LITMIR.BIZ

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too. BJS did a lot of flying into the jungle villages to deliver health care when we weren’t chasing druggies. This place is a lot worse.”

      Gavin enjoyed being close to Nike. About six inches separated them and he wished he could close the gap. The best he could do was keep them talking. “These people deserve our help. You look kind of pretty in that red hijab. Do you like wearing it?”

      “No, but I respect their traditions. At least Abbas didn’t demand I climb into one of those burkas.”

      “Indoors, the women wear more casual clothes and no hijab,” Gavin told her. “It’s just when they go out in the community that they put on the burka or hijab.”

      “That robe looks like a prison to me,” Nike muttered. “I asked Jameela today what she thought of the burka and she liked it. I couldn’t believe it.”

      “In their culture, most women accept that their body and face are to be looked upon only by their husbands. The way the men figure it, if the woman is hidden, she’s not a temptation to others.”

      “Why don’t their husbands show some responsibility for what’s between their legs? Then a woman would be safe to wear whatever she wants.”

      “Yeah, I can’t disagree with your logic, but that’s not the way their world turns, and sometimes we have to fit in, not try to change it.”

      Nike felt the coldness coming off the mountains in the evening breeze. “I feel absolutely suffocated by their culture’s attitudes toward women. You don’t find an Afghan woman flying a combat helicopter.”

      “No doubt.” Gavin saw her put her hands beneath the armpits of her jacket to keep them warm. He took a step forward and allowed his heavily clothed body to contact hers. Her eyes widened for a moment. “I’ll keep you warm,” he soothed.

      “Right now, I’m so damned cold I’m not going to protest.”

      Chuckling, Gavin continued to look around. “Things seem to be quiet. I’ve been working with Abbas most of the day. You know, he won’t admit that the Taliban comes through their village, but we have satellite photos as proof.”

      “Is he pro-Taliban? Or just afraid of them like everyone else?” Nike absorbed the heat from his woolen Afghan clothes. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to slide her hands beneath the folds and place her hands against his well-sprung chest. It was a forbidden thought, but tantalizing, nonetheless.

      “I’m pretty sure he’s afraid of them. There aren’t many village chieftains or sheiks who get in bed with the devil and the Taliban is all of that,” Gavin said, his mouth quirking. “He told me that the Taliban came in here and ordered their girls’ school shut down. He’s a man of education, and he didn’t like being ordered to do that. Abbas continues to teach the girls and women of his village behind closed doors in defiance of their orders. He’s a man of strong principles and morals. He believes women deserve education just as much as any man. And Abbas is enlightened compared to other village leaders.”

      “He was a teacher?” Nike found that inspiring for a man who lived in such a rugged, isolated area.

      “Abbas was born here in this village. His father sent him to Kabul for higher schooling. He graduated with a degree in biology. When Abbas returned home, he helped the village breeding programs so that their sheep produced better wool. That helps to raise their economy because better wool demands a higher price at market. And he increased goat-milk output. He’s done a lot in the region and he’s respected by everyone because of this.”

      “Wow, I’d never have guessed. No wonder he’s the head elder.”

      “Looks are deceiving.” Gavin watched the high clouds across the valley turn a dark pink as the sun set more deeply below the western mountains. “He’s carrying a lot of loads on his shoulders, Nike. Abbas takes his responsibilities as leader seriously. He’s got a lot of problems and few ways to resolve them. When I asked him about medical and health help from the Afghan government, he got angry. Over the years, he’s made many trips to the capital to urge them to bring out a health team every three months to these border villages, but he could never get them to agree to it. And Afghan people are superindependent. They really have a tough time looking at a centralized government to rule over them.”

      “That’s awful that the politicians in Kabul wouldn’t help these people. Can you imagine that happening in the USA or Greece? There would be a helluva uprising.”

      “Abbas doesn’t accept his government’s lack of care,” Gavin said. “When you realize Afghanistan is cobbled together out of about four hundred different clans or tribes, you can see why they wouldn’t place trust in a Kabul government. Our job is to try and persuade Abbas that his own government does want to work with him.”

      “How are you going to convince him Kabul’s listening and willing to pitch in some medical help out here in the border area?”

      “I told Abbas that the report I write up regarding our visit will be given to the health minister of the government. This minister is trying hard to change old, outdated policies. I pointed out to Abbas other border villages south of him already have intervention, supplies and funds on a routine schedule from Kabul.”

      “Does he believe you?”

      “No, but over time he will.”

      “And you and your team will stay here four weeks?”

      “Yes. From the satellite photos, we know that the Taliban uses the north end of this valley twice a month. We’ve set up to be here when they try to cross it a week from now.”

      “And then what?” Nike grew afraid for Gavin and his team.

      He shrugged. “Do what we’re good at—stopping them cold in their tracks and denying them access across this valley.”

      “What will Abbas do?”

      “I don’t know. He knows if we stop the Taliban from crossing, they could take revenge on this village. This is what Abbas is worried about.”

      “He’s right about that.” Nike leaned against Gavin a little more. The dusk air had a real bite to it. His arms came around and bracketed her. For a moment, she questioned her silent body language. Why had she done this? Something primal drove her like a magnet to this military man. Fighting herself, Nike finally surrendered to the moment. She had been too long without a man in her life, and she was starved for male contact. Yet, what message did this send to Gavin? Was he reading her correctly or assuming? Unsure, Nike remained tense in his embrace.

      “Comfy?” he teased quietly. Surprised by Nike’s unexpected move, Gavin hungrily savored her nearness. He had wrapped his arms around her but resisted pressing her tightly against himself. Right now, just the fact she’d allowed this kind of intimate contact was enough of a gift. Even though they sparred like fighters in a ring, he’d seen something in her gold eyes that he could never quite accurately read. Maybe this was the result of that smoldering look he’d seen banked in her expression. Only time and patience would tell.

      “Yes, thank you.”

      Gavin wasn’t about to do anything stupid. She had given herself to him in a way that he’d never entertained. Maybe it was the pink beauty of the clouds across the valley that had inspired her in this wonderful moment.

      “What are you going to do here?” Nike asked.

      “We know from satellite reconnaissance that the Taliban uses the north end of this valley at the new moon, when it’s darkest. We’ll be intercepting them if they try it next week.”

      “There’s only ten of you. There could be a hundred or more fighters crossing that border and coming down into this valley.”

      “Are you worried?” Gavin ventured.

      “Any sane person would be.”

      Laughing quietly, Gavin closed his eyes for a moment and simply absorbed

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