When the helicopter appeared, Amir said, “My family and I will be very sad to see all of you go.”
Hawkins conferred with Calvin in a low whisper and said to Amir, “We have an idea that may soften the blow.”
Hawkins handed the keys to Calvin’s desert vehicle to Amir, who said, “I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“How about letting me borrow your satphone again and we’ll call it even.”
Amir handed him the phone and told him to keep it. There were tearful good-byes, then everyone climbed aboard the helicopter. As the chopper lifted off and gained altitude, Hawkins saw the desert vehicle making tight figure eights and wondered it had been a mistake to give the fast little buggy to a lead foot like Amir.
There was little conversation on the flight to Kabul. The passengers were weary from their ordeal and the engine noise made conversation difficult even using headsets. Hawkins clicked on the satellite phone and tried to reach Sutherland so he could tell her everyone was in good shape. There was no answer. He connected to his own phone number, and retrieved a texted message she had sent the day the expedition left Kabul.
MURPHY IS A SNAKE. CHECK ATTACHED REPORT
Hawkins clenched his jaw as he read on the small screen Sutherland’s description of the intricate web connecting Murphy to the ambush five years ago and the attempts on her life. He cursed himself for dragging the young woman into this mess, then leaving her to fend for herself. The helicopter landed in Kabul early in the evening. Abby said she planned to go to the Global Logistics Kabul office to line up a flight home and invited Cait to go along.
“We’ve got a few things to take care of. We’ll stay here,” Hawkins said.
As soon as the two women were out of earshot, Hawkins said, “Got a big favor to ask you, Cal.”
Calvin nodded as he listened to Hawkins’ request, then rummaged in his luggage and handed over a thin tube-shaped object.
“Pretty serious stuff,” Calvin said. “You going to need help?”
Hawkins slid the shiny cylinder into his pocket.
“Going solo on this one, Cal. Tell Abby I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“What if Abby asks where you went?”
“Tell her I’m taking care of unfinished business.”
He bumped fists with Calvin, then strode off to find a taxi that would take him into the city.
Murphy was at the Serena Hotel bar. He had just emptied the contents of his hip flask into his third fruit juice and was enjoying the fiery-sweet flow of liquid down his throat, when a bellhop tapped his shoulder and handed him an envelope. Folded inside was a sheet of hotel letterhead and a printed message.
“Mission accomplished. Need to see you. No phone. Your place. Rashid.”
“Who gave you this?” Murphy said.
The bellhop touched the top of his head. “Bald man?”
Murphy tucked the note in his pocket, tipped the bell hop and slid off his stool. He made his way erratically through the lobby and out the door to the parking lot. He fumbled with the keys to his armored Chevy Tahoe SUV. As he heaved his bulky body behind the wheel, he heard the back door open and shut. A voice spoke in his ear:
“Hi, Southie. Remember me?”
Murphy glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw Hawkins’ manic grin. Struggling to keep the surprise out of his voice, the DEA agent said: “Hell, Hawk, scared the crap out of me. Didn’t know you were back in town. I guess the mission went okay.”
“The mission was fine.”
“That’s good, man. So what’re you doing here? I got a note to meet Rashid.”
“The note was from me. I told the bellhop to say it was from a bald man.”
“Uh, what happened to Rashid?”
“Why do you think anything happened to him?”
“Figure of speech. I got him the guide gig. Thought the ungrateful bastard wanted to thank me.”
“He can’t do that because he’s vulture bait.”
“Dead?”
“Very.”
“Jeez, what happened?”
“He got frisky with a lady friend of mine.”
“Oh hell. I should have warned you that he had a problem with women.”
“He had a problem with men, too. He tried to kill me and ran off with our dune buggy. I caught up with him.”
Murphy dropped his hands onto his knees. “Can’t say I really liked the guy.”
“Too bad, because you’re going to join him if you go for that gun between the seats. Pick it up by the butt with your thumb and forefinger and hold it over your shoulder. Please don’t make me shoot you.”
Murphy hesitated. “You’re bluffing. Security guys would never let you onto the hotel grounds with a firearm.”
“They’d let me get in with a special ops ball-point fitted out with a .22 caliber blank that will drive a dart into your brain. Real James Bond stuff, Murph.”
Murphy winced as a sharp object dug into the base of his skull. He followed Hawkins’ instructions, slowly handed the gun over his shoulder and put his hands back on the wheel.
“Glad you got the point. Now pass me the gun you carry in your belt holster.”
Murphy dug out the compact .22 backup pistol and handed it to Hawkins.
“Good memory. You don’t trust anyone, do you?”
Hawkins removed the magazines and emptied the rounds from each gun. “I don’t want any distractions. Tell me why you sicced Rashid on us.”
“Rashid was a last-minute desperation choice. I had to use the little pervert because I didn’t have time to put a better plan into place.”
“A plan for what?”
“To sabotage your mission.”
“Who gave you the orders?”
“Dunno. I get my assignments on the phone. Someone calls. A voice gives me an ID code so I’ll know it’s legit, and tells me what to do. I didn’t know what your mission was. Still don’t.”
“Did the voice tell you to kill me?”
“They used the word neutralize. Nothing personal.”
“That makes me feel better, Murph. Someone tried to neutralize me back in the States, even before the mission got underway. You know anything about that?”
“Whaddya know, something I didn’t do! I’m clueless on that score, Hawk. Maybe someone was afraid you’d dig into the past and stir things up. From what little I know, the guys I work for don’t like loose ends.”
“Were Abby and Cal considered loose ends, too?”
“Aw crap. Yeah,” he said.
“Were you working for the same voice when we met five years ago?”
“Hard to tell. Voice is computer-altered. Could have been anyone. I was a private contractor with the Company. You know that.”
“You were moonlighting for Arrowhead.”
The answer caught Murphy by surprise. “How did you know that?”
“Never mind.”
“Yeah, what’s the big deal? Arrowhead had contracts with the CIA.”
“What was your main job?”
“I was to develop local intelligence assets.” He chuckled. “Basically I got paid for hanging around the hotel lounge.”
“You did more than warm a bar stool. You cultivated Honest Abe as an informant. He was so important that he got wined and dined in New York. You were on his shopping trip to the Big Apple.”
“You do what you have to do in this business. You know that, Hawk.”
“All too well. Problem was, Honest Abe wasn’t so honest. While you were showing him the bright lights of Broadway, he had been giving CIA money to the Taliban for protection. That should have neutralized him, but he became even more valuable after you turned him into a double agent. How am I doing so far?”
“Spot on, Hawk. Like I said, it’s a crazy business.”
“It gets even crazier when I want to bring Honest Abe in to talk about a Taliban attack on a SEAL team. My superior says, ‘talk to Murphy first; he’s The Man.’ So that’s what I did.”