Chaos in Kabul (28 page)

Malko was silent for a few moments. Then he asked Nadir,
“Can’t you take me back to the house where I was this morning?”

The young man’s face fell. He looked frightened.

“They might be waiting for you there, too.”

“Then go see your uncle! Ask his advice!”

“I am afraid to,” Nadir admitted. “I am afraid they will arrest me. They will not do anything to my uncle, for political reasons, but it is not the same for me.”

They were at an impasse.

Malko desperately racked his brain, trying to come up with a solution.

Going back to the Serena was suicide. He didn’t know the way to Maureen’s house and didn’t want to telephone her. He had to buy some time. Suddenly, he had an idea. It was dicey, but he didn’t have any choice.

“All right, then. Take me to the Iranian embassy.”

Kotak’s nephew looked astonished.

“The Iranian embassy?”

“That’s right. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, of course.”

After a long silence, the young man said something to Koshan, who started the VW bus. A quarter of an hour later they were driving
along the NDS complex wall, then stopped at the next roundabout.

“There is the embassy,” said Nadir.

“I know, thanks,” said Malko. “Tell your uncle to send me a text if he can still help me.”

He took off his turban and shed the
shalwar kameez
he’d been wearing over his Western clothes. Sliding the side door open, he stepped out onto the empty sidewalk. Sharpoor Street was deserted.

The VW bus immediately took off, and Malko waited for it to be far away before turning around and retracing his steps. He walked about a hundred yards past the big TNT building. He knocked on a heavy wooden door, which was promptly opened by a man with a straggly beard. As usual, three guards were camped out in the forecourt with their AK-47s.

“The Gandamack Lodge!” said Malko with a smile.

They immediately let him in, and he walked to the second gate, the one that led to the guesthouse proper. There, too, he had to ask to be admitted, but his Western face was as good as any passport. He walked around the empty garden to the entrance.

It was out of caution that he hadn’t had himself dropped off in front of the guesthouse. Who knew what might happen to Nadir? This way, if he was interrogated he could only say that Malko’s destination was the Embassy of Iran, which would baffle his questioners.

Malko entered the small lobby and walked over to where the night clerk sat dozing at his desk. He looked up blearily as Malko studied the keys on the board.

His stomach tightened. The key to Room 4, where Alicia Burton stayed, was on its hook. The young American wasn’t in. There was no point in quizzing the clerk; he probably didn’t even know her name. So Malko made for the dining room. There were quite a few people there: journalists, NGO staffers, and a few Afghans.
British expats, especially, liked the Gandamack. Malko sat down at an empty table.

At this point, only Alicia could possibly bail him out, at least for the short term. He couldn’t very well sleep in the street.

Tomorrow would be another day. For now, he was too tired and his brain wasn’t working.

He ordered dinner but ate without appetite, praying that the young reporter wasn’t away overnight. If she was, he would really be out of luck.

An hour had passed, and the diners were starting to leave. Some had rooms at the Gandamack; others were heading home. Nobody had asked Malko anything.

He paid the check and went back to the front desk.

This time his pulse started to race. The key to number 4 was no longer on its hook! The night clerk didn’t even lift his head. Without hesitation, Malko walked by him and started up the staircase, his heart pounding. The stairs creaked and the hallway was dim. He got to door number 4 and knocked very gently. He heard noises inside, the sound of a key turning, and the door opened.

On a woman in a black burqa!

Malko stood rooted to the spot, thunderstruck. All he could think was that Alicia had moved out and some Afghan woman had taken her room! He was about to back away when a voice emerged from the burqa.

“Malko!”

The sound was music to his ears. Hesitantly, he asked, “Alicia? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” said the somewhat muffled voice. “Come on in!”

He slipped into the room.

The young woman grabbed the hem of the burqa and pulled it off, revealing an ordinary dress underneath. Her hair disheveled, Alicia said, “You’re lucky to catch me. I just got back from Jalalabad. When I go, I wear a burqa; it’s safer. The road isn’t secure.”

She flopped down on the bed.

“What brings you here at this hour of night? You look kind of wasted.”

“It’s a long story,” said Malko. “The NDS is after me, I can’t go back to the Serena, and I can’t take a plane. I tried to leave Kabul by road, but that didn’t work out.”

He told the young woman his misadventures, concluding, “I had to kill an Afghan, and I’m still carrying the gun that shot him. You’re running a risk by taking me in.”

“Well, I’m not about to turn you away,” Alicia said with a smile. “No one’s going to come looking for you here this evening. The desk clerk is convinced that all Western women are prostitutes, so he won’t be surprised at my having a male guest, if he even noticed. Tonight, at least, you’re in no danger.

“After that, I don’t know. There are snitches in the hotel, and they might wonder about your presence here.”

“We’ll see tomorrow,” said Malko.

Alicia had undressed and was now down to bra and panties. She was sexy as hell, but Malko was too tired to be interested; his libido was running on empty.

“You look exhausted,” she said. “Get into bed.”

He did so, with pleasure. In moments he was under the sheets, soon joined by Alicia, who had shed her last garments. Sweetly, she climbed into his arms and murmured, “I’m glad you came here to hide out.”

The warmth of the young woman’s skin did Malko good. He put his arms around her, feeling her breasts pressed against his chest.

Touched by her kindness, he kissed her neck and said, “I’m sorry.”

Alicia merely said, “The bed’s pretty narrow. I hope you sleep well.”

Malko was so exhausted, he could have slept on a bed of nails.

As he slowly awakened, Malko found himself lying on his back, with pale light filtering through the curtains. He reached out to his sides without touching anything. The bed didn’t seem that narrow. And he had it all to himself.

Suddenly he became aware of a weight pressing on his stomach. Reaching in that direction, he encountered warm flesh: Alicia’s hips. Now fully awake, he realized why he hadn’t found the young woman beside him: she was astride him, kneeling on the sheets.

His fingers moved up and encountered two small, firm breasts. At that, Alicia began to rock very gently, pressing down on his stillsoft cock. She leaned close and murmured:

“You seem less tired this morning.”

Her rocking movement was now frankly erotic, and Malko felt his desire stirring. The scene was unreal. He closed his eyes and let nature take its course. Without exchanging a word, they gradually excited each other. Malko could feel himself swelling. He took Alicia’s nipples and gently twisted them, drawing little sighs from their owner. He stroked her hips as she raised herself to give his cock some freedom to move.

Glancing at the now rigid prick rising along her belly, she took it in her left hand and raised it to vertical.

“See? All you needed was a good night’s sleep.”

In fact, all Malko needed now was to be inside this beautiful, more than consenting woman. His libido was completely aroused. As he did each time he escaped danger, he felt a furious desire to make love.

Eros and Thanatos. An old, very comfortable couple.

“Come on!” he said.

Alicia obligingly lifted herself, like a rider posting in a trot, and seized his prick. The moment it brushed her burning folds, Malko gave a savage grunt, seized Alicia’s hips, and pulled her down, entering her in a single thrust.

He felt as if he was coming back to life.

The young woman gave a little cry. “Hey, easy does it!”

Initially, she set the tempo, sliding up and down on his cock, her eyes closed, nipples erect. But Malko accelerated the rhythm, raising and lowering her more each time, until she gave a shout and collapsed onto him.

He could feel her heart pounding on his chest. They enjoyed a long, delicious moment together; then Alicia slipped off and ran into the little bathroom.

Leaving Malko appeased.

Just the same, his anxiety quickly returned. He had won a few hours of freedom, no more. Staying on at the Gandamack would be insanely risky, but he couldn’t think of what else to do.

When Alicia emerged from the bathroom, he was no further along in his thinking.

She gave him a bright smile and said, “Take a shower; then we’ll go down and have some breakfast.”

It was in the shower that Malko dreamed up the outline of a solution. It was an option he would have preferred to avoid, but he was at the end of his rope. He waited until they were in the dining room to ask Alicia the question that was now on the tip of his tongue.

“Are you going to be contacting the Ariana Hotel?”

“Yeah, they’re interested in what I saw in Jalalabad. Why?”

“How do you go there?”

“My driver takes me. I let the Ariana security services know I’m coming, and they give my license number to the various checkpoints around the Green Zone. That way I get through with no sweat.”

“Could you take me with you, but without anyone knowing ahead of time?”

“Sure,” Alicia said promptly.

Malko had just found a reliable way of reaching the CIA.

“I don’t want to show up at the Ariana by myself. What time do you plan to go there?”

“I have to call and have the guard station give my number to the checkpoints; it’ll take about an hour.”

“Good,” said Malko approvingly. “But whatever you do, don’t mention me.”

They went back upstairs to Alicia’s room, and she got on the phone.

“It’s all set,” she announced a few minutes later. “We’ll go at ten. I’ll be seeing Warren Michaelis.”

“He’s going to be surprised,” said Malko. “I’m sure he doesn’t expect to see me.”

Alicia’s car stopped at the roadblock just before the French embassy, the first of three checkpoints. In the distance, the Ariana Hotel with the watchtower on its roof was visible. A soldier checked her papers, made sure the old Toyota had a Green Zone permit, and let them through.

Alicia and Malko sat silently in the backseat.

Same procedure at the second checkpoint.

At the third, a soldier ran a mirror under the chassis, checking for explosives. They then dealt with the Gurkhas guarding the Ariana Hotel proper. Malko had to show his passport, but given the color of his skin, they didn’t ask any questions.

Still, he didn’t breathe easy until the barrier protecting the hotel courtyard was finally lowered. Alicia’s driver parked the Toyota in front of the building, and she and Malko went over to the Marine guard station. Telephone calls, verifications.

Five minutes later, a young case officer emerged from the elevator.

“Mr. Michaelis is expecting you, Miss Burton,” he said. “Are you with her, sir?”

“Very much so,” said Malko.

“Do you also have an appointment?”

“Mr. Michaelis isn’t expecting me. I wasn’t able to call ahead. But he’ll be happy to see me.”

The case officer hesitated but finally said, “I seem to remember seeing you here before. Okay, come along. I hope I don’t get chewed out for this.”

“I doubt it,” said Malko.

On the third floor they were ushered into a small waiting room with sagging chairs. Malko’s stomach was tight. How would the station chief receive him?

A few minutes later, Michaelis opened the door in his shirtsleeves. On the threshold, he stopped dead and said, “Holy cow, Malko! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I’ll explain in a moment,” said Malko. “I think you have a few matters to settle with Miss Burton first. I can wait.”

“Go down to the cafeteria and I’ll meet you there,” Michaelis suggested. “One of my deputies will take you.”

Malko knew the station chief had a lot of questions for him.

Malko was working on his second cup of insipid coffee
when Warren Michaelis joined him. Sitting down, the station chief gave him a long, searching look.

“The last time we spoke was five days ago,” he finally said. “I haven’t heard from you since. Why haven’t you called?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. I have to consult with Langley first.”

“Where have you been?”

“In Kabul, and outside it, for a while.”

The men were both ill at ease. Michaelis spoke again. “After the attack on President Karzai, I had a disturbing conversation about you, and I have to admit that it bothered me.”

“With who?”

“Jason Forrest. He hinted that you were somehow involved in the attempt to kill Karzai.”

“Did you believe him?”