Desperate Situations Page 6

"Yeah, but who knows when it'll get here. Even the pony express went faster." He tapped the table in front of his fellow pilot. "If you wanna talk…"

  Megan looked up. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

  "Sure thing, Meg," Cowboy said grabbing a form. He started to work on his report, but kept glancing at Megan.

  Slowly, the crew drifted in, and within five minutes all were quietly doing paperwork. Megan finished and looked around the table.

  "Let me interrupt for a minute guys, before you get out of here. All of you attended the cultural lecture two days ago. Please don't forget what was said. These people are friendly, but their customs are different than ours. We must respect their ways. For the next several days, do not flaunt your nationalism, this is their time. If you go into town tonight, don't cause problems. Alcohol is against their religion and laws. Under no circumstances does it leave the base. Don't whore around. Don't even look at their women. Don't start any fights." She looked pointedly at Tiny. "It won't be tolerated under any instances. You mess up, you're gone. Got it?"

  "Yes'em," Tiny replied.

  "Try to stay together in at least twos and stay in the city, the nearer the base the better. The people here are more suspicious than in Iraq. The Iraqis were more used to Western thinking and attitudes. Remember, they were fighting the Taliban and then the Russians before, and many still think that they're being occupied by us. Next month, there are several planned trips as a group to different cultural places other than Kabul. Wait until then to go sight seeing. Don't damage the company's reputation with the locals. We have it good. Be back before curfew."

  Three of the men were smiling, and it was obvious that they couldn't wait to get going. Megan went back to work.

  Tiny turned to Fisher. "Hey, are you coming with us? Bosser, Gunner, and Chips are heading into town with me. And what about you, Jake?"

  Fisher nodded yes as he wrote. "I'll go. I want to see the, uh, local customs here. Taste new food."

  Tiny smiled. "Jake?"

  Jake glanced up from his work. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Thanks anyway."

  Tiny handed his paperwork to Megan, as did the other three. "Meet us at the front gate, Fisher."

  "I'll be there in many minutes," Fisher replied.

  Jake smiled at the guys and with a glance noticed that Cowboy was taking extra time with his paperwork. Usually he was the first one out of the room. His eyes swung to Megan. It was obvious she wasn't concentrating. He frowned.

  Soon there was no one in the room but the three of them. He laid down his pen and glanced at the others. Suddenly he wondered if there might not be more going on. He narrowed his eyes as he watched Cowboy reach out and gently pat her arm.

  Jake cleared his throat. "I got a bottle of whiskey in the mail today from an old army buddy. Care to join me in a drink? Or were the two of you heading into town together?"

  Cowboy smiled. "Tonight, I got a hot date."

  Megan snorted. "With what, your hand?"

  "No. Do ya'll remember that restaurant we ate at the last night here 'fore we got shipped to Iraq?"

  Megan nodded as she gathered the papers.

  "The owner invited me back tonight for a special meal. I'm thinkin' it's part of the Independence thing. Babrack said that there'd be lots of food." He licked his lips.

  "Ah, a date with food," Megan said jokingly. "Don't forget to take a gift with you, Cowboy. And watch your mouth, I'd hate to have to break you out of the pokey."

  "Be a good side kick and keep an eye out for your pardner," Cowboy said as he stood.

  "I'm not the cavalry."

  "Not true, Darling." He winked at her. "You wanna jaw anytime, ya'll find me."

  Megan looked him in the eye with a slight smile. "Don't worry, ya mother hen. Get out of here."

  As Cowboy left the room, he began whistling.

  "And Kelly, I don't want to have to nurse maid you through a stomachache tomorrow, don't 'date' too much." Megan raised her voice to reach him as he walked away.

  Cowboy's laugh could be heard from the hallway.

  Jake smiled. "So, what does our fearless leader do with her time off?"

  "Relax."

  "In town?"

  Megan shook her head. "This isn't exactly Europe or the United States. No, I stay on base."

  "Any good sights to see in town?"

  "I don't know. Ask Kelly. He'll point you in the right direction, but unless you're adventuresome and have a cast iron stomach, don't listen to his advice about food." She shook her head. "That man could eat a cactus and claim it tasted like chicken."

  Jake chuckled.

  Megan smiled then it faded as she picked up the paperwork, her eyes falling on the letters under it. Quickly, she picked them up and shoved them under a crew report.

  "Well, in that case, since you aren't headed into town, care to join me in a drink?"

  "Thanks but no," Megan said and stood up after taking Jake's report. "Have a good evening, Cupcake."

  Jake smiled. "You too, Chief."

  But the smile faded as she left the room. Megan was in a strange mood. One he had never seen before with her. She almost seemed distraught. He shook his head. He would never understand women.

  ***

  Jake stepped out onto the rooftop as the waning sunshine poked out from behind the mountains that surrounded the city. The colors of the sunset blended in harmony as the air cooled. There was little humidity, so once the temperature dropped, it cooled off quickly.

  The foothills that faced the city were green but not from trees. Years of occupation by Russian forces had caused the timber to be harvested for various things, not the least of which was for heat and cooking. Small groves of trees were being nursed back since the Russians left, but these were still immature trees. Bushes were the tallest things on the hillsides.

  The air was crisp and clean. There was no smog here even though Kabul, which the White Pine base sat on the edge of, was the biggest metropolitan city in the country. He could hear city sounds off in the distance with an occasional military helicopter or plane passing overhead.

  Unlike other countries Independence Day celebrations, this one would have no dancing and music. There were no parades or large gatherings. This was a quieter affair but no less celebrated. People invited others to their homes, and food was lavished on each other as much as people could afford.

  Afghanistan was below poverty level, most people barely surviving. Still, when they invited visitors in for a meal, they provided well, even if it did impoverish the family. That's why, as Westerners and rich in comparison, it was considered polite to take a gift to the family.

  Here on White Pine base, meals weren't huge, but they didn't starve either. There was always enough to go around.

  The rooftop was located on the main barracks building. The base was an enclosed, almost fortified city, surrounded by thick walls. The barracks the crews lived in were near the northern wall. There were three employee living barracks, each two stories high, and they were closest to the foothills. The main base building was next to the hanger, which was closest to the front gate. The other buildings on base were used for storage.

  There was no air conditioning. So on hot summer nights, like tonight, the crews either hung out near the patio or on the rooftops. The patio area had a barbeque, tables, chairs, and was one of the few places that had a sheltered cover to protect from the beating sun.

  Several guys had told him that rooftops were the best place to catch the slight breezes that only occasionally relieved the heat. On this particular building there was a very small retaining wall about four inches tall. Most of the older buildings had no ledge, including those lived in by the native Afghan people, especially those that lived in the mountains.

  Movement onto the roof caught his attention. Meg turned to look at him. She sat near the edge, staring into the distance. Her slightly reddened eyes quickly turned away.

  "They said downstairs that this was the coolest place." He wiped his brow. "They were r
ight." He hesitated; her look indicated that he might have interrupted something. "Do you mind?"

  Megan shrugged, but her expression seemed to say that she'd rather be left alone. "Chairs are over there." She pointed to a small recess by the door. Her attention returned to the mountains.

  Jake hesitated then decided to follow his gut. He put his chair next to Megan's and sat down. He poured himself a drink, then sat silent. It was a long time before either spoke. The sunset was entering its last stages of brilliance.

  "Pretty sunset," Jake said softly in the quiet of the rooftop.

  Megan nodded.

  Jake now studied her. "Sure you don't want a drink. I brought an extra glass."

  Megan shook her head but continued to stare out into the distance. She sighed softly with a soft sniff.

  "Is everything okay?"

  Megan didn't answer.

  Jake shrugged and got comfortable. Now the silence stretched out. Noises from the base and nearby town became louder. A military helicopter flew by. He watched it and as it passed, his gaze lingered on Megan.

  She seemed sad. He couldn't figure her out. She seemed tougher than nails, yet the brown eyes revealed the fact that she cared deeply about things―first and foremost, the welfare of her crew.

  He had been walking down the hall before the meeting when he heard her arguing with Masood about days off. Masood wanted them to work, but she stood her ground. They would do her no good if they were tired and on edge, she reasoned. If they needed to work on a mission, she knew she could rely on them for weeks, but this was a stupid reason to stretch her crew. She won in the end. Jake had been impressed. He wanted to tell her, but every time he tried to approach on a personal level, she responded with anger.

  He grabbed the bottle off the roof and poured her a shot. Without asking, he handed it to her. "To living another day."

  Megan glanced at him. She raised the glass and with a motion that demonstrated practice, tossed it back.

  Jake hesitated, then with a smile, tossed his back.

  "Good stuff," Megan whispered as the effect of the strong alcohol took her breath away.

  "Yeah. My friend doesn't buy cheap." Jake poured himself another one. "Another?"

  Megan hesitated. "Sure."

  Once more they tossed the shots back. Jake smiled. "You're not inexperienced in drinking."

  "Poker nights with military guys. I learned from the best."

  Jake laughed. "We do know how to drink."

  "And lose money." Megan turned her attention back to the mountains.

  Without asking, he poured her another.

  "Are you trying to get me drunk, McGrew?"

  "Jake."

  "Let's stick with Cupcake."

  "Fine, Chief," Jake said, pointing with his glass toward the mountains. "A sad memory?"

  "They kinda look like home." She sighed again.

  "And that would be where?"

  Megan glanced at him. "The United States."

  "Well, that does narrow it down," Jake said with a smile.

  "Idaho."

  "Ah!"

  "The Sawtooth Mountains. Similar in nature." She also pointed with the glass to the now darkening mountains. She tossed this drink back then handed the glass back to him. "Thanks."

  "You can have more if you want. I'm not saving it for any special occasion."

  "Nope. Too many drinks and I loose my inhibitions."

  "Sounds like fun."

  Megan snorted. Her eyes drifted once more to the mountains. A shooting star caught her eye and she glanced up.

  Jake followed her glance to see the stars starting to twinkle. When he glanced back she began tearing up.

  She cleared her throat quickly and stood up. "Enjoy the view, Cupcake."

  Jake stood with her. "Chief―Megan, you seem sad. Want to talk about it?"

  "Nope." Megan started to move away, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

  "Look, I know what it's like to be alone. Being the only woman on base and in charge, well, it's got to be tough. I've been told I'm a good listener."

  Megan raised her eyes to meet his. "Thanks but no."

  Jake stared into her eyes. He could tell she was torn up about something. Every now and then his sisters would get the same attitude. Maybe he should try a tactic that worked with them. "Then, would a hug help?" He lifted his arms.

  Her eyes softened, and tears formed in them again. "Sure." She leaned into him, putting her arms around him.

  Jake encircled her with his arms and gave a slight squeeze. His eyebrows arched. She had body armor on underneath her large shirt. He could also feel her shaking as she laid her head on his chest. He held on to her, waiting until she was ready to break contact.

  Megan patted his back and let go. She wiped her tears. Taking a step back, she studied the rooftop. Finally she looked up. "Thanks."

  "Anytime."

  With a soft smile, she headed away.

  "Hey, Megan."

  "Yeah?" She turned.

  "Out of curiosity." He sat down, reaching for his glass. "Why do you have on body armor, off duty and on base?"

  She stepped back. "Three reasons. One, it's habit. I almost feel naked without it. Two, for protection. Believe it or not, I have a lot of enemies. And three, it hides the fact that I'm a woman. I can, if I dress the right way, blend in as a man. About the only time I don't wear it is in my room."

  Jake nodded in thanks.

  "Have a good evening, Cupcake."

  Jake winked. "You too, Chief."

  After she left, his eyes turned to the darkening mountains. There was one last stray ray of sunlight peaking out from behind the foothills giving just a touch of pink to the surrounding area. He poured another glass and toasted silently the last visual scene, a smile playing on his lips. The hug had worked. This was the first time they had been on a first name basis.

  ***

  The next afternoon Jake was walking down Chicken Street with Gunner shopping for gifts for their families. Chicken Street was the main market street near the base. They stopped twice to sample local food: very spicy, yet good. Gunner enjoyed it immensely. Jake was polite, but it just wasn't his thing.

  The market was similar to those in Iraq, only the streets were more littered with trash and some of the buildings were bombed out, many having never been rebuilt after the fighting.

  Traffic was mostly bicycles and foot traffic, although the occasional Toyota rambled by. Jake made a comment to Cowboy as the group left the front gate about the weird fact that there were a lot of white Toyotas in Kabul. Cowboy merely laughed in answer.

  Now they were in a rug shop. Gunner was negotiating with the shop owner on a particularly stunning rug. Jake looked at a few, considering buying one for his mom but decided to wait. He might find something better later on.

  He stepped out of the shop and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking around the street. Two young street urchins, boys age seven or eight, immediately accosted him wanting a handout of money. Neither looked like they had eaten in weeks, but he knew once he started handing out money, he'd be swamped.

  Jake held out his hands and shook his head no, then he held up one finger in the universal sign for 'wait.' Being in Iraq prepared him for this. He pulled out two Dumdum suckers and handed each kid one. Their eyes lit up and smiles adorned their faces. Although not better than money, it was a unique gift from a foreigner.

  They thanked him heartily in their language. Even though Jake couldn't understand them, it was obvious that's what they were saying. Then they hurried off, their prizes stuck firmly in their pockets.

  Jake smiled, watching them run off. He liked making kids happy, not to mention that kids in Afghanistan had witnessed many atrocities and anytime someone could provide them with a little pleasure it was always appreciated. He went back to watching people in the area with his hands in his pockets.

  A white Toyota pulled up down the street that caught his attention. He nonchalantly watched it. Two men stepped out
. One was dressed in traditional pants with a long vest garment. His hat was the round, flat type worn by most Afghans in Kabul. The other was dressed in a more traditional Muslim way. He had a full beard and turban.

  Jake was puzzled. Something isn't right. The fully dressed man was very short and his walk familiar. Both men looked to be nervous and entered a jeweler's shop.

  Jake turned to see Gunner walking out with a medium sized, rolled up rug draped over his shoulder. He smiled at the Chilean. "Haggled him down, huh?"

  Gunner smiled. "I learn from bestest in Iraq."

  "The Iraqis are shrewd negotiators."

  Gunner nodded then hefted the rug to a more comfortable position. "However, I miscounted."

  "Miscounted?" Jake asked.

  "Very heavy. Cannot walk all day with rug. Must take back to base."

  Jake did a silent 'Ah hah.' "You meant miscalculated."

  "That too." Gunner smiled thanks to the American. He told Jake to correct his English. He wanted to be able to speak flawless English by the time his contract was up. "We go?" He thumbed back toward the White Pine compound. "We come back then."

  Jake stopped Gunner with his hand. "Let's check out one more shop, then we'll head back. Okay?"

  "Yes. That is okay."

  Jake led the way down the street toward the jeweler's shop. After crossing the street and dodging bicycles, they came to the run down shop. Grimy, dust covered windows obscured some of the merchandise, but several beautiful pieces of jewelry could be seen. Jake was amazed at the artistry. He pointed at one and looked at Gunner.

  "Most beautifly."

  "Beautiful," Jake corrected. "Yes, it is. I think my oldest sister would love this piece or something like it."

  "How many sisters do you have?" Gunner asked leaning closer to the glass.

  "Five."

  Gunner chuckled. "And other, uh, brothers?"

  "None. I was the only boy. Four older sisters, one younger sister."

  "I am sorry."

  Jake laughed. "Yeah. Tell me about it. You? Siblings?"

  "Two brothers survived. One sister. She is married and has three children. Her husband dead and she now lives with my parents. I am baby," Gunner said. "I send her rug to put on floor of her room. I wait here. Rug big for store."