His Woman in Command & Operations: Forbidden: His Woman in Command / Operation: Forbidden

“My youngest daughter, Atefa. Why do you ask?”

Gulping, Nike hoped she hadn’t made a fatal mistake by asking. “I…uh…she’s missing one leg. Did she step on a land mine?”

“Yes, as a four-year-old.” Jameela’s voice lowered with anguish as she pointed outside the village and to the east. “Afghan national soldiers laid land mines everywhere outside our village two years ago. They wanted to stop the Taliban from coming through our valley.” Choked anger was evident in her quiet tone.

“How did Atefa ever survive such a terrible injury?” Nike asked softly.

“Allah’s will,” Jameela murmured. “Everyone said she would die, but I did not believe it. Dr. Reza Khan and his sister, Sahar, found her near the road where it happened. They saved her life and brought her to the village in their Jeep. Then, we had Farzana, our wise woman, tend her with the antibiotics the doctor left. Also, Dr. Sahar knows much about herbs and she directed Farzana how to use them.”

“That’s an amazing story,” Nike said, her voice thick with unshed tears. People like the Sufi medical doctors inspired her. She’d never heard of Sufis or that they were Muslim. Nike decided she was very ignorant of Muslims in general. What if the Sufi doctors hadn’t been on the road driving by when Atefa had been injured? Nike watched as the child hobbled toward them on carved wooden crutches. “She’s so pretty, Jameela. What does her name mean?” Nike wondered.

“It means compassion in our language. Little did I know when my husband and I chose that name for her that she would, indeed, bring exactly that to our family and village. My husband wants her to go to a school in Pakistan when she’s old enough. He feels Allah has directed this because she was saved by Sufis.”

Atefa had dark brown, almond-shaped eyes; her black hair was long and drawn into a ponytail at the back of her head. She wore a black woolen dress that hung to her ankle; her foot was bare. To Nike, she looked like a poor street urchin. But then, as she scanned the street, she realized all the children shared in the same impoverished appearance as Atefa. The children were clean, their clothes were washed, their skin was scrubbed clean, their hair combed, but this was a very poor village.

“Maybe,” Nike told Jameela, briefly touching her arm for a moment, “there is something that might be done to help Atefa before she goes to her school.”

Chapter 4

“How are things going?” Gavin asked as Nike finished ensuring her helo was protected for the night. She’d just sent Andy into the village to grab a bite to eat at Abbas’s house before staying with the bird during the coming darkness.

She turned, surprised by Gavin’s nearness. The man walked as quietly as a cat, never heard until he wanted to be. His cheeks were ruddy in the closing twilight. “Doing okay.” She held up her gloved hands. “Today, I became ‘Dr. Nike’ to the women and children in the village.” She laughed. The look in his narrowed eyes sent her heart skipping beats. She stood with her back against the Chinook, for the metal plates still exuded the warmth of the sun from the April day.

“Yeah, Robles said you were doing fine. He’s proud that you can give vaccinations. You’re a fast study.”

Nike grinned. “I had to be! I wasn’t given a choice.”

The jagged mountain peaks became shadowed as the sun slid below the western horizon.

“From all accounts, old Abbas seems to be satisfied with our efforts.”

“Him.” Nike rolled her eyes. “That old man is married to a woman thirty years his junior!”

“That’s not uncommon out here,” Gavin said. “Wives die in childbirth and there’s no medical help to change the outcome. The man will always marry again.” He grimaced. “And let’s face it, there are many widows around and they need a man in order to survive out here.”

“Jameela said Abbas has had two other wives before her. Both died in childbirth.” Shaking her head, Nike muttered, “Things were bad in Peru, 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.