A low guttural growl that betrayed his relaxed posture escaped Tom’s mouth. His eyes intent on Amadulah, he waited for the utterance that would set off his anger. Mike held his hand out. He knew Tom. This betrayal was brutal to listen to and harder to accept. But, he would be the one to exact justice, his justice.

Captain Amadulah heard the threat but kept his eyes on Mike. “It was deception by silence, but the situation wasn’t as clear cut as you think. It wasn’t as simple as right or wrong. Things sometimes are never as they seem.”

Mike leaned in, caught himself, and took a step back. “I don’t know what any of that means, and I don’t care.’ His voice trembled. “You knew we were going into an ambush, to our deaths, if the enemy had been better. And you talk about things that aren’t what they seem? It seems that good people died, and you could have stopped it. We wouldn’t have gone if we’d known what was waiting for us.”

Amadulah shifted his gaze to his hands. “Yes.” It was almost a whisper. Everyone leaned in to hear. “You would have gone.” It was simple, short, and to the point.

Anger flushed through him, anger at himself for being contradicted and because Amadulah was right. In combat, Mike was super aggressive and never stopped. On any mission he participated in, in the end, the enemy would be dead, captured, or have run away to parts unknown. It was a trait he had inspired in his Team. Had he been played in some way back then?

“You remember my youngest son, Ahmad?” Captain Amadulah turned to the window and smiled. “He was full of life, as they all are at that age. He was funny and smart, already speaking to you in English as I taught him.” He wiped under the lens of his glasses. He turned and addressed them with red eyes. “The week before your last visit, a man from my past came to my house. He had been a Mujahideen fighter alongside me during the war. Later, we learned he was also working with the Pakistanis, the Chinese, and, we believe, the Russians. Before we could confront him, he was, we thought, killed in a Russian air raid. We never furthered the investigation because we thought he was dead. After the war, he changed his name.” Amadulah snorted. “He joined the Taliban not because he believed in their cause but to gain influence and power. When he arrived here at my home, he was a major leader in the drug trade to the north and east. I didn’t like him, and he didn’t like me, but hospitality is our way, and I treated him with respect and friendship.”

“Father,” Farid said. “I don’t remember this.”

“As soon as the man arrived, I sent you and your brothers and sister downriver. You were to investigate a feud between several of our farmers. We couldn't find your brother, Ahmad, so you went without him. You remember that is the day Ahmad disappeared?”

Farid and Niki nodded.

“When we got there,” Farid said, “the farmers knew of no feud.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Yes. You couldn’t find him because Ahmad decided it would be fun to spy on my guest and I. Ahmad was found out like all little boys who play hide and seek.” Amadulah looked out the window, a shallow sigh coming from his nose. “He couldn’t stop giggling.”

Niki touched his leg. Amadulah’s head moved back and forth, and she took her hand away.

“Our business concluded. My guest left. I didn’t follow him out. It was a breach of hospitality not to take him to my door, and for my disobedience, God cursed me. The man’s business I knew well. It spoke of betrayal and murder. He wanted a type of partnership. I wouldn’t stand for his method of business. He decided to ensure my help and silence. Unknown to me, his men in the courtyard had subdued my guards and disabled my trucks.” Amadulah put his hand to his face. “So many times I have run this through my mind. If only I had gone out with him. I could have stopped him from kidnaping Ahmad.”

Captain Amadulah jostled the pillows behind him and sat up. “Ultimately, I had to agree to send men to the Tal Bez Valley as my old comrade instructed. But I commanded them to leave when the fighting started and look for Ahmad.” He faced Mike and Tom. “The day you came to my compound, all I had to do was not tell you what was in the Tal Bez. That is where, in my desperation, I tried to prevent you from going by offering my daughter to you in marriage. I knew you wouldn’t accept. But I hoped you would play along since I had mentioned the Taliban fighters I invited. You could capture them as a wedding present.” He drew in a rattling breath. “It was stupid of me. I should have told you everything then, but I didn’t.”

The scowl dropped from Tom’s face.

Julia and Al glanced at each other they hadn’t been there and didn’t fully understand the dynamics of emotions between the others, but a kidnapped child was enough for them to feel sympathy for the old man.

The Captain’s children sat, leaving Mike the only one standing. He wasn’t going to sit, not in this house.

“A few of my men who went to the Tal Bez escaped. They saw what was coming. They’d die by your hand or the hand of the men who watched them to ensure they fought. They managed to kill some of their guards and tried to leave before anyone could stop them. Your bombs killed some of them. The rest were executed when they tried to disengage from the fight. One man he let live to give me a message.”

He looked at his children. “The truth I withheld was all for nothing. The anguish I felt for Ahmad.” He looked up at Mike. “The torment of not telling you the truth was all replaced by more sorrow. When my man returned, he delivered the news of my soldiers and the saddest news possible. Soon after leaving my home, they slit Ahmad’s throat and buried him in a shallow grave about a mile from here, just off the side of the road.”

Mike looked down at his fists. He unclenched them and put his hands in his pockets. Ahmad. He’d been smart and funny. Mike looked at the floor. The kid would do anything for Mike. The boy would get him tea, something to eat, Ahmad would tell him eight-year-old secrets that no one else knew, not even his father. For whatever reason, the boy idolized Mike, and Mike had felt a kinship with him that went beyond blood. Mike had taught him how to read a map and even gave him a compass as a birthday gift. He swore to the rest of the team that Ahmad was better at land navigation than some of the soldiers in his Ranger Class. He’d even called back to the States and talked to his soon-to-be ex-wife about inviting Ahmad into their home. The boy would soon be ready to travel to the West for his private schooling.

Mike sat down. “You are not forgiven.”