicating Ghost’s time was up. “Thank you, Noah. I’ll contact you once I make it to the Afghan Hotel.”
Ghost handed Azzat the phone. Azadeh hadn’t let go of his hand. She held onto him for dear life. As Ghost reached for the door, an explosion knocked him off his feet. The building crumbled, and the last thing he heard was Azadeh’s cry before the world caved in around him.