Part 61 (2/2)

I shoved the hot barrel of the .22 against the back of her head, bent close, and whispered in her ear, speaking in Farsi.

”There is no shame to die in the service of Allah.”

Her muscles locked into sudden rigidity. The cave was instantly still. Even the Afghani and the sergeant had stopped screaming. I held her tight against my chest and my back was to the cold stone wall. She smelled of rotting meat and death, but in her dark hair there was the faintest scent of perfume. Jasmine.

”Amirah,” I said. ”Listen to me.”

I whispered six more words.

”Your choice, Princess,” I said. ”This...or paradise?”

I leaned on the word ”this.” From the absolute stillness, I knew that she understood what I meant. The cave, these men, all this destruction. She knew. And even though she had meant to sweep the world with her pathogen, the end goal-the transformation via Generation 12 of a select portion of Islam and the total annihilation of the enemies of her people-that was impossible. All that was left to her now was to be a monster. Alone and reviled.

The moment stretched. No one moved. Then Amirah leaned her head toward me. An oddly intimate movement.

She said, ”Not...this.”

I whispered, ”Yarhamu-ka-llah.”

May G.o.d have mercy on you.

And pulled the trigger.

-4-.

Battalion Aide Station Now

I sat back and studied Harper for a long time.

He said, ”What? You going to sit there and tell me that you wouldn't have done the same thing?”

I said nothing.

”Look,” he said, ”I know that was you in the cave. What are you? Delta? SEALs?”

I said nothing.

”You know know what we're up against out there. They want us to stop the Taliban, stop the flow of opium, but our own government supports the brother of the Afghan president, and he runs half the opium in the frigging country! How the h.e.l.l are we supposed to win that kind of war? This is Vietnam all over again. We're losing a war we shouldn't be fighting.” what we're up against out there. They want us to stop the Taliban, stop the flow of opium, but our own government supports the brother of the Afghan president, and he runs half the opium in the frigging country! How the h.e.l.l are we supposed to win that kind of war? This is Vietnam all over again. We're losing a war we shouldn't be fighting.”

I said nothing.

Harper leaned forward, anger darkening his face. He pointed at me with the index finger of his uninjured hand. ”You think Abu Ghraib's the only place where we had to do whatever it took to get some answers? It goes on all over, and it's always always gone on.” gone on.”

”And look where it's gotten us,” I said.

”f.u.c.k you and f.u.c.k that zero tolerance bulls.h.i.+t. We were trying to save save lives. We would have gotten something out of that man.” lives. We would have gotten something out of that man.”

”You didn't get s.h.i.+t from the first two.”

Now it was his turn to say nothing. After a minute he narrowed his eyes. ”When you spoke to that...that...thing. That woman. At the end, you gave her a blessing. You a Muslim?” That woman. At the end, you gave her a blessing. You a Muslim?”

”No.”

”Then why?”

”Honestly, Sergeant, I don't think I could explain it to you. I mean...I could explain it, but I don't think you'd understand.”

”You think I'm a monster, don't you?”

”Are you?”

”No, man,” he said. ”I'm just trying to....” And his voice broke. At first it was just a hitch, but when he tried to catch it and hide it, his resolve broke and he put his face in his unbandaged hand and sobbed. I sat back in my chair and watched.

I looked at him. The bandages on his other hand were stained with blood that was almost black. Red lines ran in a crooked tracery from beneath the bandage and up his arms. I could see the same dark lines beginning to creep up from his collar. It was forty-eight hours since he'd been brought to the aid station. Fifty-nine since Amirah had bitten him. Strong son of a b.i.t.c.h. Most people would have turned by now.

”What's going to happen to me?” he asked, raising a tear-streaked face.

”Nothing. It's already happened.”

He licked his dry lips. ”We...we didn't know.”

”Yes you did. Your squad was briefed. Maybe it was all a little unreal to you, Sergeant. Horror movie stuff. But you knew knew. Just as you know how this ends.”

I stood and drew my sidearm, and racked the slide. The sound was enormous in that little room.

”They're going to want to study you,” I said. ”They can do that with you on a slab, or in a cage.”

”They can't!” he said, anger flaring inside his pain. ”I'm an American G.o.d d.a.m.n it!”

”No,” I said. ”Sergeant Andy Harper died while on a mission in Afghanistan. The report will reflect that he died while serving his country and maintaining the best traditions of the U.S. Marine Corps.”

Harper looked at me, the truth registering in his eyes.

”So I ask you,” I said, raising the pistol. ”This...or paradise?”

”I...I'm sorry,” he said. Maybe at that moment he really was. Deathbed epiphanies aren't worth the breath that carries them. Not to me. Not anymore.

”I know,” I lied.

”I did it for us us, man. I did it to help!”

”Yeah,” I said. ”Me too.”

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