Page 119 of Deadly Betrayal
Khalid picked himself off the floor and,using the wall as support, managed to get on his feet. He wassomewhat surprised that Tariq didn’t knock him down again. “I hadnothing to do with this.”
Tariq sneered. “You knew nothing of the bitchand her soldier?”
Khalid hesitated. If he lied, Tariq wouldn’tbelieve him. “I knew. I was trying to stop them.”
“Until they stole your car.” He spat on theground.
“Yes.” Khalid hung his head in a manner heknew would be pleasing to the power-hungry warlord.
“Did you mean it when you said you wanted herstoned for her unfaithfulness?”
“Yes.” Khalid swallowed the bitter taste inhis mouth. He had meant it, though he no longer did. That didn’tmean he wanted the American to have her. All the reasons he’dwanted to marry Azita still applied.
Tariq nodded. “Then we’d better findLaila.”
Khalid moved away from the wall he’d used toprop himself up. “Let’s keep looking.” Stepping through the door,he exited the building and blinked at the sudden brightness. Heused his hands to shield his eyes. That’s when he saw them: two ofthe attackers who’d clearly also seen him. Khalid kept quiet. Wouldthey shoot him? Take him prisoner? They would if Azita had learnedof the punishment he and Tariq had planned.
Tariq and his son stepped out and stoppedbeside him. Someone yelled in Pashto, “Drop your weapons. On theground. Now. Now! Get on the ground, hands above your head.”
Khalid immediately fell onto his stomach,hands in front. He had no weapons. If they intended to kill him,they’d have to do so in cold blood with a bullet in his back.
Tariq followed suit. Slowly. But Tariq’s sonappeared to be frozen.
“Drop your weapon!” the soldiers shouted asone moved directly in front of the boy.
Khalid’s fists clenched. He’d seen thisscenario play out too many times. A young boy, high on adrenalineand testosterone, desperate to prove himself a man. “Put it down,Zardab,” he said, remembering the boy’s name. Tariq remainedsilent, a veritable statue. What did the crazy bastard want his sonto do?
The boy let out a wild cry and squeezed thetrigger. Bullets sprayed in an arc. The soldiers fell to theground, firing their own weapons. Khalid flattened himself as muchas he could and prayed for forgiveness. He’d made many mistakes,but if Allah permitted him to live, Khalid would make things right.He’d be a good father and husband, as well as a good president. Hesqueezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t time for him to go yet.
The shots ended as abruptly as they’d begun.Zardab lay in a pool of his own blood, and Tariq was nowhere to beseen. A soldier had his fingers to the boy’s throat. He looked atthe other soldier and shook his head. The moment was oddly solemnand not what he’d have expected from these men.
Cautiously, so as not to spook them, Khalidlevered himself on his arms and settled into a crouch. The soldierclosest to him gripped his arm and forced him to stand. Khalid’sheart pounded so fast he swayed. The soldier’s grip tightened.“Khalid Mullazai?” he asked.
“Yes,” Khalid answered in Dari. There was nosense lying when the men clearly knew who he was.
“Come with us.”
So he was to be a prisoner then. He’d seenvideo footage of the horrors that had taken place at Abu Ghraib.Wherever these soldiers were taking him, he hoped it wasn’t a placelike that. He’d prefer a quick death.
The man nudged him forward. Khalid went,although he kept an eye out for Tariq. Would the warlord shootKhalid now in retaliation for the death of his son? In somecomplicated way, Khalid acknowledged he was responsible foreverything that had transpired here today. As a group, Khalid andthe two soldiers crossed the camp. They appeared to be headedtoward the northern section of the fence.
They turned a corner and met up with twoother soldiers, who eyed him warily. “This him?” said a man whowasn’t so much tall as he was imposing. Immediately, Khalidunderstood him to be the leader.
The soldier holding him answered, “Yep. Welost the warlord though.”
“No worries. He wasn’t the mission. At leastnot today.” He pointed to the fence, then to two of the soldiers.“You guys go first.” They nodded and quickly sneaked under thefence while the rest kept an eye out for Tariq’s men. Khalidwatched, anxiety building in his stomach as the soldiers ran, lowto the ground, across an open field. His gaze swung to thesurrounding buildings. Was Tariq here? Were his men preparing toshoot them all once they’d gathered on the other side, like pennedanimals?
When the leader indicated it was his turn,the soldier holding Khalid hurried him to the fence. Only now didKhalid see the shallow ditch going under it. It was oddly fitting,like something a dog would dig to escape a caged enclosure.
The soldier narrowed his eyes. “I’m goingnext. When I say so, you push yourself in headfirst. Run or try toalert the enemy, and you’ll be shot down. Got it?”
The man’s Dari was crude, but the message wasclear: obey or die. “Understood.”
Ten seconds later, the soldier was on theother side. “Go.”
Crawling on all fours, Khalid got as far intothe tunnel as he could before he needed to continue on his belly.Dirt clung to him, filled the air and his lungs. He resisted theurge to cough, knowing the sharp noise would carry and alertTariq’s men to their position. He didn’t know what was going on,but he suspected Azita was close by, and he’d not do anything toput her in harm’s way.
The soldier caught his hands and dragged himout of the tunnel. “Run,” he said, curving himself around Khalid,shielding him and forcing him to stay low. The soldier’s actionsshocked him. Why would the man protect Khalid? Were they rescuinghim? The thought boggled his mind.
