Hail Warning

Termez, Uzbekistan

The return flight to Termez had been boring and uneventful. Kara had gotten very little sleep at Diambu’s compound, but she was still unable to turn off her brain to relax. She had been wide-eyed and wired with adrenaline the entire trip aboard Kornev’s plane. Inversely, Kornev slept like a baby. He had done a faceplant into a bunk that folded out from the wall of his plane. Kara was grateful for not having to deal with him. Her relationship with Kornev, at this point, was very confusing. If she had fallen asleep, and Kornev had remained awake, would he have tried to disarm her? And if so, why? His cards had already been dealt, and he had accepted his hand. If there were any more cards to be dealt, those would be given to Kornev by either the CIA or Hail. But maybe Kornev would like to mess with her on a personal level as payback for the belittlement he was forced to endure over the last few days. And, indeed he had been humiliated.

First, Hail slapped him around in the desert, and shortly thereafter Hail pulverized the Russian with airsoft pellets. Kara, a woman, had taken him to task. Most likely his ego was bruised and feeling betrayed by Tonya. Thus, she feared he might do something tragically stupid without considering the consequences would be death by drone. The Russian was so hard to read, but it no longer mattered. He was but a means to an end — a tool which Hail and the CIA would use.

Once Kornev’s plane had touched down in Termez, Kara roused Kornev, using the tip of Baako’s pistol to poke him in the ribs to get him moving. When Kornev had gotten his act together, they collected their carry-ons and had exited the aircraft. They climbed into Kornev’s Hummer, still parked at the airport. Initially, Kornev had climbed into the driver’s seat. However, his injuries had proven to be too painful. Reluctantly, Kornev had asked Kara to drive. They exchanged places, and she had driven them to his fortress.

Kornev provided Kara directions after she turned down one confusing street after another. She finally recognized the garage they had departed a mere two days earlier — although it seemed a lifetime ago. She pressed the garage door button, and it began to climb on its track.

Easing the big machine into its designated spot, Kara shut down the engine and closed her eyes. Funny, her body was now begging she succumb to sleep. Her eyes had been so dry that she thought the sensation of being waterboarded might be a relief. She laughed to herself at the silly thought while opening her car door.

She followed Kornev down the stairs that led to the tunnels below. Kornev had decided to leave his bag in the car, figuring there was nothing he needed badly

enough to drag it through the entire tunnel. Kara left hers in the vehicle as well, but she had no intention of staying at Victor’s any longer than necessary.

Once inside the tunnel, Kara fell into step behind the battered and broken Russian. He was walking like Herman Munster from a TV show she remembered watching as a kid. Kornev was not walking. It looked more like a staggered shuffle as if his legs were set in plaster casts. That cadence changed when Kara implemented what Nolan had referred to as the rear naked choke. She jumped onto his back and threw her right forearm around the front of his neck. In a flash, she hooked both of her heels around his belly, now locked in her right arm, and she began choking Kornev using her left arm. Kara locked in the choke, awaiting the inevitable. Kornev was a big man, so it took all she had to lock the choke down.

At first, Victor was taken aback. He didn’t know what the hell had happened. He thought Kara was being inappropriately playful. But a second later, he was incapable of breathing. He tried to dislodge her arms, but they felt like two concrete pythons locked around his throat. He tried to go for her face and gouge out her eyes, but his arm wounds sent waves of pain that registered in his brain. He groped for Kara’s eyes, ears, hair — basically anything he could get his hands on. But Kara had tucked her head down low on his back. After wasting too much time trying to get his hands on the CIA operative, Kornev realized he could use the walls of the cave to dislodge her firm hold on him. He turned his back to one of the walls, attempting to determine how many steps it would take to slam Kara up against the rock when the world became fuzzy. The lack of oxygen to his brain caused his central nervous system to shut down. While Kornev began to pass out, he thought to himself, “Why didn’t she just shoot me? It would have been a helluva lot easier.” The Russian went down slow, like a stick of butter standing on its end in the middle of a hot pan. His arms went limp, and Kara stayed with him, riding him to the ground, ensuring it was truly lights out for Kornev.

Once he was safely unconscious, Kara took the bag of plastic handcuffs from her front pants pocket, and she rolled Kornev over onto his back. Kara used the largest pair to lock his thick ankles to which she secured his wrists to his ankles with the next largest pair of cuffs. With one cuff remaining, she considered using it to provide him more distance between his wrists and his ankles. She decided against it, opting to keep Kornev extremely hobbled. She didn’t want him to free himself until it was time. And, she didn’t know when that time would be.

Kara sat back against the tunnel’s stone wall, staring at the string of lights that ran down the wall. They were small, but this narrow place didn’t require much lighting. She wondered what it would be like to be down here in the dark, left here in the tunnel all alone for maybe forever. She shuddered at that thought.

Kornev began to come around. He didn’t look much different than after emerging from the backseat of the SUV after it had rolled on Snake Island except now he didn’t look like he was going to throw up. He was still having a hard time breathing, and Kara considered that she may have broken his Adam’s apple. The Russian began to mumble something as he sat up very slowly. Kornev found himself in the middle of his compound’s tunnel, chained with plastic loops joining his hands to his feet.

Like Baako, so many hours ago, Kornev tested his restraints. But Kornev was so much more messed up than Baako. His effort was nothing more than a mild tug. After verifying that he was indeed shackled, he did not exert any more effort to free himself.

“Why?” Kornev asked, looking first at his cuffs and then at Kara sitting on the ground across from him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to talk to you,” she told Kornev. “But not as your fake girlfriend, CIA agent, or as one of Hail’s crew. I wanted to talk to you as Kara Ramey, daughter of Kadence Ramey and Camden Ramey, my mother and father.”

Kornev looked away from Kara’s angry eyes. He decided that looking back down at his cuffs was easier than the fire flashing like lightning in her eyes.

Kara continued, “But now I’m not the one who’s going to be doing the talking — you are.”

Kara pressed the RECORD button on her cellphone she recovered from the plane, and said, “I want you to tell me who killed my parents.”

“I don’t know who killed your parents,” Victor said defensively, as if the mere suggestion was beneath him.

“Beeeeep, wrong answer,” Kara said, making a game show buzzer sound. “Two more wrong answers, or two more non-answers, and the game is over,” Kara told Kornev.

“What are you going to do, kill me?” Kornev asked, fear lacing his voice.

Kara thought he sounded more scared than angry.

“Wait one second,” Kara said, getting to her feet. She began walking down the tunnel. It was a long tunnel, and it took her a little time to reach the end. She followed the light cord until it terminated where it was plugged into an outlet. She pulled the plug from the wall and immediately plunged the tunnel into complete blackness.

Kornev was preparing to yell words of protest until he saw the flashlight from Kara’s cellphone snap on. She was walking back towards him. A moment later, she sat.

“You know, I really don’t believe in Heaven,” she told Kornev in a matter-of-fact tone. “But I’m good with that because I don’t really believe in Hell either. But if I did believe in Hell, I wouldn’t really buy into the fire and brimstone version we have been told exists. You know, like the center of the earth, with hot molten lava and all that crap. Hell, to me is emptiness. Hell, to me is eternal complete darkness and eternal consciousness. Hell, to me is loneliness, like not having a family — like the family you stole from me. I think Hell would be a lot like this.”

Kara turned off her cellphone’s light, and the tunnel eclipsed into total darkness…again.

Speaking in the darkness, Kara asked Kornev, “What does your Hell look like, Victor?”

Kornev said nothing.

Kara said softly, “Being down here is almost like being buried alive. Remember when you told me that you could scream and scream or even shoot a gun down here, and no one would hear you? Well, I believe you. Being down here like this is like being buried alive, and no one knows you are here.”

Kara stopped talking and just listened. Maybe she heard the faint rumble from a car passing on the street somewhere. She could feel a tiny vibration in the soil. It was almost nothing.

Kara said, “You asked me if I was going to kill you. To answer your question, the answer is no. But if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’m going to leave you down here.”

Kara snapped back on her flashlight so she could see his reaction. It wasn’t pretty. Kornev looked as though he had seen a ghost — or very soon would see one.

“You don’t like that idea, do you?” Kara smiled. “Yeah, this is your version of Hell, too. I can tell.”

Kara pressed the RECORD button on her phone and said to Kornev, “So this is what I need from you. First, I know most of the locations of many of your safe houses and gun stashes and go-bags around the world. As you may not know, ever since I met you back at the hotel in Volna, I bugged your phone. The CIA has been getting a dump of your texts, phone calls, e-mails — basically all the business you’ve conducted on it for months. But, I want you to tell me all the locations and

addresses just the same. If you miss any of the safe houses or go-bags I already know about, then it’s bye-bye, nighty-night for Victor.”

Kara switched back off her phone’s light and waited. Kornev said nothing, so Kara made sounds like she was getting back to her feet.

Kornev began to talk and provided a long stream of countries and cities and addresses. When he was done, he stopped talking, and Kara turned back on the light.

She said, “Second, I want to know not only the group who was responsible for killing my parents, but I want to know the name of the person as well who pulled the trigger on the missile.”

Kara waited patiently for Kornev to spill his guts.

“I don’t know the name of the man who killed your parents,” Kornev said.

Kara shut off the light again and moved her feet around on the dirty floor.

“I don’t know the name of the man, but I know the name of the leader of the jihadi’s sect. And that man knows the name of the person you want.”

“And what is the name of the sect and the name of their leader?”

Kornev told her.

“The last thing I need to know is the phone number of your friend. You know, the doctor that we visited here in Termez.”

Kara got back to her feet, turning back on the light.

“Why do you want that information?”

“Well, someone has to let you out of here, don’t they?” Kara said with a smile.

“How long are you going to leave me here?”

“Wrong answer,” Kara said, turning off the light.

Realizing that it was in his best interest to provide Kara with the information she requested, Kornev quickly recited his friend’s phone number. Kara pressed the button on her phone to stop the recording.

She didn’t thank Kornev for the information. Instead, she requested his car keys, cellphone and wallet. Kornev awkwardly reached into his front and back pockets, producing the items. Kara took them from his cuffed hands. Kara put her phone up in front of her, so the light was shining on her face. She wanted to make sure that Kornev could clearly see her.

“You’re a slimeball, Victor, and I wish I had the green light to kill you. And believe me, I would do it in a New York minute. You need to understand that Marshall Hail wants you dead, even more than I do, if that’s possible. If I give Hail the go-ahead some quiet night a flying mechanical mosquito would bite your arm. Within minutes, or maybe after days of suffering, you would die. I advise you to against trying to find me. Also, don’t tell the CIA or Hail what you know. As far as you know, I got back on the first plane out of this God-forsaken place. Do you understand?”

She couldn’t see Kornev nod in the semidarkness.

She began to walk towards the end of the tunnel.

“Wait!” Kornev called after her. “I told you what you wanted to know. Cut me loose.”

Kara kept walking and yelled down the hall, “I’ve got the phone number of your doctor friend here in Termez. Once I’m safely out of the country, I’ll give him a ring and have him come get you. Until then, chill out.”

At the end of the tunnel, Kara began climbing the stairs.

She felt a wetness on her face and realized they were her own tears, and she didn’t understand why. She wasn’t particularly sad, but this deviation from the norm would not go unnoticed or unpunished by her boss. At this point, there was no going back to who she had been for the better part of her life. And Kara realized she was finally adapting to this new lifestyle. Before The Five, she had been a pampered daughter living in a loving and supportive family attending college. When that life had been erased by Kornev and his clientele, she had become a CIA loner. Now, she could scratch out the letters CIA, and she could simply be referred to as a loner. Being a loner was, well, lonely. Maybe the tears reflected an understanding she was now all alone and very well would live a solitary life from this point forth.

Once Kara had reached the garage, she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She set both her cellphone and Kornev’s cellphone behind the Hummer’s back tires. She climbed into the Hummer, opened the garage door and backed out, crushing both cellphones. This removed the only link to anyone who still cared about her. Kara turned toward the airport, and she hit the gas in hopes she wouldn’t have to wait long for a plane destined for anywhere but Uzbekistan.