CHAPTER 56
The room was tiny. So tiny, in fact, that Julia Gallo could not even stretch all the way out. Instead, she sat on the dirt floor with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them while she balanced her head upon her knees.
Other than the two wool blankets Zwak had brought her, the only other item in the room was a plastic bucket she was expected to use for her bodily functions. Upon hearing the door slide open, only her heart twitched, the rest of her body was too sore to move.
“Julia,” said a voice in the darkness. “Julia Gallo.”
Julia was certain that she was dreaming. Either that or she was finally losing her mind. Besides Zwak, only one other person had been to see her, and he had spoken English with a thick, almost Eastern European accent to ask her four very strange questions about her past. The man had then asked her other questions about Zwak and the boys who had accosted her, but this was definitely not his voice. This voice sounded American. It sounded like home.
Bending down, Harvath lifted the woman’s head from her knees and looked at her face. Even through his goggles, with her hair wrapped in her hijab, he could tell it was her. “Julia,” he repeated. “My name is Scot. Your mother sent us to get you. We’re here to take you home.”
Home. She didn’t want to allow herself to believe it. “Home?” she said. The men’s faces were disguised by something, almost as if they were wearing masks.
“Yes,” replied Harvath as he slipped a hand underneath her arm and helped her to stand. “Are you okay? Can you walk?”
Gallo quickly realized that she wasn’t dreaming; this was in fact real. “Yes,” she stammered. “I think so.”
“Good. You must remain absolutely quiet and do everything I tell you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said Julia.
Harvath looked at Fontaine, who had slipped into the room behind him and closed the door. “We’re ready to go.”
Fontaine nodded and turned around and cracked the door. Glancing outside, he quickly popped his head back in and said, “We’ve got a problem.”
“What is it?” asked Harvath.
“We’ve got one of Massoud’s guys making a beeline straight for us. What do you want to do?”
“Maybe he’s going to one of the other structures.”
“Negative,” said Fontaine. “He’s on his way here and he’s going to see that bolt is missing.”
Harvath unslung his MP5, handed it to Fontaine, and pulled out his knife. “I’ll take him when he comes in. You protect Dr. Gallo.”
“Roger that,” replied Fontaine, as he gently maneuvered Julia into the corner and then stood between her and the door.
No sooner had they done that than Harvath heard footsteps outside. There was the sound of a hand on the outside of the door and then silence. Whoever was out there had discovered that the peg that held the door closed was missing.
Whether the person was hesitant or confused, seconds passed and nothing happened. Finally, the door began to creak open.
Harvath tightened his grip on the knife and prepared to strike.
The door opened farther and as it did, fading starlight and the dying rays of the moon spilled in. As it opened more, the figure of a man holding a rifle was cast in silhouette.
Just a foot more, thought Harvath as he angled the blade of his knife.
The man moved cautiously and continued forward. When the barrel of his rifle was within striking distance, Harvath lunged.
He grabbed the weapon and pulled the man off balance and into the tiny room. Wrenching the rifle from the man’s hands, he let it drop to the ground and slammed him up against wall. With his hand covering the man’s mouth Harvath pulled the blade back and prepared to strike, but then stopped.
He had felt something wrapped around the barrel of the man’s weapon. It had felt like tape. Baseer had said Massoud’s brother carried an AK-47 with its barrel wrapped with blue tape to let everyone know it wasn’t a functioning firearm.
Sheathing his knife, Harvath held the man tight against the wall and whispered for Fontaine to close the door.
As the door closed, Julia said, “Please. He’s mentally challenged. Don’t hurt him. He protected me.”
Looking over his shoulder at Fontaine, he said, “Shred those blankets. We’ll tie him and gag him.”
As Fontaine used his knife to cut the blankets in strips, Harvath held Zwak against the wall and kept his mouth covered. The man’s entire body was trembling. Harvath once again thought of the SEAL team that had been discovered by the Afghan goatherds. If he knew one thing about combat it was that you could never second-guess what another man had done unless you’d been there with him. He was thankful that he wasn’t faced with the same predicament they were.
If they acted fast enough, he hoped, they could be gone before anyone noticed Zwak was missing. He had also given Baseer, the chief elder of Massoud’s village, his word that if he encountered Zwak, he would do everything he could to make sure no harm came to the man.
Once they had Zwak gagged, they tied his hands behind his back and then laid him on the floor and hogtied him.
As they did, Zwak began crying. Julia Gallo bent and stroked the side of his face. She spoke reassuringly to him with her limited Pashtu and thanked him once again.
Once she had finished, Harvath took his MP5 back from Fontaine, clicked his IR strobe onto a battery, and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”