Lethal Tribute

Spittle flew as General Hussain lost his English and began screaming so rapidly Bolan could no longer tell whether he was shrieking in Urdu or Sind.

Makhdoom clearly could understand. He stood like a rock but his cheek muscles flexed with tension as he was dressed down in ever-increasingly personal and inflammatory detail. The general gasped and stopped in midscream. He had to lean over and put both of his hands on his desk as he caught his breath from his outburst. He lifted his right hand after a moment and pointed an accusing finger at Bolan. “And you! You are—”

“Privileged to work with the officers under your command on a matter of mutual concern to my nation and our trusted friend, the Sovereign Republic of Pakistan,” Bolan finished.

Hussain blinked and then began to open his mouth.

Bolan beat him to the punch. “Is it the general’s pleasure to receive our report?”

“No! I do not wish to hear your bloody…” The general suddenly caught himself. “Yes! It is my pleasure to receive your report! Immediately!”

The general slammed his fat frame back down into his chair and glared at them in as menacing a fashion as he could muster. “I await! I am very interested! You have my undivided attention!”

Bolan swiftly sketched out the events in the Haji Pir Pass and everything that had happened subsequently at the Al-Nouri facility and then in Rawalpindi. He left nothing out other than his conversation with Kurtzman and exactly under what auspices of the United States government he was working for. Hussain’s facial expression slowly went from rage, to confusion, to disbelief to just a blank stare as Bolan finished. Hussain gazed off into space a moment, blinked, then turned his gaze to Makhdoom. The general’s head cocked slightly like a dog that has heard a noise it doesn’t understand. “Captain Makhdoom, do you agree with the facts of this report?”

“I do, General,” Makhdoom concurred. “All he says, I have seen with my own eyes and experienced personally.”

Hussain’s voice went flat. “You are saying our strategic nuclear weapons have been stolen by Hindu death worshipers who can turn themselves invisible?”

Makhdoom nodded once. “That is our current and best theory.”

“I do not believe I can have you shot for being insane, Captain, but given your other offenses—”

“General,” Bolan interrupted, “you have seen the videotape of the activity in the Al-Nouri facility when the weapons were stolen?”

“Of course.” Hussain shook his head. “But—”

“Other than djinns, General, how would you account for the disappearance of the weapons?”

“The videotape could have been doctored,” Hussain blustered, “or somehow overcome.”

“We also considered that possibility. However, in light of what happened in Rawalpindi we have reassessed the situation. We have come to grips with the enemy, and I assure you that we are dealing with far more than a doctored videotape. You also heard the radio transmissions from Musa Company during the battle in the pass?”

“You were attacked by invisible Hindu stranglers?” It was more than Hussain could deal with. “This is what you truly wish me to believe?”

Bolan pulled down the collar of his shirt and exposed the purple bruising mottling his throat. “Yes.”

Makhdoom pulled down his own collar. “The traitor, Atta Naqbi, is in the morgue. He bears similar marks, only he did not survive them.”

“Assuming I were to buy into this fantasy of yours, Captain, tell me why? Why would Hindu idol-worshipers do such a thing?”

“Why do idol-worshipers do anything?” Makhdoom shrugged. “Except to please their heathen gods.”

Bolan had a number of acquaintances around the world who worshiped idols, but he kept that to himself. “They have some sort of agenda, General. That is clear. They are also clearly well organized, funded and must have clandestine contacts high up within the Pakistani military.”

Hussain began to purple again with outrage.

Bolan cut off the general before he could detonate. “For that reason, Captain Makhdoom suggested that you were one of the few members of General Staff who can be trusted. He informs me that your service record and your loyalty to your country are unimpeachable.”

General Hussain ceased changing colors and relaxed back in his chair slightly.

This was an outright lie. Somehow, Hussain’s spies within the military had found out about Bolan’s and Makhdoom’s activities, and he had sent his own bodyguards to summon them to his offices. However, Bolan had decided to give Hussain a full report for the simple reason that the general was such a blustering egomaniac that whoever the enemy was, they would clearly not trust his involvement in stealing nuclear weapons.

Hussain made his first intelligent remark of the day. “Do you realize how insane this sounds?”

“I wouldn’t believe it myself, General, had I not seen and experienced what I had under Captain Makhdoom’s command.”

“This is all most unusual. I must admit I—”

“General, this is my suggestion. This conversation does not leave this room. Captain Makhdoom and I will coordinate our investigation through your offices. I will put you in contact with my superiors in the United States. If, indeed, members of the Pakistani High Command have been compromised, we must be able to present incontrovertible evidence to back up our accusations. When we have the proof we need, and the location of the stolen weapons, you will present the evidence to Military Command and the president.”

Hussain blinked at Bolan.

Makhdoom looked at Bolan as if he were insane.

“I…yes.” Hussain’s brows furrowed. “This is a matter of utmost security. The traitors must be ferreted out. Our stolen weapons must be located. We cannot afford incompetence. This effort shall be coordinated out of my offices and under my direct command.”

Makhdoom tried to keep the horror out of his voice. “General, I would like to assemble a picked team of men who I can—”

“No!” Hussain cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Nuclear weapons have been stolen, and it was clearly an inside job. Our enemy is unseen and has unknown contacts.” Hussain began reciting back Bolan’s report as if it were made up of his own experiences and opinions. He nodded to himself. “If we have traitors, they may well be members of the special forces.”

Makhdoom blanched but said nothing. “No, no members of Musa Company or the other special units. They often travel afar and who knows how they may have been corrupted.”

It was Makhdoom’s turn to start purpling.

Hussain was oblivious to Makhdoom’s outrage. “My service record and loyalty are unimpeachable. I choose my own men for the same reason. I will assemble you a team from among the most trusted men in my personal bodyguard.”

Makhdoom looked as though he wanted to shoot himself, if he didn’t shoot Bolan and General Hussain first.

“The contents of this meeting do not leave my office. Do not report back to your headquarters, Captain. Go home. The American will be under your supervision and will be your responsibility at all times. Report none of this to your superiors in special operations. I will contact you in the morning and we will begin our investigation properly.”

Hussain leaned back and steepled his fingers in deep thought. “You are dismissed.”

“YOU ARE INSANE! Do you know that?”

Bolan shrugged. Makhdoom had maintained a granite silence in the car ride all the way back to his house. He had stiffly asked his wife to make tea and bring refreshments. He had sat like a statue and watched Bolan drink a cup of tea and eat a piece of cake. Makhdoom had observed the laws of hospitality.

Then he had exploded.

“You are an idiot!”

Makhdoom’s wife, Zarah, was a lovely woman, and she looked on in horror as her husband screamed in rage at their guest.

“You turned our mission over to a man like Hussain?” The captain’s knuckles whitened as his hands clenched into fists. “Hussain is a cabbage! No! He is less than a cabbage! At least a cabbage can be boiled and eaten!”

He shook his fists at the ceiling. “Of what possible use is Hussain!”

Bolan was getting the impression that Makhdoom had had one or two run-ins with the general in the past.