The Emerald Scepter

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Rashid had entered the fort through a breach in a crumbling wall and was standing in the shadows of the arcade behind a stone pillar, where he could see the heavy-set man sitting on a stone bench next to the tower entrance. The man’s rifle rested on his lap and he appeared to be dozing.

Rashid considered his options. If he attempted to cross the courtyard to get to the touring car, the man might wake up or someone inside the tower could see him through a window. He was pondering his move when the woman and the other man popped into view at the top of the tower.

They walked along the side of the observation platform closest to him and disappeared from his line of sight. He gambled that they would stay on the roof for a few moments and brought the rifle to his shoulder. He trained the cross-hairs of the telescopic sight on the sleeping man. He tried for a killing shot to the heart, but in his haste he aimed low.

The gun coughed softly and a millisecond later the man stiffened and his eyes popped open in surprise. His face contorted in pain and he brought his hands to his abdomen.

Rashid cursed. Damn. He’d gut shot his target. He aimed again, but his target stood, took a few steps and turned toward the door. Rashid put a second bullet between the man’s shoulder blades. With superhuman effort, the fatally wounded man managed to call out something before he collapsed and died.

Rashid bided his time until the younger man soon appeared in the doorway, knelt by the dead man’s side, and then looked up, a stricken expression on his face. He swept the courtyard with his eyes, then stood and brought his rifle to his shoulder, searching for a target, unaware that he had already become one. Rashid killed Baht with a single shot to the heart.

As Baht fell on top of his friend, Rashid emerged from hiding and quickly crossed to the tower door. He checked the car and found the keys in the ignition. He could have gotten in the car at that point and driven off, but his blood was up. He stepped over the warm bodies and entered the tower to look for his next victim.

Cait was shooting pictures madly, as if in a trance.

When she had all the photos she needed, she came back to the damaged wall and knelt by the pile of plaster fragments. She got a Coleman LED camp light from her duffle, which Baht had left behind, and began to examine the pieces one-by-one.

Most of the shards were blank or had squiggles representing roads or mountains drawn on them. But then she found one with letters printed on it:

She took her hat off and placed it upside down on the floor to use as a receptacle for other pieces that might have writing on them. She found a few more and guessed that they were place names, but she almost fainted with excitement when she found a fragment that said:

Could it be? She placed the fragments side by side and with her finger drew the missing letters in the dust.

She was staring at the words when she heard a footfall behind her.

Without looking, she said: “Hi Baht. Can you give me a hand with this?”

When there was no answer, she turned her head and saw standing in the dimness not Baht, but a stranger who had a squat physique. He was around six feet away and held a rifle with an oddly-shaped barrel in the crook of his arm.

“Who are you?” Cait said.

“A traveler in need,” said Rashid.

Cait reached for the camp light and slowly got to her feet. She raised the lantern high and in its pale blue light she could see the hungry eyes of a predator staring at her like a lion watching a gazelle. She wondered how this creep got past Baht and Ghatool. A frisson of fear went through her as she realized there was only one way that could have happened.

As if reading her thoughts, the man said, “Both your friends are dead. If you cooperate I may let you live.”

Cait knew exactly what sort of cooperation he had in mind, and her revulsion at the prospect pumped up her courage.

“All right. Just don’t kill me,” she said, having no trouble injecting a nervous tremor into her voice. He took a couple of steps closer. When he got in range, she swung the lantern by its handle, aiming for the head. He was quicker than she expected and fended off the attack with his brawny forearm.

Cait dropped the lantern and tried to duck past him, but his hand shot out with the speed of a striking cobra and he grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her to him. One arm wrapped around her neck and the other still held his rifle.

She snapped her head back into his nose, eliciting a yell and a satisfying crunch of cartilage, but her triumph was short-lived. He ignored the blood streaming from his ruined nose, spun her around and cuffed her cheek with a bear-like swipe of his open hand.

She was temporarily dazed from the blow and stopped fighting long enough for him to slam her shoulder blades against the wall. Then he reached down to the back of her knees so that she slipped down to a sitting position. The impact knocked the wind out of her. His hands grabbed her ankles and pulled again until she was stretched out on the floor.

Cait’s hand groped along the floor, searching for the flashlight she had placed near the wall, but it found a metal object instead. She wrapped her fingers around the object and brought it up, aiming for her attacker’s eyes. He was too quick, jerking his head back so the sharp end of the metal only raked his cheek. There was a cry of pain and she tried to roll aside and away, but he caught her arm with his left hand and punched her in the jaw, this time using his fist rather than his hand.

Rashid wiped the blood away from his face. His right hand slid along his belt and his fingers closed on the handle of the three-inch knife hidden in the buckle. Cait was dazed but still awake. Her eyes were fixed on the blade. Good, Rashid thought. She will see what is coming. He ripped open the front of her shirt, placed the knife-point above her breasts and moved it back and forth with just enough pressure to draw a bead of blood. Then he froze as he felt a metallic pressure at the base of his skull. A male voice said:

“Fun’s over, Rashid.”

Rashid couldn’t believe his ears.

Hawkins.

“How did you find me?”

“I followed a bad smell. Now get up. Slowly. Hands in the air.”

Hawkins pulled the gun away from Rashid’s skull and stepped back out of reach. Rashid slowly stood, palming the knife as he reached for the ceiling.

“That’s better. Now step aside,” Hawkins ordered.

Rashid did as he was told. He saw Hawkins moving in from the left to tend to the woman. He still had his pistol leveled at Rashid’s mid-section, but he took his eye off the man for a second as he extended his hand toward Cait. Rashid tensed, ready to swivel and slash the short blade across Hawkins’ exposed throat.

Cait’s eyes were open and staring. She yelled a warning.

“He’s got a knife!”

Hawkins saw the glint of metal as the knife began its arc. He fired instinctively without aiming. The bullet shattered Rashid’s sternum and the knife flew from his hand and clattered to the floor. Cait rolled out of the away to avoid the man’s crashing body. She lay on her side, staring at Rashid’s vacant eyes, then with Hawkins’ help, she stood on shaky legs. Hawkins stepped over to examine the dead man so as to give Cait a moment of modesty to reassemble her clothes, then turned back and said:

“Are you okay, Dr. Everson?”

Cait was surprised to hear the man say her name. “Yes. You know me?”

“Only by your work. My name is Matt Hawkins. I stopped by Georgetown hoping to invite you to dinner so we could talk about maritime silk routes. It was quite a surprise to find you here.”

“I’m very glad that you did.”

“Me, too. Now we can talk about that dinner.”

Cait stared at Hawkins. “Dinner,” she said in a dead voice.

“That must sound a bit crazy.”

“A little bit.”

“No rush. I was talking about a future date, and different place, of course.”

She studied the handsome, dark-complexioned face and wondered who this person was who had found her in one of the most remote places on earth, rescued her at risk to his own life, killed a man in the process and asked her out on a date. She realized that his lighthearted patter was aimed at trying to keep her from going into shock.

“You seem to know a lot more about me than I know about you, Mr. Hawkins. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“That’s a long story. I’d be glad to explain after we tend to your injuries.”

“That might be a good idea.” She touched her swollen jaw with her fingers and winced in pain, then glanced at Rashid, who lay face up. “I’m glad you killed that bastard.”

Hawkins would have liked to have kept Rashid alive long enough to find out why he’d tried to kill him, but he couldn’t blame Dr. Everson for her hard feelings.

“From the looks of his face, you got a head start.”

Cait started to reply to his comment, but said instead, “I’m a bit dizzy. Maybe I should get some air.”

Hawkins nodded, and took her by the arm as they made their way down to the first level. Cait gasped when she saw the bodies of Baht and Ghatool lying on the threshold, but Hawkins had more immediate concerns he had to deal with.

As he stepped into the open, he saw Calvin and Abby face down on the courtyard.

The muzzles of six automatic rifles were pointed at his heart.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he heard someone bark an order. Hawkins knew enough Pashto to understand the words.

“Kill him!”