Mt. Kanzalwan Thursday, 4:16 p. m.
Sharab could barely feel her fingers as she put the receiver back inside the radio. Despite the heavy gloves and the constant movement, the cold was beyond anything she had ever experienced. Her hands were numb when they were still, like dead weight. They burned when she moved them and blood was forced to circulate. It was the same with her feet. Her eyes were wind-blasted dry. Each blink of her icy lashes was agony.
But the worst pain was still the one inside. It had been strongest in those moments when the powerful winds slowed and the overhanging rock receded and the sun burned through the murderous cold. When survival was not a moment-to-moment concern and she had time to think.
Sharab had let herself be outsmarted by Indian security forces. She had let her nation, her people, and her fellow patriots down. That failure had cost brave Ishaq his life. And it had brought her and her small loyal militia to this precipice, to this flight. Her failure had made it unlikely that they would escape these mountains and tell the world the truth, that India and not Pakistan had been responsible for attacking the Hindu sites.
And yet, as it said in the Koran, 'the wrongdoers shall never prosper.'
Perhaps Allah forgave her. It seemed as though He was looking out for her when this man dropped from the sky. Sharab did not like or trust Americans. They made war on Muslims around the world and they had traditionally curried favor with New Delhi instead of Islamabad.
But she would not question the will of God. It would be ironic if this man were to provide them with salvation.
Ron Friday was still lying on his stomach. To the right, Nanda was huddled with her grandfather. Sharab would deal with them in a moment.
She told Samouel to help pick the American up. Together, they pushed him back under the ledge, against the wall. It was even colder here because the sun was not on them. But there was less chance of them slipping off the ledge. Until Sharab heard what this man had to say, she did not want him falling to his death.
The man groaned as she pinned her forearm against his shoulder to help him stand.
'All right,' Sharab said to him.
'Tell me what you know.' 'What I know?' Friday said. Puffy white breath and gasps of pain emerged from his mouth with each syllable.
'To start with, you shot down our ticket out of here.'
'You should not have come unannounced in an Indian helicopter,' Sharab replied.
'That was stupid.'
'Unavoidable,' Friday protested loudly.
The exclamation was followed by a painful wince. Sharab had to lean into the man to keep him from doubling over.
She wondered if he had broken some ribs in the hard landing.
But that was all right. Pain could be useful. It would keep him alert and moving.
'Never mind now,' Friday said.
'The main thing is that the Indian SFF set you up. They set Nanda up.
She helped them blow up the temple and the bus. According to our intelligence, the SFF thought that would help solidify the Indian people behind the military. Nanda probably did not know that the Indian military intends to respond to the attack with a nuclear strike.' 'For destroying the temple?' Sharab said. She was stunned.
'Yes,' Friday said.
'We believe certain militants will tell the populace that it's the first shot of an Islamic jihad against the Hindu people. Moderate government ministers and military officials may have no choice but to go along.' 'You said you have intelligence,' Sharab said.
'What intelligence?
American?' 'American and Indian,' Friday said.
'The pilot who brought me here was a Black Cat Commando. He had special information about SFF activities. Our people in Washington arrived at the same conclusion independently. That's why they're diverting the American strike force from their original mission.'
'Which was?'
'To help the Indian military scout for possible Pakistani nuclear emplacements,' Friday replied.
'They came to help India and now I'm supposed to trust them?' Sharab declared.
'You may not have a choice,' Friday said.
'There's something else. While we were searching for you we saw a force of Indian soldiers headed this way. They're moving in a wide sweep down from the line of control. You'll never get through them.'
'I expected that after we killed their commandos in the mountains,' Sharab said.
'How many are there?'
'I could only see about one hundred soldiers,' Friday told her.
'There may be more.'
'How many American soldiers are there and how will they find us?' Sharab asked.
'There are about a dozen elite soldiers and they've been watching you by satellite,' Friday said.
