“It’s not going any further,” Storm declared.
Dilya pushed the Range Rover’s gas pedal and the car’s engine roared, but even with its four-wheel drive and climbing ability, the SUV had reached its limits. Switching off the engine, Dilya left the keys in the ignition and stated the obvious: “From here we go on foot.”
The four of them moved to the vehicle’s rear gate, where they collected their gear. All were wearing hiking boots and had sidearms. In addition to his backpack, Casper was carrying a twelve-gauge pump shotgun on a sling, Dilya had a sniper rifle, and Storm was armed with an AK-47. Oscar, meanwhile, was carrying a bag of various geological gear.
“How far to the border crossing?” Storm asked.
“Only three miles,” she replied. “We don’t have to climb to the top of these mountains. There is a pass that cuts through them, but it will take us at least two hours to reach because of the terrain. It’s important for everyone to watch their footing.”
Storm asked: “How long until we get to Jizzakh?”
“We’ll be there by nightfall.”
“That’ll give them plenty of time to interrogate your girlfriend,” Casper said, taunting him. “Maybe they’ll give her a pretty little scar on her face, too-after they’ve passed her around like a bicycle.”
“You talk too much,” Dilya said. “Save your breath for climbing the mountain.”
“Are there border guards?” Oscar asked.
“Only occasional patrols. There are so many miles of border in these mountains that it would be impossible to watch every pass.”
Dilya led. Oscar immediately began following her, but both Casper and Storm hesitated.
“After you, sweetheart,” Casper sneered.
Storm shook his head, indicating no. He did not want Casper behind him, and Casper knew it. He chuckled and fell in behind Oscar, leaving the rear to Storm.
There was no formal trail and the incline soon grew steep, but not so much that they needed to be roped together. The tops of the mountains were covered with deep snow, which they avoided where possible. About a half hour into their trek, they came to a mound of loose rocks that they needed to climb. It required them to use their hands to help pull them forward as they scaled a series of jagged rocks on all fours. Dilya scrambled up the surface with ease, but Oscar lost his footing and a half dozen fist-sized rocks broke loose and shot down the incline behind him, nearly hitting Casper and Storm.
“Sorry,” he called to them.
Casper cursed, and Storm immediately regretted his decision to be at the bottom of their line. He knew what was about to happen, and a moment later, he found himself dodging another rock that came bouncing down toward his face. It was followed by another, larger stone that barely missed him.
“Oops,” Casper said. “My bad.”
When they reached the top of the loose rocks, they began walking on a goat path that soon led them to a cut between the mountains. The air was thin, and all of them were struggling to catch their breath. Dilya suddenly raised her hand and they stopped. She dropped to her knees. The rest did, too. About three hundred yards ahead of them were two men in Uzbekistan border patrol uniforms. Both carried automatic weapons. They were smoking cigarettes and talking.
Casper duckwalked to where Dilya was hiding.
“Give me the M-24,” he said, referring to the American military-issue sniper rifle that she was carrying. “I’ll kill them.”
“There are two of them,” she said.
“Yeah, so? I’ll drop the second before he figures out what happened to his buddy.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You could miss. One might escape. We will wait.”
“I never miss,” Casper said. “And they could be here for hours.”
“And for what reason?” she replied. “This is a routine stop for them. This path is well known. We will wait.”
Casper let out a sigh in disgust and moved back nearer Storm. He sat, leaned his back against a rock, and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t help but taunt Storm. “Tick, tick, tick,” he whispered. “Every minute we’re stuck here is another minute for them to play with your lady friend. Maybe they’ll just pull off a fingernail, or maybe they’ll take a complete finger or even her hand. How do you like the nickname ‘Stumpy’?”
Storm moved up to where Dilya was watching the guards through field glasses, which she immediately handed to him.
“Every moment we’re stuck here counts,” Storm reminded her.
“These two men are part of a twelve-man squad. They ride in a truck to known crossing areas and then fan out searching for drug runners and other illegal aliens. If Casper shoots them, their companions will know. We cannot save your friend if we are discovered.”
Through the field glasses, Storm saw one of the guards flick a spent cigarette. The guard then turned, and the two of them began walking away from the pass.
“We’ll wait fifteen minutes for them to rejoin their comrades and leave. Then we will cross into Uzbekistan. I only hope that the guards did not discover our new vehicle hidden on the other side of the border. It is a long walk down the mountain to the nearest town.”
Storm thought about Showers. Alone, being interrogated in Jizzakh. He was not a deeply religious man, but he said a silent prayer that there would be a car waiting and that Showers would still be alive when they reached her.
Minutes later, the unlikely foursome walked gingerly through the pass and started down a narrow footpath. Coming down the mountain proved more taxing than climbing it. Gravity tugged at them, pulling them close to the path’s edge, trying to make them hurry their footing and break into what surely would be a fatal run.
They watched for the border guards but didn’t see them.
After about an hour, Dilya said, “There!” She pointed to a clump of trees. Storm caught the reflection of the sun off the windshield of a four-wheel drive Chevy. When they reached it, they shed their gear and paused to catch their breath.
Oscar disappeared into the trees to pee. Casper inspected a diagram that had been left inside the SUV along with a handheld satellite GPS. This left Storm and Dilya together. They walked to a large rock jutting from the terrain, and Dilya took a drink of water then handed her canteen to Storm.
“It’s beautiful,” Dilya said, scanning the picturesque plains that spread for miles before them from their mountain perch.
He knew better than to ask, but couldn’t help himself. “Why did you get involved with Jones?”
“When the Soviet Union collapsed, more than two million Russians ran back to Russia because they knew what would happen if they stayed here. But we had grown dependent on their handouts and there was chaos. People were starving. My country is mostly Sunni Muslim, and the Jihad Group, which is linked to Al Qaeda, soon began launching terrorist attacks because our government became friendly with Americans. My parents, husband, and daughter were murdered in a bomb blast in a cafe. I wanted to die, but first I wanted to kill as many terrorists as possible. Jones’ people found me. They helped me infiltrate the Jihad Group.”
She made it sound simple-like signing up for Terrorism 101. But Storm knew better. He was familiar with the Jihad Group, and it was one of the most secretive and deadly of all the extremists. One of the group’s top commanders, a radical known simply as the Viper, was why Storm had been sent to Tangiers. Jones had needed Storm to help track down the Viper, and the CIA had learned that the terrorist was meeting in Tangiers with another Al Qaeda operative. For years, the northern Morocco city had been known as a safe haven for spies and terrorists. Jones told Storm that as soon as he was able to identify where the Viper was hiding, an agency team would be sent to capture or kill him. Casper had been part of that “kill team.” It had been housed separately from Storm’s group in Tangiers, waiting for a greenlight. But a day after Storm landed in Morocco, he and the others with him had been ambushed. Everyone but him was killed. It had been a trap and the Viper escaped.
“Do you know the Jihad Group?” she asked him.
“Yes, the Viper is a truly evil man.”
“They all are.”
Oscar emerged from the bushes and Casper finished with his map. “You girls going to chat all afternoon or
