Chapter 18

I knew we had reached the border because the next checkpoint was manned by Pakistani regular soldiers and not the bearded Taliban with their hard canes and short whips to keep people in order.

An old woman had fallen to her knees praying her thanks to God that she had made it out of the Hell that was Afghanistan at that time. She was a talkative female and shared her news of multiple cranes bearing the rotting fruit of dead recently hanged victims to advertise that Sharia Law was back in full bloom like the poppies that grew in all the fertile lands irrigated for bumper crops of the prime drug trade ingredient. I wondered where the Chinese females working the fields had come from and if they were temporary or permanent slaves to the system that sent the drugs down to the gateway to the Western world and runaway consumption.

Our pair of raped women attached to us closer than ever before, and I told the guards that we were a family unit traveling to Islamabad for business and pleasure. The young girl was taken into the guard tent for “tea”, and I was certain she was getting lots of attention from the isolated soldiers manning the checkpoint. Her older sister did not seem the least bit worried, and I noticed that another pair of nubile females had joined her inside providing entertainment of a carnal nature hidden away from prying eyes concerned about proper actions in the sight of Allah the almighty.

The office in charge appeared to take an interest in my phony Pakistani passport and I hoped he was only going through the motions because there was a lull in the traffic coming down the road from the savage mountains behind us. He had his arm around Laibah’s shoulders and was touching her bottom with easy familiarity. I realized that he thought he had an innocent young boy in his grasp and wondered how far he was willing to show his gender preference in public. It was not a smart move on his part because there were many true believers in the crowd. and they would shun any display of immoral behavior regardless of the circumstances.

Laibah, the little tease was pressing her tiny bottom into the man’s thigh and even perched on his leg at one point pretending to ride it like a pony with her long tapered legs. I was certain the man was getting the pressure of her ass cheeks up tight against his gonads making him hot under the collar and eager to pull down her trousers and ravage her rump with vile liberties taken against her personal dignity. I knew he would never do that in public and told Laibah to not go into the tent under any circumstances because it was far too “dangerous”.

The immature girl took heed of my warning and she bunked down at my feet more for security than warmth or affection.

The younger sister of our two companions spooned into my groin and I fell off to sleep hoping that we would be able to pass this checkpoint the next morning because these Pakistani soldiers seemed almost more of a threat than the new improved Taliban.

Fortunately, they allowed all the travelers to leave the next morning to continue the journey down into better organized farming fields of the Pakistan side of the border. The road was lined with a number of vendors selling all sorts of goods to the travelers. I told my charges to avoid even the slightest hint of interest in their offers because it would be seen as a sign of weakness, and we would be bombarded with never-ending requests to purchase items in which we had no interest at all.

When we stopped at a roadside establishment for some refreshing tea, I distributed a small amount of our stored supplies for a mid-day meal and paid a merchant to use his cell phone to contact my old boss in Islamabad. His female assistant told me that he had gone to the “field” to check on reports of Taliban incursions across the border. The woman knew me by my old code-name and she told me that the office had changed in my absence and the new people were talking to the Taliban every day attempting to discover their intentions in Afghanistan-Pakistan relations. She told me that my old Al Queda pals were looking for me and that they were not satisfied with my reported demise when the London cell had been rolled up by MI-6 and the CIA.

Apparently, the more fanatical Jihadist elements were bombing the Afghan mosques killing Taliban fighters and innocent civilians at the same time. I knew this was a distinct possibility because I had encountered the same sort of mentality in the London operation that convinced me to distance myself from the mission before losing my life to some silly whim of a fanatical administrator with little or no time in field work in the West.

I decided to arrange a meeting as soon as possible to explain my escape from the clutches of the Western Intelligence agencies and attempt to get back into the Pakistani unit that had trained me and sponsored my London operation. I had to explain a lot of my exposed vices falling into the velvet trap of Western decadence. I knew that the explanation of merely conforming to my cover would probably work providing they bought my proposal for a new operation using the Australian female child as my main operative would hopefully save my ass in more ways than one.

My old boss had shared with me his suspicions that the Taliban would eventually win out over the Americans, just as their forebears had defeated both the British and the Russian invaders in turn.

We continued our journey to Islamabad riding the donkey cart doing our best to blend into the crowd of road travelers and avoiding police and military units bypassing the checkpoints.

Laibah complained to me that she was tired of being a “boy” and I had to hush her up before she blew her cover with the two sisters. I explained it was the best way for her to keep her dignity as a female at least until she was old enough to make a proper union with a future husband or boyfriend. She fumed for a bit and shrugged her shoulders in defeat and tightened the belt on her dirty trousers surrendering her rebellious nature to good common sense.