Chapter 6
Mohammed directed Oscar through the small town, pointing to the coffee house as the most likely place to find someone who would be interested in purchasing the Mercedes. It wasn't as though there was a car dealership in the area. Oscar stopped the car in front of the small building and looked around the area.
The place was clearly not a chain coffee house based in Seattle. The front of the building was open to the street. Chairs lined one wall with small tables set in front of them. The occupants of the building stared at the car. All conversation came to a halt. Even though it was the middle of the day, a half dozen men were seated in small chairs drinking small cups of tea. Each man had a gun within easy reach and, without exception, each man reached over to touch their gun when Oscar stepped out of the car and looked around.
All of them focused their attention on Oscar. A small wave of apprehension traveled through the group as each wondered if this was the man who talked with Allah. The descriptions of Oscar that had circulated had spanned heights of four foot nothing to a veritable giant. All descriptions agreed on the robe, cloak, staff, and medallion. When Oscar pulled his staff from the car and turned to face them, a collective gasp traveled through the gathered men.
Mohammed got out of the passenger side and winced when he spotted his father among the men drinking coffee. He knew that his father was going to hit him up side the head for leaving the sheep unguarded. He muttered, "Maybe this was a bad idea after all."
Oscar stepped into the coffee house and took a seat. Looking over at the proprietor, he said, "I'll have a coffee. I'm not quite sure what the young man will have."
Mohammed stepped into the coffee house and approached his father. In a soft voice, he said, "Don't worry about the sheep. Someone is watching them for me."
"Who?" his father asked turning his head away from Oscar to look at his son. It wasn't until his son had spoken that he even realized that he was there. He wasn't sure if he could have resisted traveling with a prophet had such an invitation been given to him. Given that, he wasn't all that angry with the young man. Of course, he wasn't sure if traveling with a prophet was all that healthy, either.
"The one traveling with him," Mohammed answered.
"The woman?" his father asked knowing enough that Oscar's companion was a woman. The fact that the Desert Ghost had trained the American fighters with the help of a woman was widely known. She was not a woman to be taken lightly.
"Yes," Mohammed answered expecting his father to get angry with him for leaving the sheep in the care of a woman.
His father was silent for a long minute and then said, "Times are changing. The voice of Allah travels with a woman for protection rather than a man. There is a message there for us if we are wise enough to listen."
"What message?"
"I'm not wise enough to know that," his father answered looking over at Oscar. Women were to be protected, not to provide the protection. The world had been turned upside down.
The fact that his father said he was not wise enough to know something surprised Mohammed. As far as he knew, his father was one of the wisest men in the area. It was his father who had been most vocal in supporting the ban against Jihad by the Sword. He didn't know what to say.
His father sighed and asked, "What is he doing here?"
"He has come to trade his car for camels," Mohammed answered.
Watching Oscar sip his coffee, he said, "When he finishes his coffee I'll take him to Hussein. Hussein is vain enough to want a western car even out here."
As soon as Oscar had left with Mohammed, Georgia had removed the Burka leaving her wearing her desert fatigues. Reaching into the pocket of her shirt, she removed the three small containers of camouflage paint and went to work fixing her face so that she could blend into the background. It struck her as ironic that most women applied a very different kind of makeup to avoid blending into the background.
Once her camouflage was complete, she moved around to find a nice place from which to watch the sheep. Her criteria in selecting a spot were simple, she should be able to watch the flock and be hidden from view. When she did find a spot that met her criteria she was pleased to learn that it was also relatively comfortable.
Most people would have been fidgeting after an hour, but Georgia was used to staying in one place and one position for hours at a time. Sitting out there in the rugged terrain reminded her of her time in Afghanistan with Oscar. Falling back into old habits, her eyes watched the horizon while her mind worked over the state of her life.
Georgia had enjoyed her time in Afghanistan. She was enjoying this trip, but it wasn't quite the same. The fact was that she missed Debbie. It felt to her like a part of herself was missing and the realization that Debbie had become so important to her was surprising. She wondered how it had come about that another woman was as important to her as Oscar.
There was also a small sense of finality to this trip that had never been present in her relationship with Oscar while in Afghanistan. She knew that he was going to have to pay a high price for bringing peace to this part of the world. That thought reminded her of the high price that she would pay as well. It was almost definite that she would lose Oscar and possibly Debbie once Oscar was gone. The idea depressed her.
Hours passed while she considered the nature of her unusual marriage. She had to get up once to move the sheep back into a more compact group. After that little exercise, she found another place from which to watch the sheep. In this place, she could also observe the young man at the other end of the valley watching over his sheep. He was not making much of an effort to blend into his surroundings.
Amid was passing the time as young men had passed time ever since the first shepherd watched over his sheep. He was playing with a sling. Georgia watched as he reached down and picked up a small stone and then started swinging the sling. With a quick flick of his hand, he launched the rock at a small pile of stones. Even from the distance, it was obvious that he had hit his target when the topmost stone fell to the ground.
It was the kind of scene that echoed across the centuries. In the past, a shepherd's skill with a sling had protected sheep from wolves and other predators. Today, the shepherd was more likely to use a gun to protect the sheep. In these uncertain times, the predator was just as likely to be human as animal. The thought forced a sigh from her.
The idyllic scene was suddenly shattered when a dozen men appeared behind Amid. Georgia knew that it wasn't a friendly visit since they were pointing their guns at the young man. The young man slowly turned and looked at the men. His gun was laying against a boulder several paces away, but it might as well have been a mile for all of the good it was doing him.
Even at the distance between them, Georgia could see Amid pale as his mind made the calculation concerning his chances of survival. They were bad and getting worse by the minute. He kept glancing at the rifle wondering if he could reach it before getting killed and the answer he kept coming up with was no.
She took the time to count the men and marveled at the fact that it was an even dozen. It made her wonder why there weren't eleven or fourteen of them. There were times when she felt that two, three, and twelve were magic numbers. It seemed like things always came in pairs, triples, or dozens. However, the situation was serious enough that she couldn't afford worrying about little things like that.
Adjusting the rifle, Georgia took aim at the leader of the men. She had never shot a man and didn't think she could do it. When the man raised his rifle to shoot Amid, her finger curled around the trigger. The big man fell a second after her rifle spit forth a bullet.
The other men, surprised by the sudden death of their leader, turned to locate their attacker. Amid, a decently intelligent young man, ran for cover. Georgia fired off two more shots before the group managed to return fire. Although this was the first time she had ever engaged an enemy for real, Georgia discovered that she was truly in her element. She ducked down and crawled away to change her location.
Fifty meters from where she had initially fired upon the terrorists, Georgia looked out over the valley. The sheep had scattered as a result of the five men charging towards her original position. Shaking her head, she adjusted her position to take care of them. Three shots later and the number of terrorists had been reduced by three.
The battle lasted most of the afternoon. It had turned into a sniper's war; long distance shots at targets that were doing their best not to be seen. Headshots were the order of the day. It was difficult because not one rifle had a scope. Georgia was at a huge disadvantage in terms of numbers, but she was much more patient then those she faced and she was better prepared to hide herself.
Georgia had lost track of the location of Amid during the course of the fight, but she wasn't all that worried about him. The attention of the terrorists was on her and he had plenty of time to make good his escape. The rifle that he had left behind had disappeared when she changed positions for the last time. Three terrorists remained and she didn't think any of them had been by the rifle. The disappearance of the rifle bothered her.
A shot rang out and, from the sound of it, Georgia knew that it wasn't aimed at her. Two men suddenly moved around the rocks they had been hiding behind. She took aim at the furthest man and squeezed the trigger. The man collapsed on the ground. The other man turned to face her. She squeezed off another shot and that man fell to the ground.
She was now facing a dilemma. She was confident that eleven of the original twelve men were out of action. The twelfth man's condition was in doubt. Had Amid shot the twelfth man or had he missed. Her dilemma was solved when she noticed movement heading in the direction from which Amid's shot had originated.
What followed was a ballet in slow motion. The terrorist was slowly moving in the direction of Amid. The young man was moving in an effort to keep safe. Georgia was moving slowly to reach a position that would allow her a good shot at the last terrorist. The end came quickly when Georgia put a bullet in the heart of the terrorist.
After moving to a new position with the same kind of care taken earlier, Georgia paused to recount the shots fired and the men killed. Three times she worked through the chain of events and kept coming to the same answer. Twelve terrorists were dead. That didn't mean she was safe. There could have been others present in the area that she hadn't seen. Deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry, she settled in to watch the area for any sign that others were moving around.
Oscar stepped into the Mosque and faced the golden glow that filled the center of the room. A voice echoed through the room, "Welcome once again to my house, Oscar Meyers."
"Thank you," Oscar said. He looked around at the crowd of men who were kneeling on the floor around him. He said, "The majority of your followers here have already accepted the ban against Jihad by the Sword, but there some who do not accept it yet."
"As you know, your woman is taking care of that problem even as we speak. Amid owes his life to her. She is a great warrior," the voice replied.
The announcement sent shock waves through the men gathered in the room and listening outside. The idea that Allah would praise a woman as being a great warrior was a shock; it ran counter to a core belief that women should be hidden away and protected from the harsh realities of life. It wasn't that women weren't respected in Islam. Women were important in a private way. They were to be protected. They were the source of fine sons who would carry the father's line. The men wondered if Allah was going to change the relationship between man and woman.
Not everyone reacted to the announcement in shock. One of the men pushed his way out of the Mosque with tears in his eyes in reaction to hearing his son's name spoken by Allah. The honor it represented was overwhelmed by the suggestion of danger that had threatened his son. He had to see if his son was unharmed.
Nodding his head, Oscar said, "Yes she is."
Allah's voice echoed through the room, "When you leave take all with you except the young man who came with you."
Mohammed, kneeling on the floor, looked up at the golden glow with wide eyes and open mouth. His father, kneeling beside him, had an identical reaction.
Oscar looked down at Mohammed and then studied his staff. Nodding his head, he said, "The Powers that Be have always favored shepherds."
"Some prefer awkward young men who can't walk without stumbling," Allah said.
Georgia watched over the valley. The sheep had scattered in every direction and it would take her hours to collect them. There had been nothing else moving except in the area where Amid had hidden himself. Convinced that it was finally safe enough to move again, she headed over to where her supplies had been stashed.
Once she reached her supplies, she grabbed a bottle of water and quickly drank it down. It had been a hot afternoon and she was seriously dehydrated. The water threatened to return on her and she said, "I know better than that."
She settled back and allowed her eyes to scan the horizon. Alert to any movement, she spotted Amid the moment he came out of hiding. His movements reminded her of a deer moving out of the woods at the height of hunting season. Each step was followed by a long pause to detect any threat. When no threat appeared, he would take another step.
Rather than leave her position, she watched him finally relax and get back to the business of being a shepherd. After he had collected most of his sheep, she remembered that her job out there was to watch over Mohammed's sheep. Weary, she climbed down from her hiding spot and headed towards four sheep that had wandered furthest from the rest of the flock. The rocky terrain made walking difficult, but Georgia was wearing a good pair of combat boots.
While moving the recalcitrant sheep to the rest of the herd, Georgia passed by the body of one of the men she had killed. The enormity of what she had done came crashing down upon her. Feeling weak, she fell to her knees and then threw up. When she reached the point where there was nothing left in her stomach, she continued with dry heaves. Suddenly, Georgia felt a huge electrical shock as if she had been hit by a bolt of lightening.
Georgia slowly became aware that she had lost consciousness. She tried to sit up, but found that the best she could do was regain a kneeling position. Shaking her head, she tried to figure out what had happened to her. For a second, she thought she had been struck by a bullet. A quick check of her body put that concern to rest.
A small male voice came from behind her, "Thank you for saving my life."
Wiping her mouth in an attempt to clear it of the last acrid taste of vomit, Georgia turned to look at Amid. Smiling weakly, she said, "You're most welcome."
"You're a woman," Amid said surprised by her gender.
"Yes, I am," Georgia said.
Amid looked around the field for a minute and said, "I've never shot at a person before. It was far harder to do than I thought it would be."
"It was easier than I thought it would be," Georgia replied glancing over at the body laying twenty feet from where she knelt. Shaking her head, she said, "It is worse afterwards than I could have ever imagined."
"I can understand that," Amid said. He was feeling a little ill himself, but his reasons were a little more physical than emotional. The stale odor of human excrement lingered in the air, along with smell from the recent contents of Georgia's stomach.
Rising unsteadily to her feet, Georgia said, "I should gather up the sheep."
"I'll help you," Amid said. He turned and headed off to a small cluster of sheep that had run off from the rest of the flock. To be honest, he was feeling a little ill at how close he had come to being killed. The bravado that he and Mohammed normally exchanged out here was coming back to haunt him. He wasn't nearly as brave as he had boasted. At the moment he felt like the thirteen year old boy that he was.
Georgia herded the sheep together and paused to count them. With the sheep Amid was leading in her direction she counted eleven less sheep in the flock than were there originally. Sighing, she looked around trying to locate the missing animals. She spotted three groups of animals in very different directions. Sighing, she headed for the furthest group.
Amid had gathered the other two by the time Georgia had brought her group to the flock. She counted them and then said, "There's one missing."
"It was killed when they opened fire at you. It is over there," Amid said while pointing to a large boulder.
"I suppose we ought to butcher it," Georgia said thinking that it would be a waste of meat to leave it there. It seemed to her that life out here was tough and leaving food to rot in the sun would be a crime.
Amid shook his head and said, "The meat is spoiled by now. It was shot in the stomach and it has been out in the sun for hours."
"Oh," Georgia said.
The pair looked at each other for a minute. Georgia didn't know what to talk about with a shepherd. Amid didn't feel comfortable talking with a woman, particularly an unescorted woman. The stalemate was ended when a man came running in their direction. Georgia reacted by swinging her gun in the man's direction and taking aim. She was about to fire when Amid shouted, "That is my father!"
The man paused at the far end of the valley and shouted, "Amid! Where are you?"
Amid answered, "I'm here, father!"
The man turned and headed in their direction. Despite his desire to see his son, he was careful not to scatter the sheep. Having grown up herding sheep, he knew not to run through the flock. When he reached Amid, he grabbed the young man and hugged him. With relief evident in his voice, he said, "Praise Allah for sparing your life."
Surprised at his father's behavior, Amid asked, "How did you know that I was attacked?"
"I was at the Mosque when the man who talks with Allah came there. Allah mentioned you by name and said that the woman had saved your life," the man answered. He looked over at Georgia for the first time. Her attire made her look more like a man than a woman. Turning his head away from her and lowering his gaze to the ground in an effort to assure that he would not be accused of making unwanted advances, he said, "Thank you for saving my son."
"You're welcome," Georgia replied. She was surprised that Allah had mentioned her and wondered what it meant.
"My name is Jumah bin Sadaqat. What ever debt we owe you for his life, I will gladly pay it." He meant every word that he had said. In the past three years he had lost all of his other sons, his daughters, and his wife. He felt that he would be a broken man if his son, Amid, were to die. In a way, her actions in saving his son were also saving him from an old age of bitter regrets.
"You owe me no debt," Georgia said.
"You are wrong. He owes you a debt for saving his life. I owe you a debt because you have saved the life of my only son. We owe you a great debt," Jumah said feeling uneasy about the fact that she was a woman. With a man he would have known how to argue his position.
Understanding that her gender was an issue, she said, "You will need to talk to my husband."
Pleased that the conversation was taking a much more comfortable direction, Jumah nodded his head and said, "Of course. I understand. We shall go to the other side of the valley until the Desert Ghost returns. It would be unpleasant if my intentions were misunderstood."
Georgia watched as the two men turned without saying another word and walked across the valley. Now that she was alone and the sheep were together, she went back to where her supplies were stashed. Sitting down, she grabbed an MRE and ate her dinner. It was getting close to dark and she wondered when Oscar would return.
While waiting for Oscar she thought about her conversation with Jumah and Amid. It wasn't until she moved the Burka that she realized she had dealt with them wearing her combat fatigues. She looked down the length of the valley hoping that it wouldn't create a problem for Oscar. She looked at the hated outfit and said, "Sorry Oscar, I'm not wearing that tent out here."
She wadded it into a ball to use as a pillow and laid back to look up at the sky. The sun was still up but there were a few stars visible. It took her a minute to realize that one of them wasn't a star, but a satellite. It moved too fast to be a star. Thinking about the satellite reminded her of her sister. Grinning slightly, she said, "I hope you're watching over me, Jennifer."
Looking up at the satellite, her mind wandered back to the conversation with the two men on the other end of the valley. There was something bothering her about it, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She tried to recall if there was anything about what Jumah said that was a veiled threat. As much as she searched her memory, she couldn't come up with anything.
After replaying the conversation in her mind for one last time, she sat up and said, "I understood every word they said. I don't even speak their language!"
From high in the sky above her, Georgia heard a chuckle. She looked
up at the sky and frowned as soon as she realized the source of her
sudden gift with languages. She wondered which of the Powers that Be
was responsible for her new ability. Shrugging her shoulders, she
looked up in the sky and said, "Thank you."