Sikes, using his twenty Arabs as assistant instructors, was in the middle of having his infantry mujahideen run through squad formations with their AK-47s when the call reached the mountain meadow where the drill was taking place. The men immediately abandoned the activity and hurried up toward the village beneath the caves, leaving the Arabs confused and dismayed at this unauthorized departure. Warrant Officer Shafaqat Hashiri looked over at Sikes, raising his hands in a gesture of perplexity.
Wot the bluddy hell! Sikes shouted in rage as the mujahideen made a rapid disappearance.
Captain Naser Khadid, beside him, laid a hand on his shoulder. Calm yourself, Sikes Pasha. The smugglers have returned from their latest expedition.
Yes, Sikes Pasha! Jandol Kakar said. It is a time of great excitement and joy among the people.
The young translator Malyar Lodhi was also excited. Let us go see their arrival. Tadi kawa hurry up!
Sikes signaled Hashiri to form up the Arabs, then reluctantly allowed his three companions to lead him from the meadow, back up into the higher country where the village and caves were located. I swear to God! he grumbled. There's gonna be some discipline applied around here before much more time passes. And I don't give a thundering fuck who I offend!
When the men reached the village, it seemed that every single man, woman, and child of the community was present, and all were yelling and talking at the same time. Even Orakzai and his attendants stood with the throng, gazing upward at the trail that led down from the lookout post. After a couple of minutes, loud shots erupted and the women's shrill trilling sang out over the scene.
The first man, leading a heavily laden donkey, appeared from the boulders. He waved down at his people as he continued toward them. Then another man appeared with a burdened donkey, then two more, another, and yet another, until a total of twenty could be counted.
Sikes leaned toward Kahnani. Wot's on them donkeys then?
Many things, Sikes Pasha, the Iranian replied. There are gifts, tools, food, and other items prized by these Pashtuns. That is how the Pepsi and potato chips are brought in here. Also He pointed to a couple of donkeys. See those cubes of metal? That is scrap for the blacksmiths to melt down for their work.
Now Sikes became excited. Look at them ammo boxes, hey?
That would be the ammunition you wanted for the machine guns and mortars, Kahnani said. The smugglers do a double duty. There are sellers of many wares awaiting them in Turkey at the place where they turn the opium powders over to the buyers. That includes Harry Turpin when he has things for us.
Now physical pandemonium broke out as the people surged forward. Several blacksmiths took the reins of the donkeys with the metal and led them away. The smugglers were hugged by their male relatives with smiles and more shouts of greeting. Sikes noticed the women stayed off to one side, looking happy but demure, though they made no rush to welcome any of the men as husbands or relatives.
One of the smugglers went up and shook hands with Yama Orakzai. Malyar tugged at Sikes' sleeve. That is Husay Ban-gash, the chief of the smugglers. A very important man.
Orakzai and Bangash spoke for a few moments, then left the location to go up to the Pashtun leader's cave. Sikes watched them for a moment, then turned his attention back to the activity at hand. I want that bluddy ammunition, he said.
We can get it now, Sikes Pasha, Malyar said. There are the donkeys with the crates. Call to four of your Arabs and we shall fetch them.
Sikes bellowed at Hashiri to send a quartet of the men to him. When they arrived, Malyar took them to the animals. After the boy spoke some rapid Pashtun to the smugglers, the animals were turned over to the Arabs. Sikes gestured to his warrant officer, Hashiri. Take them bluddy little beasts up to the bivouac with the men. I'll be there shortly.
Hashiri saluted and barked orders at the Arabs to get them moving. As the group headed up the far slope to where they had established their camp, Sikes went over to the smugglers and began circulating around, seeing what had been brought in. Khadid walked with him as Kakar explained who the stranger was to the opium runners, who had never seen Sikes before. They were slightly leery of the Englishman, but greeted him with respect when they learned he was the new field commander.
Sikes noted bolts of cloth, canned food, sugar, salt, flour, sandals, clothing, and other items to meet the basic requirements of a simple life. The potato chips and Pepsi were also being picked up, every family representative getting a certain amount. Sikes pointed to the activity, asking Khadid, How come they don't get Coca-Cola or maybe some fruit juice, hey? And why crisps all the time? Ain't they heard o' pretzels or crackers?
Khadid shrugged. They can only obtain what the trader with the opium buyer has to offer. He, on the other hand, must take what his own supplier can produce for him to sell. Right now it is Pepsi and potato chips, and has been for more than a year. Who knows when something else will be available. At any rate, the Pashtuns consider them delicacies.
I'd like to see them poor bleeding blighters in a proper supermarket, Sikes remarked. They'd think they died and went to heaven. He grinned. Right, then, let's get to the bivouac and see what sort o' ammo ol' Harry sent us, hey?
They had to follow a steep path up to the Arabs' bivouac. The area was a small plateau between craggy outcrops of boulders that offered good cover and concealment. The Arabs had set up two-man lean-tos made from extra ponchos and shelter halves arranged in convenient spots among the big rocks. When Sikes and Khadid, along with Malyar and Kakar, arrived, they found the donkeys had been unloaded and the crates were stacked neatly beside Warrant Officer Hashiri's bucolic quarters.
Sikes immediately inspected the crates and had them pried open. He liked what he found inside. Here then! he exclaimed.
Look wot we got in this'un, hey? Sixty-millimeter shells for them Spanish mortars! He laughed. Them Pashtuns is gonna be glad to learn they won't have them heavy Soviet M-Thirty-Sevens to lug around, hey?
The sixties will be much better for mountain operations, Khadid remarked. It looks like the second crate has more of the same.
Let's have a look at them other two, Sikes said. The third and fourth crates contained 7.62-millimeter ball ammo that could be used in both the AK-47s and the Soviet PK machine guns. This is a good start, but we'll need more.
There will be three additional deliveries of the same thing, Khadid said.
Well! Sikes said. You're real sure of yourself, ain't you?
I'm the one that put in the supply requisitions, Sikes Pasha.
And you made a damn good job of it, Cap'n Khadid, Sikes said in good humor.
Further inspection of the ammo boxes was interrupted when one of the mujahideen in Orakzai's headquarters guard came up the hill. He went straight to Sikes and babbled some words at him.
Malyar stepped into the breech. Sikes Pasha, Orakzai Mesher commands you to dine with him and Husay Bangash at sunset.
I'll be there o'course, Sikes said. As soon as his reply was given, he turned to Warrant Officer Hashiri. Get some tarpaulins to cover this ammo. And I want at least two bluddy guards on it twenty-four hours a day, yeah?
Yes, Sikes Pasha! Hashiri replied, snapping to attention.
.
ORAKZAI'S QUARTERS
1900 HOURS
THE three men Archie Sikes, Yama Orakzai, and Husay Bangash sat in a circle on the thick carpet in the firelit cave. Bowls and plates of food were spread between them, consisting of samosas, fried bread, and the contents of some of the vegetable and fruit cans brought in by the smugglers. Several women had been honored with invitations to prepare the meal. The trio of diners ate by dipping their right hands into the dishes to pick out what they wanted.
Sikes had been surprised to learn that Bangash had lived for several years in Chicago in the United States. He had gone there on a student visa to study at DePaul University, overstaying his time. As an illegal alien, he began living and working in the city's Muslim neighborhood. His English was excellent, and he spoke with an accent that was almost American. Sikes had been surprised by the informality the man used when talking to someone the other Pashtuns addressed as Orakzai Mesher.
