The Identity Thief (22 page)

They made camp on the side of the road. Their benefactors in Gardez had supplied them with two Russian-era tents presumably snatched from the invaders long ago, one to accommodate Traci, the other for the three men. The trio had to crowd in so close, X found his comrades' body odor unbearable. His wasn't any better, he supposed. None of them had bathed for days; not since a sponge bath by a nurse in the prison hospital.

* * *

X was about 150 feet from camp when Harry caught up with him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" the computer ace demanded.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm having a smoke," X replied. He took the pack of Turkish cigarettes from his pocket and held them up.

"Bullshit," Harry hissed. "You're headed back toward Gardez, aren't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," X said. "Do you have any idea how far that is?"

"Don't get any ideas about going AWOL," Harry snarled. "There's a tracking device planted in your body. We can track you down anywhere in the Middle East."

"You're full of shit. Where?"

"None of your business where. I'm not going to tell you so you can pull it out."

X remembered the filling Mr. Jones had so generously replaced. Nice information to keep under his cap. Harry strode up to him and jabbed his finger in his chest.

"Listen, asswipe, I don't like you and I don't trust you. As far as I'm concerned, you're a cowardly, sniveling piece of shit. If it wouldn't jeopardize the mission I'd shoot you right now."

"I'm hurt that you feel that way," X said. "Because I really like you."

"What's going on?"

They turned and saw Asar, who stood nearby scratching his balls.

"Nothing," said Harry.

"I heard you arguing," the teen insisted.

Harry shook his head, trying to appear clueless, but X leapt in.

"It is just a disagreement between friends," he said. "You know the proverb, 'The wrath of brothers is fierce and devilish.'"

Asar looked from face to face, concerned.

"Beware that you do not utter words you will regret. For it is also said that 'The wound of words is worse that the wound of a knife.' "

The two men nodded somberly.

"Let us embrace," X said. He grabbed Harry in a bear hug and the spy did an impressive job of faking enthusiasm as he returned the embrace.

The trio returned to the campsite, Asar entertaining them with a traditional Afghani song as they made their way through the dimly lit canyon, the crescent moon over their heads.

The first bandit X spotted was the one holding Traci in a chokehold, the seven others came from behind them, Kalashnikovs pointed at their heads.

"On your knees," barked a tall, gaunt man with a scar stretching from his right eye to his top lip. Harry and X dropped to their knees and a bandit stood behind each of them, rifles pointed to their heads. Asar hesitated. An impatient 6-foot-4 thug grabbed him by the nape of the neck and forced his face into the dirt.

"Search the truck," said Scarface, whom X took to be the leader. Three of the highwaymen held the trio in place while four others searched the truck.

With the captives subdued, the leader strutted back and forth like a rooster newly crowned king of the barnyard.

"You should know you need permission to pass through these mountains. You camp a stone's throw from our base? We will have to teach you respect."

"We are but simple carpet merchants on our way home to Pakistan. That is my brother and his wife, and our nephew," X offered. "We know we have to pay a bribe to pass this way. Here, in my pocket."

The man guarding X dug greedily into his pocket and yanked out the bag. He poured the gems into his hand and whistled.

"There must be $1,000 worth here," he gasped.

Harry shot X a dirty look. "How was that smoke, Aban?" he asked.

"Here!" said the leader. His henchman, somewhat reluctantly, tossed the bag over.

Traci had been rousted from a deep sleep by the bandits about five minutes before X and the others returned to the camp. She was clad in a white cotton slip that fell nearly to her knees - supremely modest by Western standards - but still felt nearly nude without the veil and heavy garb she'd become accustomed to over the past few days. The guy guarding Traci held her in the chokehold VERY close. To her disgust, she became aware that he'd sprouted an erection, which was now lewdly poking her backside.

The men searching the back of the truck tossed out the carpets, and soon found the Kalashnikovs, the AK-47s, the grenades and the rocket launcher.

"You still claim you are merchants," Scarface said with obvious amusement. "Opium traffickers more likely. Where is your stash? Are you going to tell us or do we have to start checking bungholes?"

"We are in the service of the Warriors of Allah," Asar blurted. "I am the personal driver of The Chief."

"If you are enemies of the Americans, you should aid us," Harry added.

"Well, you see, I'm not very political," Scarface informed them. "I prefer sports. Did you see the game between New Zealand and Brazil? The satellite reception isn't very good here in the mountains, but we saw the second half. A great game."

His men laughed.

"You are a Tajik and that one is a Pashtun," Harry said. "I am a Saudi. But we all have a part in the struggle."

"You fools want to be martyrs, don't you? And receive your 77 virgins?" Scarface said, then spat contemptuously. "You will have your chance to bed your heavenly harem shortly."

The appeal to religious solidarity didn't seem to be working all that well, but Harry carried on undeterred.

"You cannot frighten us. Being killed in the cause of Allah is a great honor," he said. "The Prophet tells us, 'I wish to fight for Allah's cause and be killed, I'll do it again and be killed, and I'll do it again and be killed.' We yearn for this kind of death as much as you yearn to live."

Scarface bowed. "I am glad to be of service, then. I will be happy to grant your fondest wish. But first you'll tell us where the cash is. I know they sent you with some American money in addition to the diamonds."

One of the men jumped off the truck,

"Look what I found," he said, excitedly holding up Harry's laptop.

One of the others leaned over his shoulder and whistled. "It's a beauty!"

Harry tried to struggle to his feet and was promptly shoved back down. That laptop was critical to the mission.

"Be careful with that," he shouted.

"What is this for?" the leader demanded.

"Video games," X said.

Scarface laughed. "You have a good sense of humor. I'll kill you last."

"We use it to communicate with The Chief," Harry explained.

"Thank you for the gift," Scarface said, waving the laptop. He winked at X. "I am partial to Grand Theft Auto myself."

Meanwhile the man holding Traci continued to take liberties. He put his right hand on her breast and began to squeeze it, as if he were testing a tomato for ripeness.

"You are their leader," Traci called to Scarface. "Are you going to let a good Muslim woman be molested by this son of a pig?"

"As I said, you people must learn respect," Scarface replied. "And the first lesson will be how to treat a woman. I'm certain your husband will learn a lot from watching us."

Now having been given the green light so explicitly by his leader, the bandit restraining Traci grew bolder. He stuck his hand between the agent's legs and began groping her.

"Don't worry, you'll have her back when we're done with her," Scarface told Harry. "And there are only eight of us."

"Do you not fear the wrath of Allah?" Asar cried.

Scarface knelt beside the teen. "I am sure that you are a religious man and will do your duty. You will obey Sharia, your holy law, and stone your sister-in-law to death for her sin of 'adultery.'"

Asar struggled in fury, but his huge guardian had him firmly by the neck. Another bandit - a dwarf no taller than three feet - climbed off the truck with the box of cash.

"Got it," he shouted.

"Count it," Scarface commanded.

The little man opened the box and began to count, "$100 ... $200 ... $300 ... "

X thought back to the dwarf who worked as a barker for the Pink Panther. This fellow was even shorter, he thought.

The man behind Traci slid his rough, callused hand up under her skirt and began stroking her inner thigh. She gasped as his middle finger entered her.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured in her ear. "We won't kill you, just the others. I am probably a lot bigger than your little husband, but I will be slow and gentle with you."

"$600 ... $700 ... $800 ... " the pint-size henchman was counting. "$900!"

"Next week, we'll eat steak at the finest restaurant in Kabul, my friends," the bandit leader exclaimed in delight. "And be entertained by the best whores in town." He glanced at Traci and as if loathe to give offense, bowed and corrected himself, "I mean belly dancers."

"Listen," X said. " I am Ali Nazeer, a valued operative of the Jihadist Brotherhood. Deliver us to The Chief and he will reward you handsomely."

Scarface's jaw dropped.

"Hey, we saw a story about this guy on CNN," one of his men said.

"I remember. Well, well, well. That casts a new light on things. What do you mean by 'handsomely'?"

"We are close allies. I am sure he would pay a million for my safe return."

The bandits began to chatter excitedly.

"An interesting proposal," Scarface said. "I wonder how much the Americans would pay?"

"Perhaps more," X said. "But do you want to be known in these mountains as the man who collaborated with the Americans and turned over their worst enemy to them?"

Scarface stroked his chin thoughtfully.

A few feet away, the bandit's thick, dirty finger was stroking in and out of Traci, very rapidly and very deep. Her breaths became heavy. It was the first time she'd been touched by a man down there in over a year.

"Do you feel me behind you?" he whispered, thrusting forward for emphasis. It was a stupid question, because the guy was hung like a donkey. Slowly, she began to rotate her ample behind against him. He gave a grunt of satisfaction.

"I am going to show you how a Pashtun makes love to a woman," Donkey Dick whispered. "How you will cry out with pleasure when I split you in half!"

Traci reached under her slip and placed her hand firmly on his, sinking her nails into his flesh. She moaned audibly.

"She loves it," her captor announced to his associates. "She's wet as a duck in a pond."

The bandits began to chortle.

Asar roared in fury, "Get your hands off her, you pigs. Allah will see that you all burn in the fires of hell."

The man holding him by the nape of the neck shook him with a loud guffaw.

"It's your own tight little ass you have to worry about, pretty boy," the huge bandit said. "We'll make a woman of you next."

It was hard to tell whether this was mere taunting or the big bruiser truly had libidinous intent. In any event, the teen's eyes widened in horror.

X squinted for a better look at Traci and saw that tears were running down her cheeks, which were bright red. Come on, was the uptight FBI agent really getting turned on by the touch of some hairy, one-eyebrowed thug? He'd sensed it had been a long time since she'd gotten laid, but still ...

I always suspected you had a freak flag, doll, but what a time to fly it!

The bandit leader strutted over to Harry and patted him on the shoulder.

"It looks like you've married a true slut, my friend," he told the kneeling man. "You haven't been taking care of things at home, eh? Don't worry, we'll handle it from here."

Harry turned away, as if refusing to witness his "wife's" debasement.

Scarface stepped toward Traci. The woman, whose hand was lost under her dress, caressing her captor's hairy wrist, bowed her head in shame. Scarface tipped up her chin to look her in the eyes.

"Are you ready, sweet flower?" Scarface asked, grinning and grabbing his crotch like a gangsta rapper. "You know the leader's turn is always first."

"I'm ready," she whispered. "And you will be first."

The agent pulled the Beretta from its holster strapped to her inner thigh and came up firing. She put the first round in Scarface's heart. With the next five shots she dropped four of the other bandits, each a perfect forehead headshot, and winged the one holding Asar in the shoulder. The big guy was the only one who got even a chance to scream, scrambling to his feet and racing down the road like a jackrabbit.

When she'd emptied the gun, she flipped Donkey Dick over her shoulder and as soon as he crashed into the ground, she brought the butt of the weapon swooping down to cave in his skull.

Harry sank his teeth into the hand of the bandit holding him. As the guy released his hold, the agent executed a textbook judo flip of his own, and then expertly twisted the bandit's neck until it snapped with a sickening
CR—ACK!