As he crawled through the hole, two men on either side roughly grabbed him and yanked him through. The sharp rock scraped at his bullet wounds, causing him to grimace. One of the guards immediately pushed him against the wall and snapped plastic flex cuffs around his wrists.
Once he was standing, another man came into the cave. He could see about fifty feet of large cavern to his front, then the tunnel took a turn to his right. He saw ammunition boxes stacked high along the walls. Every man he could see had at least one weapon. Light was minimal but passable. Everyone stared at him for a moment and then turned toward the new figure in the cave.
“Colonel Garrett, I am the Scientist. Our leader has instructed me to talk to you. Won’t you follow me, please?”
Garrett paused. The Scientist? They had a complete dossier on this man, Mullah Rahman.
“Rahman?” Garrett’s voice echoed in the cave.
Rahman, who had moved to within ten feet of him, smiled a yellow-toothed grin. “I see you have studied hard, Colonel. Knowing my name should only make you more fearful.”
Zach was impressed with the man’s English. It was practiced and smooth. He knew Rahman had studied in Great Britain. He knew that Rahman was revered by the jihadists as one of their most brutal leaders.
“Then I think I’ll join you,” he growled.
As he began to walk, the six guards fell in behind him. Rahman was to his immediate front, preceded by two more guards.
They stopped while the lead guard moved a large curtain out of the way and the other stood to the opposite side. Someone checked his flex cuff. It was secure.
Rahman led him past the drapes and into a brightly lit bowl of rock. They had exited the cave, for the most part, but were still surrounded on all four sides by solid granite.
There was an AK-47 leaning against the rocks next to a man sitting on a prayer mat. Zach could not determine how tall he was, but he seemed lanky. The man’s face was covered so that only his eyes were visible. They were black holes against the dirty white sheet wrapped across his face.
This can’t be happening. Is this bin Laden? Zach’s mind reeled. He looked at Rahman and back at the man seated on the prayer mat. He knew that Rahman was just behind Zawahiri on the Al Qaeda organization chart and it was Rahman who was escorting him. This is crazy! Then he looked to his right and saw a man holding a small digital video camera. Again, looking down at the mat, he saw a newspaper with Arabic writing, and he quickly began to understand.
“Are you done taking in your surroundings?”
“Just wishing I had a GPS device on me right now,” Garrett quipped.
“I want to introduce you to a man you have been seeking but are unable to find. You are in the presence of the great one, so pay proper respect. Please bow.”
Zach looked at the Scientist and scoffed. “Kiss my ass.”
He felt a swift blow to his rib cage. He gasped for air as he doubled over, hugging his stomach. He hadn’t been hit like that since Billy Johnson took a cheap shot at him in high school football.
“Now, please bow,” the Scientist said calmly, “or we will make you bow.”
Zach stood erect again and remained motionless, spitting up small amounts of blood. Two men fell upon him in a torrent of boots and rifle butts, pushing him back down to the ground. He thought he saw the digital camera guy filming the entire scene.
Please don’t let Amanda see this, was his first and only thought before a foot into his sternum forced the wind from his lungs. He buckled to his knees.
“Ah, I see you are a wise man, Colonel.”
“Go to hell,” he spat, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth.
“We are already there, my friend, trust me.” The Scientist lowered his face to within an inch of Zach’s.
The seated man on the mat waved his hand and said something that Zach did not understand. The guards moved forward and dragged Zach on his knees to within a few feet of the man on the mat.
They want to film me on my knees in front of bin Laden, Zach thought to himself. No way in hell. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he struggled to regain his footing, leaning forward and then lifting his right knee. The two men tackled him, beating him again, then lifting him to his knees again.
“I’m not kneeling, so you’ll just have to keep beating the shit out of me,” Zach groaned.
There were ten guards in the open area, all prepared to kill Colonel Garrett if he made a single move against the man on the mat.
A knife came from out of nowhere and pressed into his neck, drawing blood. He felt the warmth sliding down his chest.
“You will kneel before the master. America will kneel before the master.”
And the camera rolled.
CHAPTER 14
Amanda had endured another drama filled day at school, returned home quickly and now bounced down the steps from her bedroom, cinching her backpack over her shoulder. As she stepped into the foyer, her mother stood in front of the door, blocking her exit.
“I don’t want you to go back to see this woman, Amanda.”
Amanda stopped, looked at her mother, and then found it hard to hold her stare. Twenty-four hours had passed since Amanda’s first visit with Riley Dwyer. During her classes today the child support issue clawed at the back of her mind like a dredge. She dismissed it, though, as inconsequential. What difference did it make?
“Mom, Jake’s waiting in the driveway. I don’t want to do this either, but if we want that money, I have to.” Amanda was dressed in a long pink skirt with a tight-fitting, matching tee underneath a denim jacket. She had snapped a Tiffany bracelet on her left wrist. She looked at her mother and then at Gus Randel sitting next to her.
Gus had wavy, light-brown hair that was swept back onto his collar. He had a baby-smooth face that made Amanda wonder if he shaved. He was wearing a black polo shirt and Levis.
“What’s her name?”
“What difference does it make? Just some lady in Charlotte. Gus, help me out here.”
Gus held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m staying out of this one.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Hey, I got you the keg,” he said with a smile.
“What have you done for me lately?” Amanda countered.
“Well, now that you mention it. Melanie, I do think you should let Amanda just deal with this on her own schedule, you know?”
“Stay out of this, Gus. It doesn’t concern you.”
Gus raised his eyebrows. “Think I’m getting another beer.” He stood from the table and walked into the kitchen.
“You’re not leaving until you tell me her name. I need to know, just to make sure you’re safe.”
Amanda fidgeted. Maybe it wasn’t so inconsequential. She chewed on a nail and then looked up.
“Okay, but first, answer me this. Remember when you told me dad was always missing child support? Why did you say that?” She shifted her weight and looked at her nails.
After an uncomfortable pause, her mother replied, “Because he did.”
“No, mom, he didn’t. I saw the records yesterday. He never missed a single payment.”
Amanda brushed past her mother, opened the door, and leapt into the truck.
“Everything okay?” Jake asked.
“Just go,” she muttered. Amanda stared straight ahead during most of the drive, numbly watching the familiar landmarks tick past.
Gus Randel gazed at them through the bay window on the second-floor landing. He stood there in full view, perfectly framed by the transom as if he were hovering.
He lightly stroked his jaw, deep in thought, wondering about this situation and what opportunities it might present. He decided he would drive to his upcoming meeting in Charlotte, NC. That would give him time to think and outline some writing. He was working on several articles for Charlotte Magazine, but a new idea had just come to him.