While the nurses prepped the injured militiaman for surgery, the duty doctor came in to take a look at Mac. Mac recognised him as the Italian American who’d shown them Vinke’s body. Was that just over a week ago? It seemed like a lifetime had passed since then.
‘Dr Marchesi, good to see you again.’
‘At least you’re alive, unlike the last patient we spoke about,’ said the medic, with a wry smile.
He checked Mac over.
‘Broken collarbone – no treatment, just rest. Sprained knee – no treatment, just rest. Dysentery and dehydration – ciprofloxacin, oral rehydration, rest.’
Baz gave Mac a look, and he shrugged at her. Rest wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, especially not now that they had a lead on Bakker’s whereabouts. They’d both grabbed a couple of hours’ sleep on the drive back to Lashkar Gah, and that was going to have to suffice.
Logan was waiting for them in the hospital parking lot, catching forty winks behind the wheel of the Surf. Mac tapped on the window, and he sat bolt upright, blinking and reaching for his gun. Ginger woke up from where he’d been dozing on the back seat.
‘Just us,’ said Mac, as Logan opened the window.
‘I need coffee,’ said Logan.
But Starbucks hadn’t made it to Lash, and coffee was a luxury that westerners in Helmand could only dream of most of the time. Baz reached into her bag and pulled out a can of Zamzam cola, Afghanistan’s answer to America’s other favourite drink.
‘This do?’
Logan grinned. ‘You’re a girl after my own heart, Baz. When you get fed up with this one’ – he nodded in Mac’s direction – ‘give me a call.’ He snapped open the can and took a long drink.
‘Sod off, chum,’ said Mac. ‘She’s got better taste.’
They got into the Surf and Logan pulled out of the parking lot. Baz found another can of Zamzam for Ginger, who hoovered it down in a single gulp.
‘Plan?’ said Baz.
‘Dropping you at the office, then Mac, Ginger and I are going to pay Khaliq a visit. We need to apologise for the loss of his men and then talk about a little trip to Bahram Chah.’
‘And I’m not invited?’ said Baz.
Mac laughed at her indignant expression.
‘Boys’ talk,’ said Logan. ‘Khaliq will be more forthcoming if it’s just us three. I don’t write the rules.’
Baz sat back in her seat with an indignant sniff.
‘It’ll give you time to file some copy,’ said Mac.
‘Sure, I know. But it’s frustrating…’
They dropped her off at the HAVA building, then drove over to the Hotel Bost, where Logan had already ascertained that the governor was giving audiences. The security detail waved them straight through, and within minutes, they were shown into the hotel dining room, to find Khaliq staring wistfully out of the window at the slow-flowing river.
He turned round as they came into the room, and though his greeting was as warm as ever, it was not quite so effusive. He enquired after their families, and after Baz, and then pointed them to a seating area in one of the bow windows.
‘Mac-jan, you have been injured, I see. I must offer you my heartfelt apologies that something so terrible could happen in my province. Jamali is an evil force, and I will be commanding my men to do all they can to expel him from our lands.’
The irony of this wasn’t lost on Mac. He knew full well that Khaliq’s interest in removing Jamali would be so that he and his brother Feda could take over the Baloch chieftain’s opium empire. But he made the right noises in response.
‘Wadaan-jan, we come to offer our apologies for the loss of your men this morning. We were attacked by some of Jamali’s gangsters, and your militia were brave in protecting us, some of them even giving their lives to save ours.’ It was an embroidery of the truth. The vehicle in which the militiamen had died had been caught unawares.
‘My fighters are the lions of Helmand. There are no better men.’
Logan took a deep breath. ‘This is why we are coming to you again for your help. While we were south of Garmser, we learned that the Dutchman Tomas Bakker is being held by Jamali in Bahram Chah. We want to mount an expedition to withdraw him.’
Khaliq’s eyes sparkled and his mouth curled into a sly grin. ‘Of course, there is nothing I would like more than to snatch his prize away from under his nose. It would be suitable vengeance for the loss of my men. What do you need from me, Logan-jan?’
An hour later, Mac, Ginger and Logan left the Bost Hotel having secured the promise of ten armed infantrymen, with vehicles, plus a four-man team on a heavy technical. The governor had also undertaken to speak to a contact in Bahram Chah to see if he could get precise details of where Bakker was being held, and who would also sort out a guide for them once they arrived in the vicinity. They agreed with Khaliq to liaise with his men immediately after midday prayers at the southern edge of the town. This gave them a couple of hours to eat, rest and sort their kit. It was a tall order, but in a hostage situation, every minute counted.
Logan sped back towards the HAVA building to pick up Baz. Then they headed to the house to make their final preparations.
‘What the fuck did you do for Khaliq?’ said Mac, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. ‘It seems like he’ll move heaven and earth for you.’
Logan grinned. ‘We’re sworn brothers, dude. I’d do anything for him too.’
‘So spill – what’s the story?’
‘It was back in 2001,’ said Logan, running a hand through his unruly, unwashed hair. ‘I was down here, still a snake eater then’ – Mac knew this was how the Green Berets referred to themselves – ‘pushing back against the Taliban, chasing them out of Lash. Khaliq was moving in with his militia, looking to mop up and snatch the governorship.’
‘So you were fighting on the same side?’
‘My enemy’s enemy is my friend, sure. US forces were lending support to anyone routing the Taliban. We didn’t care about their politics or how they lined their pockets – those issues were for later. And for the politicians, not for us boots on the ground.
‘There was a lot of house-to-house fighting, all over town. Khaliq’s men were concentrating on taking the governor’s office and the Bost. High casualties on both sides. We’d skirted round to come in from the south, while they’d entered town on the main road from the north. We were mopping up fleeing Talibs – they were running off to hide in the countryside and we wanted to stop as many as we could from getting away.
‘Anyway, I don’t know if you know this, but the Helmand Central Prison lies in that part of town, just south of the main bridge over the river, on the east bank. We were going right past it, so my boss had the bright idea of dumping our Taliban prisoners in the jail. Which of course meant liberating the prisoners who were already in there. It was stuffed with guys that the Vice and Virtue Ministry had deemed evil – you know, people who cut their beards too short or didn’t go to the mosque enough, or who might once have talked to someone the Taliban didn’t care for.
‘We went in, guns blazing, shot the Taliban guards and freed the men inside, most of whom were either supporters of Khaliq or petty crims. They were in a sorry state, starved, tortured, whatever, but they scarpered pretty quick when they realised they were free. I was taking a bunch of our prisoners down to the cells when I came across this kid, still chained in shackles, barely able to walk, being dragged along by a Taliban guard who was holding a gun to his head, using him as a get-out-of-jail-free card.’
They were drawing up to the HAVA building now. Logan parked the Surf.
‘Anyway, long story short, I shot the Talib in the head without harming the kid. Then I got the chains off him and carried him out. Turns out, it was Beroj Khaliq – the Gov’s nephew and appointed successor. He told Khaliq that I had saved his life and ever since then, I’ve been an honorary member of the Khaliq family.’
‘And Beroj Khaliq?’ said Mac, as they got out of the vehicle. ‘Was he okay?’
‘Absolutely – he was fine. You’ll meet him in’ – Logan glanced at his watch – ‘just under two hours. He’s coming down to Bahram Chah with us in charge of the governor’s men.’