Sniper Elite: One-Way Trip

CHAPTER 44

Khan sat listening to the rattle in Sandra’s lungs, then plucked the stethoscope from his ears and turned to Kohistani. “I warned you this would happen. She’s been in this bed fighting infection for ten days and now she has pneumonia. She’ll be dead in a week.”

Kohistani stood looking at the withering American woman who lay sleeping, her eyes beginning to sink in her face. “You’re certain?”

“That she has pneumonia or that she’ll be dead?”

“Of both.”

“Yes,” Khan said. “Penicillin isn’t enough. I told you.”

Kohistani bridled at the continued impudence of the village doctor. “You had better learn to curb your tongue with me, Doctor, or I will have you beaten before the entire village as an example.”

Khan’s mouth remained a thin line, his gaze not quite defiant. “Are you going to ask the Americans for medicine for her? They could drop it from a plane.”

Kohistani shook his head. “If they suspect she’s dying, they’ll attempt to rescue her — there would be nothing for them to lose at that point. Is the leg wound healing?”

“Yes, finally, but that’s the least of her worries now.”

“I see.” Kohistani stood stroking his beard. He didn’t want the American to die yet, but her death was inevitable, and she had already served the greater part of her purpose. The last two of weeks of preparation had been critical to the valley’s defenses. If it was the will of Allah for her to live, she would live whether she was given a different medicine or not. Doctors put too much faith in medicine and too little in Allah.

He turned to the teenage guard sitting in the corner sharpening a knife. The boy was his dead brother’s only son. “They could come for her any night now, Nephew,” he said in Arabic so that neither Khan nor Badira could understand. “When the village falls under attack… as it must… you are to cut the American’s throat first… then that of this pig doctor as well.”

“It will be done, Uncle.”

“Very good.” Kohistani left the building.

The moment he was gone, Sandra’s bloodshot eyes opened and she looked at Badira. “So what’s going on?”

Badira averted her gaze. “Kohistani has sent for the medicine.”

Sandra coughed, and a sardonic chuckle slipped out. “Like hell, he did. He’s going to let me die. He’s worried my people will do something desperate if they find out I’m sick… right?”

Badira looked at Khan, started to say something, then stopped and nodded her head. “Is he correct? Will they attack if they think you are dying?”

Sandra drew the blankets up close to her chin, shivering with fever. “I don’t know what the hell they’ll do anymore. Can you give me some opium… please?”

“No. Khan says it will weaken your lungs.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Badira, I’m dying. What the fuck does it matter? Just let me have the goddamn shit.”

Khan heard the crossness in her tone. “What is she upset about?”

“She wants opium.”

He reached for his bag on the table. “I can give her pills for the pain.”

“It’s not only her leg she wants it for. She seeks oblivion.”

Khan shook his head and got up from the chair. “In that case, no. Opium smoke will speed the deterioration of her lungs. If she dies sooner than expected, Kohistani will hold me responsible.”

“Perhaps you could inject it,” Badira suggested. “We have heroin.”

Again, Khan refused. “Give her pills for the leg pain and keep her warm. Also, water and hot tea… lots of water and hot tea. And get her on her feet at least once every hour when she is awake, and keep her sitting up as much as possible.”

Badira let out a sigh. “We might as well put her on a horse and send her out to play buzkashi with the Karimov clan.”

Khan smiled his gentle smile, remembering their tender lovemaking the night before, Badira agreeing to remove the veil only after the candle had been put out. “I know you have become friends. But if you want her to live, you must be firm with her.”

“What’s he saying?” Sandra wanted to know, aggravated by all of the unintelligible talking going on around her. “He’s saying I can’t have the opium, right?”

“Yes,” Badira said. “He’s also saying that you need to get up and walk more.”

“Sure,” Sandra said, even more agitated. “Why not send me out to play a game of football while I’m at it?”

Badira’s eyes twinkled above the veil. “I told him the same thing… but you’re going to have to try. Also, you have to drink more of the tea.”

“It tastes like goat shit. Khan can drink the tea his damn self.”

Khan was watching Sandra with curious eyes, unaccustomed to seeing a woman so outspoken. “What’s she saying now?”

“That she doesn’t like the tea.”

He snorted. “You didn’t tell her what’s in it, did you?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Her guesses are close enough.”

“So what’s in the tea?” asked the teenager in the corner.

“A fermented fungus,” Khan said offhandedly, knowing it was the boy’s job to kill Sandra at the first sign of American treachery and detesting him for it.

Sandra inched up against the wall, drawing the blanket back to her chin. “So, have you two done it yet?” she asked out of the blue. “Fill me in here before I’m dead. Have you two lovebirds hooked up yet, or what?”

Badira’s eyes grew wide above the veil.

Khan saw this. “What did she say?”

Sandra recognized his inquisitive tone, snickering as she made the gesture for sexual intercourse with her thumb and forefingers. “Sex, Khan. Have you two had sex yet?”

Khan recognized both the gesture and the word sex. He looked at Badira and laughed, his face flushing slightly. “Americans,” he said, shaking his head. “Irreverent to the last.”