The Puppetmasters (12 page)

As they began to walk through the market, she observed two men look down at their feet, laugh, and quickly shake hands. She turned to Rashid. “What’s that all about?”

“We Afghans are very superstitious people. It looks like their feet touched accidentally. In our culture, you must immediately shake hands or you will get into a fight with that person.”

She shook her head in amazement. They stopped at a cart loaded with grapes. He bought a bunch. They also bought some succulent dumplings and barbecued kebabs. When Kendall saw the cart ladened with stacks of fresh, warm, garlic
naan
bread, she gave Rashid an imploring look.

“Oh, I love this bread!” He was pleased that she was becoming familiar with their food. He was very happy to buy the
naan.

They came to the meat market section and she looked at the rows of hanging carcasses. She inclined her head toward the meat. “I’m almost afraid to ask what these are.”

“These are mostly goat and lamb.”

“Aren’t they afraid of the meat going bad in this warm weather?”

“They are okay for one day. It actually helps the meat age and taste better. These will all be sold by the end of the day. People have parties and reasons to celebrate. You know, the standard of living is much better now than fifteen years ago during the war with the Taliban and, Al Qaeda, and the arrival of the Americans. People may not be able to build big houses or wear the latest in western clothes, but most can afford the local Afghan foods and are satisfied with that.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, and she wanted to ask,
So, what is the problem then?
but realized this was not the appropriate place or time for a philosophical discussion on the modern challenges in Afghanistan. She noticed there were a lot of street children picking up discarded soda cans and other items and hawking everything from chewing gum to small pots of coal, which she was later informed was to ward off evil spirits. These children looked very dirty. A handful surrounded them, begging for money. Obviously, not everyone could afford even a meager life. She sighed at the ragged clothes and mournful but hopeful eyes when their arms thrust out hoping for an
Afghani
or two. Rashid looked at her, shrugged his shoulders, dug into his pockets, and gave out as many
Afghanis
as he had to the most needy-looking street urchins.

They swung back to the other side of the street toward their vehicle and nearly got run over in the attempt. Rashid grabbed her arm in a protective vise-like grip and waved off the driver. He continued to hold her arm all the way to their vehicle. Kendall couldn’t tell if he had forgotten that he was holding her arm or was purposely doing it. He seemed reluctant to let go when they reached the jeep. She hastily scrambled to her side of the vehicle and climbed in, declaring, “Whew! We made it, and in one piece too!” They both laughed.

“Where are we going now?”

“We are going to have our meal at Lake Qargha Park. We can walk around in privacy and be able to talk.”

As they drove up, Kendall was surprised to see a carnival-like setting, complete with rides. There was even a street vendor rolling cotton candy referred to as
cotton floss.
They gathered their food from the jeep and walked past the boisterous crowds. As the squeals of delight from the local children faded, they approached the lake shore. A young boy charged past them on his horse.

Kendall was delighted when Rashid rented a boat and motored away from the shore. There were quite a few paddle boats near the shore, but their motorboat allowed them to move further out from the shore and away from the noisy crowd. Besides, the motorboat was a lot larger, and she could move about easily.

They had their midday meal in silence. Rashid produced two bottles of water, some of which they used to wash the fresh fruit. Although the local drinking water was a lot cleaner than a few years before, it was still not safe enough for Kendall. Rashid did not want her to get sick … particularly with the plans he had for her. She would need her strength and wits about her to survive the next few weeks.

T
HE CALL FOR THE NOON
prayer
Duhr
sounded. Rashid and Kendall were far away from the shore. She stole a quick glance at him to see his reaction. He looked around and saw that no one was near and they were obscured by a land spit with downed trees at the shoreline. They were completely hidden from view.

She couldn’t stand it. “Don’t you have to pray?”

Rashid reckoned the truth telling had begun. “Well, first, not everyone in Afghanistan is a Muslim. In fact, only a quarter of the population is Muslim. The rest are various ethnic groups. I’m not Muslim.”

“What?” she said in an incredulous tone that was more than tinged with rudeness. “What are you then?”

“I’m a Christian of Jewish ancestry raised in a Muslim society.”

“That’s a mouthful. I can’t wait to hear the story. Go on!” She urged him to continue.

“My mother was Jewish and was kidnapped when she was a teenager. She was brought to my father’s village. She was given to my grandfather in payment for a debt that a very bad man owed him. She was educated and beautiful, and my grandfather thought she would be perfect for my father.”

Kendall recoiled in horror. “That is awful! Your poor mother! She was forced to marry your father?” Then it dawned on her that her circumstances were not so dissimilar to his mother’s. “Hmm! I see there is a lot of kidnapping going on in this country! Is that how you all solve your problems?”

“Unfortunately. Her family back in Israel never knew where she was taken. She never saw them again. She and my father made a life for each other. I did not notice that she was unhappy or being held against her will. She certainly loved her children. She taught all of us to read and write, both English and Hebrew. She learned to speak our language right along with her own children.”

“But she was a Christian? How could that be?”

“Her father—my grandfather—was an Arab Christian living in Israel. Her mother—my grandmother—was Jewish. According to Jewish law, the mother’s religion determines the ethnicity of the children at birth.”

He looked directly into Kendall’s eyes. “Do you know what this means?” He fervently hoped he had not made a colossal mistake. She swallowed slowly and pondered the meaning. Her eyes widened.

“You are Jewish by birth? Holy shit! Isn’t that a death sentence for you here in Afghanistan?”

“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It can certainly bring you hardship and discrimination. But it’s not something you want to publicize.”

“Does anyone here know?”

He thought wryly,
Here goes!

“No, as a matter of fact. Only you! I would be in even bigger trouble for keeping this secret—particularly from President Shazeb. That is why I keep a low profile. When I was a small child, my mother constantly told us that our heritage was something to be proud of but not spoken of outside of our immediate family. She put it to us in such a way that we were fearful of our very lives and those of our family if we talked about it. She made the teachings magical and told us that no one else in the village would know these things. She said we were special and were the only ones meant to know this information. It worked great, especially for me. I couldn’t get enough lessons. She taught me that knowledge truly was power.”

He grabbed Kendall’s arm. “Kendall, I have a lot of knowledge and plan to use it very soon. You will be helping me.”

She shook her head in fear, not wanting to be involved in a wild scheme. “I will? How? Are you planning to stage a coup?” She had sought her safest refuge, sarcasm.

He wavered. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Her eyes registered the shock. “Is that why we were kidnapped? To help you overthrow the government?”

He laughed. “No. You are getting a little head of yourself. I didn’t know you and your colleagues were going to be brought to Afghanistan against your will until recently. But I decided that it could fit nicely into my plans.”

“How?”

“First, do you trust me?”

“I barely know you. You could be playing me, for all I know. Anyway, if you are such a good guy, then why didn’t you stop this?”

“Kendall, you are only thinking of yourself. You must look at the big picture. There is much more going on than the Orion issue alone—whatever
that is. It’s just caused me to make some adjustments to my plans and work with what I have.”

“I still don’t know how I can trust you.” She was clearly conflicted.

“Well, consider this. I’ve just revealed something that could get me severely beaten at the very least and more likely beheaded. Believe me, President Shazeb would do it to save face and for the years of lying or keeping the info from him. Knowing Shazeb, it would be for the sheer humility of having lived right under his nose and been a friend to his children and his confidant for twenty years.”

“What exactly do you do for him?”

“Kendall, I’m being completely honest here. I manage his crop deliveries, oversee the manufacturing, and make sure that the end product goes to the buyers.”

“You make it sound so businesslike. You are nothing but a common criminal.”

Rashid felt like he had been stabbed. The pain of the words was unbearable. He really was a good person. She just didn’t understand. He lowered his head. “I probably am. But I’m trying to make it right. Shazeb’s business enterprise is about to close down. I have been working on that project for years. The only way for me to plan all of this is to understand the process. No one would suspect me, and I have free access to every aspect of his operation.”

She felt as if there was more. “And what else?”

“Shazeb’s presidency and his family are about to lose their jobs and maybe their lives as well.”

She waved her finger at him. “Oh, yeah. That little thing you talked about before, the coup! Just how do you plan to do all of this?”

“I have friends.”

“Oh, here it comes. And they are …?” Her voice trailed off as she waited for the announcement. She felt like it was going to be an epic proclamation.

“I’m a member of the Mossad. Obviously, I’m part of their covert operations.”

She laughed. “No way. You couldn’t be. You’ve been in Afghanistan too long.”

“Not really, Kendall. I was sent to boarding school with Ahmad and Saaqib, and then lived in England while I was going to the University. I travel a lot for President Shazeb’s business enterprises.”

“Well, either way, that information would be secret. No one reveals they are part of the Mossad.”

“Generally, that is true. But I have nothing to lose here, and I need your help. If my plan works, this whole country will soon undergo a major change. And the world will be rid of a drug kingpin from the crop all the way to the end product.”

“You’re crazy! How can you possibly pull this off by yourself?”

“Israel is helping me, and you are going to help me.”

“Me? I don’t even like guns, and I’m not very coordinated when it comes to athletic things.”

“First things first. You are going to learn to ride a horse, because that may be our way of escape. We are going to fashion a gym of sorts where you will be working out every day. That will be easy to do, because Shazeb asked me to get close to you. I can convince him that the gym needs to be in secret. That way, the other men won’t both wonder what’s going on and yet watch you too. That could put you in danger. I’m going to teach you how to shoot and throw a knife.”

Kendall felt her head spinning. This was a lot of information to take in, and she felt overwhelmed by the enormity of what Rashid was planning.

“Is the U.S. involved in any of this?”

“Only peripherally. They know Israel is watching Afghanistan. I’m thinking that when it all goes down, the U.S. will agree to use their drones for some well-placed bombings of Shazeb’s fields, manufacturing sites, and the transport vehicles. The U.S. is not happy with President Shazeb and his cruel dictatorship. But, as you know, after the long war with the Taliban and Al Qaeda, the Americans have steered clear of any military actions in the Middle East for years now. As I understand it, currently the U.S. economy has recovered nicely since the war in Afghanistan, and people just want to have comfortable lives. They don’t want America to be part of any wars … for any reason.”

“Well, then, how will you talk the U.S. into helping?”

“This is where you Orion people come in. I know how important an American asset Paul Fields and Glenn Carson are. I don’t think it would take much effort for the U.S. to be talked into sending a rescue team.”

“So, Orion and the U.S. do not currently know where we are.”

“Sort of. But Israel does … through me. As a matter of fact, that’s what I was doing the past couple days. My traveling around and overseeing the drug operation gives me plenty of time alone to get on the satellite phone and converse with my Israeli counterparts. They are actually pleased at the Orion event. They realize that it will be the impetus to force the U.S. to get involved.”

“When do you tell the U.S.?”

“When we are just about ready for the revolution.”

“What needs to happen first?” Kendall absentmindedly squished a little spider that was moving toward her on the seat.

Rashid stated matter-of-factly, “The Shazebs—father and two sons—need to die. Here’s where you can be of help.”

“Oh, no! I’m not shooting or stabbing anyone!”

“That’s not what I had in mind.”

“My God, I know I’m going to regret this. What are you thinking?”

“This is where the Book of Judith comes in. You can wreak a lot of havoc by cozying up to all three Shazebs. It will be most important for you to get along well with the sons and play them off each other.”

Kendall was furious at what she thought she was being asked to do, and stood up in the boat. It began to sway from side to side. “I will not be your Judith! I’m not seducing those men and then cutting off their heads. That was only a story, and probably nothing more than an urban legend. After all, it never even made it into the Protestant bible!”