ANA Reborn by Carl Facciponte - HTML preview
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Chapter 22
o, I’m meeting with you, Mr. Bahar. What is it S “ that is so important you wanted to meet outside of my regular ‘inspections’?” Ana and Rhett sat quietly in the back of the jeep as Lance talked to Jad Bahar, a heroin poppy grower, outside of his dusty, modest home sitting on the outskirts of Lashkar Gah.
Jad looked at the passengers, shook his head, and gestured up and to the side with his bearded chin.
Lance replied, “No, those two stay with me.”
“But, General, this is very private information, for your ears only. It is a hot afternoon. Perhaps the sergeants would like to spend a few minutes in our local restaurant down the street where base servicemen often go. We can sit in the jeep by the front door to talk there if you are more comfortable.”
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After some thought, Lance nodded his head, and Jad directed him to the bar. “Okay, you two jump out, but stay close to the door just in case there is another plan going on here.”
“Yes, Sir,” both Rhett and Ana responded.
“We’ll get out of earshot, but keep our eyes on you,” Rhett said.
They jumped out and entered the unpainted wooden building. An ancient wooden sign above the door read, “American Food.” Rhett looked around. It was empty except for a lone waiter seated behind the coffee and juice bar.
“They sure set this place up for servicemen only. Everything is in English; posters of Hollywood stars, neon ‘Beer’ and ‘Whiskey’ signs, even though they can’t legally sell them.
Everything.”
“That makes sense,” Ana said. “Tell you what, I’ll keep an eye on Lance, and you monitor the back door.”
The waiter started to say something to them, but Rhett pursed his lips and shook his head to cut the conversation off. The waiter shrugged and went back to reading his newspaper.
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Lance turned to Jad in the jeep. “Okay, so we are alone. What do you want to say?”
“General,” Jad said, “my family is poor.
Farming in this area is a good path if you want to starve to death.”
“True,” Lance said. “It’s not an Iowa cornfield for sure.”
“I don’t understand,” Bahar replied.
“It’s not important. Keep talking.”
“Okay. This is why I grow poppies in some of my fields. The money from the black tar supports my family.”
Lance nodded his head. “Go on, I’m listening.”
Jad shifted nervously in his seat. “I know you have arranged to receive money from those who are in charge of the heroin business in this area for not ordering your soldiers to cause us any trouble.”
“Where did you hear this crap?” Lance hissed, his eyes narrowing, boring through Jad.
The color drained from Bahar’s face. He swallowed hard and continued, “The drug money you receive is, what is your expression, 185
pocket change to you? But for my wife and my son, it is a great deal of money. The poppy crop this year is not very big. My share will be smaller.
It will be hard for us to survive.”
“What does any of that have to do with me?”
Lance menaced.
The resolution to finish what he had started brought some color back to Jad’s face. I have proof from the trading house you came to Afghanistan to profit from the heroin trade. I have a relative in New York in America that can contact the Army and tell them all about what you are doing.”
“And who would that relative be?” asked Lance.
“Nobody. He is just a taxicab driver.”
“You didn’t want to talk to me just to tell me about a cab driver. Get to your point!”
“General, it would help my family if you share some of your profit back to me. I need little, perhaps five percent of what you get, for my silence.”
The veins threatened to burst on Lance’s forehead. His voice lowered in pitch but raised in 186
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volume. “You shitty little bastard! You’re threatening to blackmail me! You #$@&%*! rag-head! Get out right now!” He reached over with his right arm and began pushing Jad out of the vehicle. “Get out!,” he bellowed.
Hearing the commotion, Ana and Rhett rushed out of the restaurant.
“What’s going on?” Rhett asked, looking at Jad, struggling to get clear of the jeep and out of Lance’s reach. Ana assumed a provisional battle stance and glanced around to identify any parties who might join the fray.
“It’s nothing,” Lance snarled. “Get in, and let’s get back to the base. This is a damn country full of damn crooks!”
What happened? Ana wi-fi’d to Rhett.
I don’t know, but I’ve never heard of Lance losing his temper like that. But, whatever it was, I wouldn’t want to be Mr. Bahar.
Although his jaw muscles knotted and unknotted for the entire trip, Lance remained silent except for a barely audible thought which escaped, but was covered by the road noise.
“Add one more to the terrorist list,” he muttered.
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...
Ana and Rhett met with Ralph in the mess hall that night. They built it to accommodate up to 200
enlisted men and women, although there were now fewer than 100 people on the entire base.
The three sat alone at a table in the gray dining area.
“So, I hear Lance really blew up today. I’ve never known him to do that. What happened?”
asked Ralph.
“I’d never seen anything like it either,” said Rhett. “We couldn’t pick up on what they were talking about, but when the shouting started, Lance looked positively murderous.”
Ana wrinkled her brow. “Ralph, I’m not buying the story about what Lance is doing here.
What have you been able to find out from your talking to people on the base? Are the men and officers here really on the take?”
Ralph hesitated for a moment, “I hate to say it, but yeah, some of my Army brothers and sisters are on the take.”
“How many?” asked Ana.
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Ralph shook his head, “I’m not sure, but it looks like almost everyone from sergeant on up is involved to some degree.”
Rhett gestured toward Ralph. “Are we talking about a lot of money here? Do you have a feel for how much cash is changing hands?”
“It doesn’t seem like much, Rhett. Only enough to bribe the government guys to let alcohol into the area and the base. Maybe a little more for general spending cash. Not too much, though.”
“Enough graft to get a General involved to help clean up the mess and bring charges to the officers?” asked Rhett.
“Nope. Not even close.”
Rhett looked at Ana. “I was afraid of that, she said. “The official narrative made little sense.
That can only mean one thing.”
“Which is what?” Ralph encouraged.
“Lance didn’t come over to save your hide. He said he would accuse the officers of grafting himself since he outranked them and it would protect you from backlash. That’s all BS. The only 189
thing which makes sense is if Lance is here to help himself to a bigger slice of the drug pie.”
“And we’re here to protect him if his plans go south?” asked Rhett.
“Sure looks that way. Instead of a small company for protection, which would attract attention and generate questions, he has us.”
“Sneaky bastard,” said Ralph. “Now I see why he offered me a promotion if I did a good job training the troops. He just wanted me to gather intel and give him an excuse to come over here.”
Ana formed a tent with her hands in front of her mouth for a moment. Then, moving them back to the table, she asked, “What’s our next move”?
Rhett shook his head again. “Nothing for now.
We don’t have a lot to go on. Ralph, do you think you could get any dope on the General from the Afghan troops when you train them? They mix with people in the town and may know something.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see what I can find out.
Until then, let’s grab something to eat. I’m hungry, and they have SOS tonight,” said Ralph.
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“SOS?” asked Rhett, furrowing his brow.
“It’s chipped-beef in a white sauce served on toast. Please don’t ask what SOS means, though,”
Ralph laughed. “but try it; you’ll like it.”
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