Midnight Sun by Basil Sands (books to read as a couple TXT) 📗

tail wagging, looking up at him, the dog’s expression seemingly in expectation of something fun. The dog caught the sound or scent of the intruders and turned, letting out a warning bark.

“Closeenough,Mojo,” Kharzai said. “Imighthaveabomb.”

Marcushesitated.Kharzai’shandswereoutofsight,hiddenwithinthe floweryburstofcoloraroundhim.

“Stopthereandyou'lllive,” Kharzaisaid. “Anycloser,and … noguarantees.”

HelookedtowardMike who was stalking up from the bushes on his right. “Youtoo,preacherman.Don’tneedyourdeathonmyconsciencetoo—that’d probablylosemesomeseriousscore upstairs.Ofcourse,thatmaybeamootpointnow.”

Hehadanoddlookonhisface.Marcusrememberedhimasbeingunrealisticallyhappyallthetime.Nowhelookedtired,wornout,likehewasdyinginside—maybe had already died.

“Whosesideareyouon,Kharzai?” Marcus asked.

“Mine,” hereplied,hisvoicetingedwithdarkemotion. “I'mdonewiththewholeUSAvs.theworldthing.We'renobetterthananyoneelse,andI'mnotplayinganymore.”

“Look,weknowyouhelpedussetupFarrah,” Mike said. “Itwasyouwho booby-trappedthose mortars,wasn'tit? I heard them explode, no mistaking what it was.”

“Youwon'tbeintrouble,” Marcus said. “Justturnyourselfin.”

“Youdon'tgetit,doyou,Mojo,” Kharzai said,raisinghisvoice. “Ireallyamfinished.Done.Desisted,valmiiden,gotowy,gesz,färdigt,fini,kaput.TelltheboysattheCompanythattheyneedtoforgetme,forever.”

“Why?” Mike asked.

“Why?” Kharzai said,exasperationcracklingaroundtheword. He looked down at Deano, whose mouth opened with an innocently loving pant at the eye contact. “Why,hesays.” Hegrabbedhandfulsofhishair in frustration, “Why?Becausetheykilledmywife!That'swhy!”

Heturnedtowardtheravinebehindhim.Handsonhiships,hetookadeepbreath,likeanOlympicdiverabouttotakeaplunge.Heabruptlyswiveledbackaround,gesticulatingwithhisarms.

“Theycouldhavewaitedtenmoreminutes.Itwouldnothavemadeadifferenceforthetarget.Itoldthemtowait,butno—they sentin thedronewhilemywifewasinthelineoffireandtheyblewmybeautifulyoungLeilatopiecesinfrontofmy eyes!” Hisvoicecrackedatthelastwords.Hewiped clumsilyat tearsandcontinued, “That'swhyIamdone.” He pounded the air with each individual syllable.

Neithermanhadanythingtosay.BothMarcusandMikesuddenlypicturedthemselvesinthesamesituation.Theypicturedtheirown wives in jeopardy because of their jobs, their life choices.Marcusfeltapangofguiltforleaving hispregnantwifeonthesidewalktochasethismanwhohadlosthisownbeloved.

“Shewastheonlygoodthinginmylife,” Kharzaicontinued, his voice breaking against waves of emotion. “Theonlypersonwholovedmeforreal,andneitherfearedmenorwantedtouseme.Shewastheonlythingthatkeptmesane,andtheytookherfromme.They'reluckyIdidnotletFarrahandhisgoonsgothroughwitheverything.” Hepaused,hisvoicedroppingjustaboveawhisper. “Icameclose,though,I'lltellyouthatlittletidbitoftruth.Itwastempting.Ialmostlostcontrolthereattheend.”

Kharzaihalfturnedtotheravine,lookingacrosstotheendlessexpanseofwildernessbeyond.HeglanceddowntoShipCreek,afifteen-hundred-footdroptotheboulder-strewnwater,asparsehandfulofgnarlysprucetreestwistedoutoftherock,graspingtheair. Tenfeetbelowthetop,asinglenarrowledgejuttedlessthantwofeetfromthewall—beyond that,onlythebarelyslopingrockfacetoslowthedescent.HeturnedbacktoMarcus,hisfacenowcalm.

“Ididn'twanttokillanyinnocentpeople. I…I just wanted to let themknowthatIcangetascloseasIwanttowhatevertheythinkisimportant.Justtoletthemknownottocomeafterme.”

Kharzaiglancedquicklydownintotheravine,thenfacedthem again, glancingfromMarcustoMikeandbackagain.

“Letthemknowthattheyneedtoleavemealone.Don'tsearchformybody—don’t trytogivemeadecentburial.Justletmedieandbegone.” Hetwistedhisneckfrom sidetoside,poppingkinksoutofitasiflimberingupforthedive. “Butiftheycometofindme,Iwillhauntthem—everyone IcanrememberfromtheCIA, from the military, from the White House. Myghostwillhuntthemdownandliveintheirnightmares,andintimeIwillkillthemall.”

Beforeeitherofthemcouldsayanythinginresponse,Kharzaiturnedandsteppedoffthecliff,instantlydisappearingovertheedge. Deano let out a desperately sad yelp, shocked by his adopted master's leap to certain death. Mike and Marcus ran toward the edge of the cliff, Deano barking at them angrily then turning and whining as if begging them to help. They hesitated, then warily scooted past the dog, turned and peered over the precipice.

Bothmenreachedtheedge of the cliff and looked over intimetoseeKharzai’sbodyslamagainstalarge,sharp-edgedboulderamongthefast-movingrapids,theheadtwistedatawildangle,neckobviouslybroken.Abriefcloudofredcoloredthewhitewaterthatswirledaroundtherocks,quicklydissipatingasthetorrentsweptawaythemangledbody.

The animal peered over the edge, sniffed the air, and let out a whine then sat on his haunches staring down into the chasm.

Chapter32

Arctic Valley

12 miles east of Anchorage

Friday,June24th

11:19 a.m

Astheysteppedontotheroadwheretheyleftthetruck,Mike’scellphonerang.Heanswered.

“Honey, tellMarcustogetbacktotown.” Hilde’svoicewasshaking. “Lonnie’sinthehospital.”

“Issheokay?”

TheworriedsoundofMike’svoiceshockedMarcus. His heartdroppedinhischest with the knowledge that theyweretalkingabouthiswife.

“Okay?Ofcourse,” Hilde said, “but she's in labor. Thebaby’scoming.Ifhehurries,hemightgettheretoseeitcomeout.”

***

Lonniegripped the plastic sides of on the hospital bed, her face glistening with great drops of sweat.Wave after wave of pain unlike anything she’d ever imagined ripped through her, like she was being split open from the center.  The nurse coached her to push, then breath, then push again. The delivery room door flew open and Marcus stepped in, breathless, still tying the blue hospital gown around his body. Lonnie tried to speak, but her breath caught and her eyes bulged as the splitting sensation crashed over her body again. Marcus reached for her hand but she couldn’t see him, blinded by the force of the pain.

The doctor motioned Marcus to the foot of the bed.  He stepped around and his heart caught in his throat as he watched a mass of thick black hair materialize from within his wife’s body.  Then suddenly, Lonnie let out a scream, anda purple jumble of body and limbs slipped free from the birth canal and plopped into the doctor’s hands.

A nurse handed Marcus a pair of scissors. He stared at the implement in confusion and looked up at his wife where she lay panting on the bed,blinking away the exhaustion, a smile on her face as she looked up at her husband and nodded. He still didn’t know what was going on, so he turned back to the nurse. She pointed to the baby in the doctor’s hands.

“The umbilical cord, sir. Use the scissors to cut it.”

He looked down at the baby. “It won’t hurt it?”

The nurse smiled and corrected, “Not ‘it,’ Mr Johnson, him. And no, it won’t hurt him.”

Marcus reached down to the length of umbilical cord the doctor had clamped off. He snipped it, and the doctor tied a knot in the end then handed the tiny boy to the nurse. She dried him with a soft warm blanket and immediately crossed back to the bed and placed the naked child on Lonnie’s chest.

Lonnie let out a sound like she was drawing up extra strength, then pulled her arms up and wrapped them around the tiny boy. Seven and half pounds of pure joy snuggled to her, mouth opening, neck craning, searching instinctively for the breast. He found his target and latched on, letting out a soft, happy whimper as he experienced the taste of the first milk from his mother.

Ten minutes later, Lonnie passed into a deep sleep. The nurse took the baby from her arms and wrapped him tightly in a blanket. She handed the child to Marcus. He stared into the baby’s placid face. The child’s eyes roved, searching, curiosity brimming as he seemed to be trying to understand this new world. The tiny bundle squirmed gently against his bonds.

“Hello, my son. Welcome to the world.”

The infant stopped scanning and locked his gaze onto Marcus at the sound of his voice. Peace seemed to flow from the boy. Tears welled up in Marcus’s eyes and dripped down his cheeks. One splashed onto the baby’s forehead. He blinked and Marcus leaned down, kissing the infinitely tender new skin.

He squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a prayer. “Heavenly Father, thank you. May this boy live in peace, and make him strong.”

Chapter 33

Arctic Valley

12 miles east of Anchorage

Friday,June24th

11:36 a.m

Kharzaisatinthesmallcave,invisiblefromthecliff'sedge. He remained motionless untilheheardMarcusandMikeleave.Helistenedquietly,unmoving,forthirtyminutes.Then,workingonthefaiththattheywouldgivehimtimebeforethepolicearrived,hestrappedthebackpacktohisbody,clamberedoutofthehole,andstoodonthenarrowledgebeneaththecave.Heglanceddownthesteepdrop and sawtherockonwhichthecrashtestdummyhadsmasheditshead.Ithadbeenaclosecall, closer than he’d anticipated. Henearlymissedtheledge,andbarelygotthedummyoutofthecavebeforeMarcuslookedovertheedge.

Hegrabbedholdofthegnarledsprucelimbjuttingfromtherockwallandhoistedhimselfupcautiously. Crouching at the edge of the cliff, helookedaround,makingsurenocopsorFBIwerewaitinginambush.  Deano bounded over to him and excitedly licked his face.

“Okay, okay,” Kharzai said. “Let's go before anyone comes looking for me.”

They scurriedoff, following the trail Mike and Marcus had made through the weeds so as not to create fresh tracks,andmade their waytothehikers’bridgehalfamileuptheroad. His backpack wasfilledwithjustenoughsuppliestogethimto take care of them for a few days until he could get into atownforresupply.

Atthebridge,hemetagroupofyoungwomeninshortsandmatching pink T-shirts,smallpink packsstrappedtotheirshoulders and ridinghighontheirbacks.College sororitygirlsoutforadayhike.Hesmiled,spreadinghistrademarkwidetoothygrin,hisbrightwhiteteethglowingagainsthis darktanandtheblacknessofhisbeard.

“Howdy,ladies,” hesaid,aflirtyliltinhisvoice. “Where'sthenearestStarbucks?”

Theygiggledandhechattedwiththemforonlyamoment,takingaquicksnapshotwiththegroupbeforewalkingoffintothewilderness. He watched as the pretty twenty-somethings walked away, one turning to back to look at him, making eye contact, her smile inviting him to meet again. For a moment, the briefest space of time, she was Leila. The girl turned back to her friends and they moved out of sight around a bend. His smilefaded as he started back down the trail, Deano at his side.

“Andnow,wedisappear.”

About the Author

Authoring action packed novels and short stories, Basil has built an audience of tens of thousands to his eBooks and audiobooks.

The tapestry on which his tales began started at