“We can’t ever understand. We just tourists.”
—An anonymous merc
Elena sat in the first Black Hawk with eight of the men. They were on a Pakistani helipad outside of Peshawar.
Karim climbed into the chopper. He hadn’t been in Belfast at the bar, but he was here now. He was dressed in black fatigues like the rest of them. He wore the white cap of a man who’d done the Mecca hajj and gazed on the Kaaba, the Black Rock, the holy of holies. He took it off, stuffed it into a cargo pocket on his right leg, pulled a black watch cap out of another cargo pocket and put it on his head. He sat down on one of the jump seats. He would serve as their translator if they needed one.
His white cap bothered Elena. They did not need someone who’d just found Allah.
“Glad you could make it,” Elena said, “but you understand what we’re doing?”
“An extraction,” Karim said.
“And we may have to kill some people,” Elena said, “getting Rashid out.”
“What’s your question?” Karim asked.
“Well,” Elena said, “does Allah countenance the killing of Muslims?”
“If they’re apostate motherfuckers he sure do,” Jonesy said.
“That how you feel?” Elena asked Karim, ignoring Jonesy.
He nodded his agreement.
“So you can accept Muslim blood on your hands?” Elena said.
“Better than my blood on theirs,” Karim said.
He buckled himself into the Black Hawk.
“Everyone’s there?” Elena said into her wrist mike to Adara, who was with the men in the other Black Hawk.
“Roger that,” Adara answered in her earpiece from the other chopper.
“Then let’s rock on out of here,” Elena said.
The rotor turned, and her chopper lifted off. Despite the helicopter’s deafening roar, Elena could hear the men talking around her. Only bits and pieces of the conversation came through, but still she listened to them absently, not really thinking or paying attention, not even trying to identify the speakers.
“What a sorry bunch of assholes.”
“Sorry you signed on?”
“Sorry I ever heard about it.”
“Where’s Johnny D.?”
“Choir practice?”
“Maybe he lost his way to the can.”
“Is Leon on board?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“We could all be killed.”
“Then I’ll see your ass in hell.”
“Humdililah.” Praise be to God. Elena recognized Karim’s voice.
“What’s that?”
“A prayer for the dying,” someone said.
“Have you made your peace with darkness?”
“Made my peace with your pussy ass.” Sounded like Jonesy but she wasn’t sure with the rotor.
“I’m just twistin’ the dials on you, sucka.”
“Twist this, bitch.”
“That’s what I tell yo’ mama when she suckin’ my dick.”
“Why do they do this shit anyway?”
“You can’t explain it. You gotta live it.”
“I don’t wanna know why they did it, and I sure as shit don’t wanna live it. I only wanna know why they do it now.”
“We can’t ever understand. We just tourists.”
“You trip that shit?”
“High and hard.”
“How’s it hangin’, homes?”
“Bangin’ hard, rollin’ heavy, still beatin’ the clock.”
“Ain’t a wrong thang to put on your scorecard.”
“Just rattlin’ the bars on your baboon cage.”
“I be sincere in my disinterest.”
“I’ll be. A gen-u-wine swinging dick.”
“What did happen to Johnny D. anyway?”
“Got caught in the headlights.”
“Then there it is.”
“There it is, sports fans. There it is indeed.”
The two Black Hawks roared through the night.