'Well, godamn it, they don't!' Brannigan said angrily.
'It doesn't make any difference to people from the old country,' Mike said. 'I even know of a girl who was taken out of my high school and sent back to Jordan against her will to get married.' He took a deep breath. 'Anyhow, a warning was sent to the Syrian girl by her younger sister. The boy's family came unglued and made arrangements for them to stay with relatives in Texas. They're still out there as far as I know.'
'Well,' Brannigan said, 'I don't think those cases apply here. These local girls were forced into prostitution. They weren't seduced by pimps or anything. Hell, they were prisoners:'
Mike violently shook his head. 'That don't make any difference, sir!'
Brannigan could see how serious Mike was. He stood up. 'Let's go see that doctor.'
They left the tent and walked toward the UN camp in long strides. 'Say, sir,' Mike said. 'Have you seen Murchison's girlfriend?'
'Yeah,' Brannigan replied as they hurried along. 'She seems like a nice young lady.'
'She's hot,' Mike said in genuine admiration. 'He's a lucky guy.'
'Let's keep our minds on the lives of those poor girls:' Brannigan snapped.
'Aye, aye, sir!'
When they reached the medical tents, Brannigan went straight to the doctor's quarters. Dr. Pierre Bouchier was sitting at his desk filling out forms to be inserted into the UN's administration mill regarding the data on the treatment programs they were using with the Pashtun population. He looked up from the work. 'What can I do for you, Lieutenant?'
'This is Petty Officer Mike Assad,' Brannigan said. 'He's an American of Arab descent, and he tells me that the women taken from the brothel will be killed if they're returned to their families.'
'That's true,' Bouchier said. 'Honor killings, they're called.'
'But it's not the women's fault what happened to them,' Brannigan protested.
'That doesn't matter,' Bouchier said. 'It wasn't too long ago that an Islamic court in Mauritania sentenced a married rape victim to be stoned to death for adultery. Only strong pressure from the UN got her sentence commuted.'
'We can't let these women be murdered,' Brannigan said.
'I haven't the slightest intention of letting that happen, Lieutenant:' Bouchier replied. 'It's not widely known, but the UN maintains an area for abused Muslim women in Cyprus. If I can get these young women to Kabul, they can be easily transported to safety there.'
'Do you need any help?'
'It wouldn't hurt to have some armed men handy if necessary,' Bouchier admitted. 'I plan on calling in our C- 130. It can be here this afternoon. Meanwhile, I'll have these unfortunate victims put in the back of our vans. They can make a quick trip out to the airplane and voila! They will be flown to our compound in Kabul.'
'I'll post some of my men here,' Brannigan offered.
'That is not a good idea, Lieutenant,' Bouchier said. 'We must make things appear as if nothing extraordinary is happening. If the Dharyans get suspicious, I fear it would engender a deadly confrontation. It would be best if you had your men located nearby where they can keep an eye on things.'
'I'll alert my platoon,' Brannigan said. He grabbed Mike by the sleeve. 'C'mon, let's get Senior Chief Dawkins in on this.'
The two SEALs left the tent.
.
BRANNIGAN'S CP TENT
0930 HOURS LOCAL
BRANNIGAN'S Brigands kept their personal weapons, along with extra bandoleers of ammunition, close at hand. Senior Chief Petty Officer Buford Dawkins had placed them on standby in case the situation with the Dharyan women got out of hand.
Brannigan had taken his camp chair out in front of the CP after buckling on his pistol belt with the Sig Sauer 9-millimeter automatic in its drop holster. He also had binoculars in his lap, and he raised them every once in a while to gaze over at the UN camp. He had noticed a small group of indigenous Afghanistan males approaching the tents. He waited for a few minutes, then they reappeared and begin walking toward the CP. He took another look and noted that the young interpreter was with them. The Skipper let out a shrill whistle to alert the platoon.
It took five minutes for the small crowd to reach him, and the Skipper maintained his seat to show he was the boss man. The interpreter spoke in a somewhat forced cordial way. 'Dr. Bouchier has asked me to bring these six gentlemen to see you, Lieutenant. They are inquiring about the women rescued from the brothel, and wish to have them returned to their families. The doctor explained that you were the senior military commander present, and they must speak to you.'
'Sure,' Brannigan said, maintaining a haughty air.
The interpreter turned and spoke to the visitors in Pashto, then gave his attention back to the American. 'This gentleman is Bashar Dahrain, the chief of the Dharya Clan. He is the one making the request.'
Dahrain salaamed politely to the American.
'Tell him that the unfortunate women are receiving medical treatment for a number of ailments and injuries,' Brannigan said. 'When they are deemed to be fit, they will be returned to their families.'
The interpreter translated and Dahrain then spoke at length. When he finished, the interpreter gave Brannigan an apologetic look. 'The clan chief asks you to return them now, sir.'
Brannigan mustered a frown of anger. 'Tell him that would not please me! So I'm not gonna do it, godamn it!'
The message was delivered, though in a more courteous manner than Brannigan had spoken it. The visitors salaamed once more, then abruptly whirled around and stalked angrily away. The interpreter watched them depart. 'I think that will hold them for the time being, sir.'
'Those women will not--I say again--will not be returned to their families to be murdered,' Brannigan said. 'Tell Dr. Bouchier I will give him all the help possible to keep that from happening.'
'He will be happy to hear that, sir.'
.
1430 HOURS LOCAL
THE white C-130 appeared in the distance, the deep hum of its four engines barely discernible. Senior Chief Buford Dawkins quickly alerted the SEALs and formed them up in front of the CP. The whole platoon was present, with the exception of Milly Mills and Gutsy Olson, who were on the afternoon watch.
Lieutenant (J. G.) Jim Cruiser walked up from the Second Squad area just as Brannigan came out to see what the hell was going on. He quickly noticed the approaching aircraft, and he called over to Dawkins. 'Take the guys over to the UN medical tent, Senior Chief. Lieutenant Cruiser and I'll tag along.'
By the time the SEALs arrived at the UN camp, the C130 had landed and was taxiing up toward the tents. Dr. Bouchier appeared, and a look of relief flooded his features when he saw Brannigan's Brigands. 'Mon Dieu!' he exclaimed. 'I am so happy to see you. We have been under constant surveillance by the Dharyans.' He signaled off to the side, and the vans immediately drove up and stopped. The drivers got out and opened the side doors.
'Maintenant! ' Dr. Bouchier said toward the tent flap. 'Now!'
The flap was brushed aside by an emerging nurse who held it open. The first of the Dharyan girls appeared, quickly followed by the others. They were pathetic looking young women, their eyes wide with fear as they nervously glanced around. Brannigan felt a surge of anger as he imagined these teenagers forced to endure the sexual cruelty of lusting, laughing mujahideen.
'Vite!' Dr. Bouchier said, urging them to hurry.
As the last girl emerged, another nurse followed. She counted off six for the first van and another six for the second. Suddenly a dozen men and boys of the Dharya Clan appeared around the tent. When they perceived what was going on, they let out a collective howl and surged forward to pull the girls from the vehicles.
The SEALs went into action.
The Dharyans were unarmed, so the Brigands left their CAR-15s slung over their backs. But they charged forward, and punched their way into the crowd of men. The smaller Dharyans were quickly overwhelmed, but their rage gave them enough strength to fight back savagely. Several tried to go around or through the SEALs to grab at the women. Consequently, the SEALs got rougher and delivered sharp kicks to punctuate the pummeling.
