Shilmani gestured that we take seats on the crimson-colored toshak.
“We’ll have some tea first,” said Burki.
“Thank you,” I said, settling down on the cushion and making sure the soles of my feet were not showing. I muttered for Treehorn to do likewise and to remove his sunglasses.
Shilmani poured us cups of tea, which we quickly accepted.
The young man stood in the corner, just watching us. His beard was short, his eyes fiery. If he had a weapon, I’d say he wanted to use it on us, but thus far he appeared unarmed.
“How is the new well coming? I haven’t had time to go out there.”
Burki’s English wasn’t very good. Shilmani translated, and Burki said, “Oh, good, good, good. A lot of water!”
“He sounds happy,” I said to Shilmani.
“He is. Even with the Taliban cutting into our profits, we’ll still have a very good year. The solar-powered pump is a brilliant idea.”
“Not mine,” I said.
“But great nonetheless.”
“How are your wife and children?” I asked.
“Very well,” he answered. “Perhaps some time you could join us again for dinner. My children have a lot of questions about America.”
“I’ll try to answer them.”
Shilmani grinned, then leered up at the young man in the corner.
“Who is he?”
“Just the bodyguard.”
“He wants to kill me,” I said.
“Me, too,” Shilmani said with a smile. “I hate him.”
Burki leaned forward and gave me a long appraising stare. “I want you to kill Zahed,” he said slowly.
I drew back my head and looked at Shilmani, who simply nodded.
“What’s going on now?” I asked.
Shilmani spoke quickly, “We had a deal with Zahed for the water coming out of the new well, but he has chosen to break that deal and increase his demands. So we have chosen to kill him — and we will hire you to do the job.”
“Okay,” I said matter-of-factly.
Treehorn looked at me: Are you nuts?
I winked at him. Then faced Burki and made the money sign. “How much will you pay me?”
He looked at Shilmani and spoke rapidly, and I could only ferret out every third word.
“He says we’ll pay you with information rather than money.”
“Tell him I said that’s very clever and I appreciate this offer. I will kill Zahed. How can he help me?”
Shilmani and Burki spoke again, then Shilmani said, “We will set up a meeting for you and Zahed. He will think you are one of the opium smugglers I told him about. You will come with us. And when the door closes, you will put a bullet in his head.”
“Okay.”
“Captain, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
I looked at Treehorn. “Thanks. No other opinions needed.” I faced Burki. “How soon can we meet with Zahed?”
“Soon.”
I turned to Shilmani. “Ask him about our captured man. Does he know where our guy is being held?”
After a moment of conversation, Shilmani turned to me and shook his head. “No idea. But Zahed would want to question him himself, so probably in Sangsar.”
“Ask him what he thinks the best-protected place is in that town.”
Shilmani did. Both men laughed. Shilmani turned to me. “He says the police station. The jail. But it is probably too obvious.”
We had dozens of maps and intelligence on Sangsar, but sometimes that intel did not indicate the function of some buildings unless streaming satellite video of the comings and goings of the inhabitants made it obvious — or if there was, of course, a sign on the building.
I drew an imaginary rectangle across the carpet and said, “Can you tell me in what part of the town we would find that building?”
Shilmani already knew. He pointed directly in the middle of the rectangle. I sighed. Of course — as deep into the town as you could get.
“So if I kill Zahed, your boss gets to keep all of the profits.”
“That’s what he thinks, but you and I know better.”
“We do?”
“There’s always another man to take over for Zahed.”
“Yes, there is. Do you know who that might be?”
“I have a cousin who works as a courier for Zahed.”
“You do? Why did you wait to tell me?”
“To protect him. And my family.”
“I see.”
“I will get more information from him.”
I finished my tea and smiled at Burki. “I really appreciate this help.”
He raised a brow. “Okay, okay.” He made a gun with his fingers. “You kill Zahed.
As we drove back through the town, we took a side street that ran parallel to the bazaar. A few kids on old bicycles were racing along the street and pointing as they passed the alleys. A huge crowd had gathered along the shops and stalls, and I could see people throwing things into the center square. Were those rocks? I couldn’t quite tell.
“What’s going on?” I asked Shilmani.
“Nothing. Never mind. We have to keep going.”
“No way,” I said. “Pull over.”
“Please, Scott. You don’t want to go there.”
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t understand.”
“You heard me. Stop this car.”
Shilmani took a deep breath. “You have to promise that if I stop, you will not interfere.”
“What are you talking about?”
He pulled over, threw the car in park. “You’ll see.”
NINETEEN
Harruck had never mentioned this issue to me, and I later found out that he’d known all along and had simply been hiding it. The news was simply another of the burdens he’d carried on his shoulders, and it made me understand — at least a bit more — why his stress level was constantly in the red zone.
I ran down the alley and reached the back of the crowd. Treehorn and Shilmani were just behind me.
There, in the middle of the road, was a brown sack, but when I got closer, I realized that a person was covered in that sack and buried up to the shoulders. The person was struggling, so I had to assume the hands were tied behind the back.
“Boss, is that what I think it is?” cried Treehorn.
“Aw, jeez.” I gasped.
A circle had been drawn in the road around the victim, and no one stepped inside that circle. From the periphery, they threw their stones, occasionally hitting the person in the head. Each time a stone made direct contact, the crowd roared.
“I did not want you to see this,” said Shilmani. “And I did not realize it would happen so soon. We would have planned the meeting another day.”
“Why is this happening?” I asked as the crowd chanted God is great and my mouth fell open.
“This is retribution for her sins.”
“Her sins? What the hell did she do to deserve this?”
Shilmani didn’t answer. A rock crashed into the woman’s head, and the sack began to stain with blood. The crowd grew even louder, and a blood frenzy now widened the eyes of those nearest the circle’s edge. The women hurtled their rocks even more fiercely than the men. I started forward, but Shilmani grabbed me — as did Treehorn.
“If you interfere, you will commit a crime,” said Shilmani.
“Okay, okay,” I said, fighting for breath and relaxing my arms so they could release me.
“Her hands are tied behind her back, but if she can escape the circle, she will be free,” Shilmani explained. “She’s only buried up to her shoulders to give her a fighting chance. Men are buried up to their heads.”
“You didn’t answer my question. What did she do?”
“She had sex outside marriage.”
“I knew it,” said Treehorn. “These women can’t do anything without getting punished for it.”