Gravedigger by Mark Terry Read Free Book Online Page B

translated. Khan’s dark eyes bore through her. When she was done, he said, “Why did you come to this village?”
    She hesitated, looking at Johnston. She understood he was being careful. They didn’t know exactly how dangerous these men were, although they suspected they were very dangerous. And Derek was still out and about. They didn’t want Khan and his people to know about him. If things got worse, maybe Stillwater could bail them out. She had read his file and knew he was a capable soldier, but his CIA record indicated questionable judgment. On the other hand, he had crossed the Straits of Florida from Cuba to the United States in a kayak during a storm and survived. The man had survival skills, if nothing else.
    Johnston explained that they had been at another village and been told rumors about many mysterious deaths here. They decided to investigate.
    Leaning over her, Khan had said, “How many of you are there?”
    “Just the two of us.”
    He hit her. Johnston tried to put himself between them, and received a kick in the ribs for his efforts.
    “My men tell me there are three. Who is the third person?”
    Johnston shook his head. “There are only two of us.”
    Khan glared at them. He walked away, looking at the crates stocked at the back of the cave, which was more of a shallow depression in the cliff than a real cavern. He turned and studied the Range Rover, then looked at the horses.
    Khan waved over one of his men, presumably a lieutenant or deputy. “Load as much of the shipment onto the truck as we can. You and I will take it to Shing Dun tonight.”
    The mujahideen leader walked back toward Johnston and Noa. He said, “Did you contact anyone? Tell them you were coming here? I see you have a satellite phone.”
    Johnston said, “Yes. I told my people at headquarters we were coming here and why.”
    Khan punched Johnston in the side of the head. He went down hard in the dirt. Khan spit on him and walked away.

    “Ouch,” Derek said, flinching.
    “Don’t be such a wimp,” Noa said. “I’ve put a couple stitches in there. And take some antibiotics. Might as well if we’re going to be digging in a mass grave.”
    Derek, crouching nude close to the fire, shook his head. “Not ‘we.’ Just ‘me.’ You and Jim have something else to do. Right?”
    Johnston had looked through the remaining couple crates. “I’m afraid so. Besides, we’re at least fifty miles from the nearest village.”
    “We need to go to Shing Dun,” Noa said, bandaging Derek’s shoulder.
    Derek stood up and donned the dry clothing. He took an antibiotic from the first aid kit and swallowed it with a gulp of water. “So,” he said. “The other shoe is about to drop.”
    “These are Russian RPGs,” Johnston said. “And it seems that Khan and his people have been scrounging them and selling them to some people in Shing Dun.”
    “And we need to go there and, what? Stop this? Prove this?” Now dressed like a mujahideen, Derek crouched back by the fire, staring into the flames.
    “We don’t want them to get into the wrong hands,” Noa said. “And we’re not sure that the crates only held RPGs. There may have been nerve agents or other things.”
    Derek sighed. He glanced sideways at Johnston. “Part of your mission, too?”
    He shrugged.
    “Tell me what else happened. Then I’ve got to go dig up some bodies.”

    After Khan and his lieutenant left, for the most part the muj had gone about their business. Several of the men had been told to go back to their guard duties. They had grumbled and complained – the weather was terrible. But they went. Four remained in the encampment. Two of them kept watch over Johnston and Noa. Johnston and Noa moved so they were sitting next to each other, their backs to the cavern wall.
    Johnston murmured, “You took a hell of a hit. Are you okay?”
    “I’ll live. What about you?”
    “The kick might’ve broken a rib or two. I’ve been down that road before. I’ll