CHAPTER 33
SPINGHAR MOUNTAINS, AFGHANISTAN
SUNDAY
The cluster of mud brick buildings abutted a summer grazing pasture not far from the Tora Bora cave complex. Even when the roads were clear it was an extremely rough ride. Now, with snow and ice still on the ground at this altitude, it took Mullah Massoud an extra hour to get there, which didn’t do much to improve his mood.
Yelling for his men to get out of the room, he slammed his AK-47 down on the table and let loose on his Russian counterpart, who was sitting on the floor having tea. “I told you to make it look like an accident, you idiot!”
“Calm down,” said Simonov.
“How dare you tell me to calm down!” roared the Taliban commander.
The Russian lifted the kettle and poured another cup. “We’ll have tea and we will talk.”
Massoud took two steps onto the rug and kicked the teacups across the floor. His face was flushed and his eyes were bulging. Simonov had never seen him like this before.
“My village will have to go to war now because of you!”
Quietly, Simonov stood, retrieved the cups, and brought them back to the rug.
The Taliban commander was furious.
“You and I have seen too many battles together to have our friendship end this way, Massoud,” said the Russian. “I am inviting you one more time to sit and have tea with me.”
Removing his boots, Massoud sat down on the rug. As the Russian refilled the cups, he spoke. “Your brother is not wearing the shoes I gave him. Why not?”
“Because I took them from him,” snapped the Taliban commander. “It was to be his contribution to the debt paid for breaking Asadoulah Badar’s jaw.”
“Well, you can give them back to him.”
Massoud snorted. “I might as well. Shoes will no longer cover the debt.”
“No. That’s not the reason,” said Simonov. “Your brother caught Asadoulah fondling the American woman. Zwak warned him repeatedly but he wouldn’t stop. He was protecting her.”
“How do you know this?” demanded Massoud.
“The woman told me herself.”
“Why? What were you doing even speaking to her?”
“I received an email from the mother. Four questions asking for proof of life. I needed the answers to prove that we still had her alive.”
“Elam Badar’s son lied,” said the Taliban commander as it all sank in.
“It would appear so.”
“And we killed him.”
“Correction,” said the Russian. “I killed him, but as far as his village is concerned it is the same thing.”
“You also killed two other men. Tell me what happened.”
Simonov explained how he had carried out Elam Badar’s killing exactly as they had planned, but that he had been seen by two other men from his village and had been forced to kill them as well.
“How did you kill them?” asked Massoud.
“One round each to the head.”
“That was very rash.”
“I had no choice,” said the Russian. “I had to act quickly.”
The Taliban commander shook his head. “And the bodies?” he asked.
“They won’t stay hidden forever.”
Massoud signaled for Simonov to continue. The Russian explained how he had returned to Massoud’s village as quickly as possible, but when he discovered that the Taliban commander was not there, he decided to act.
Gathering several of Massoud’s best men, he loaded gear and equipment into three trucks, collected Zwak and the American woman, whom he disguised in burkas to make it look as if they were traveling with two women instead of just one, and then headed for their fallback location. If Elam Badar’s family or anyone in his village tried to retaliate by alerting the American military or Afghan forces, it would do little good at this point.
It was a small consolation, and the Taliban commander massaged his temples with the heels of his hands. “Now that two other men from his village have been killed, Elam Badar’s death will no longer be viewed as an accident.”
“I agree.”
“And all you want to do is to sit here and have tea?” demanded Massoud, his anger rising again.
“Have tea and discuss my plan,” said Simonov.
“Will your plan prevent my village from going to war?”
The Russian smiled. “No. But it will prevent Elam Badar’s.”