Page 46 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)

THIRTY-SIX

Kabul, Afghanistan

A tremor went through the room, startling Rhys.

The bed had moved several inches away from the wall, and the entire room shivered violently before the lights flickered off and on several times, and then went completely out.

Rhys jumped to his feet, wondering if there was an earthquake.

It was only when he yanked the earbuds out of his ears that he heard the screaming and the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.

He grabbed his wallet and mobile and raced downstairs. The foyer was crowded, and several people peered anxiously through the glass doors, or what was left of them.

“What happened?” Rhys asked an employee who stood calmly behind the reception desk, looking on with interest.

“There was a suicide bombing nearby,” he replied, his tone as casual as if he were telling Rhys it had started to rain and he should take an umbrella.

Rhys stepped away from reception and looked around, unsure what to do next.

Remaining in the foyer seemed pointless and, in this instance, there was no safety in numbers, but his lonely room didn’t beckon, so he remained downstairs, taking the opportunity to chat with a few people he knew.

After a time, the group of reporters adjourned to the hotel restaurant and ordered a round of drinks.

Ahmad set a glass of red wine before Rhys, his eyes anxious. “You find your friend?” he asked softly.

“Not yet. How’s Ali? ”

“Same.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rhys replied.

Ahmad didn’t answer but went on to take orders at the next table. The restaurant was doing brisk business in the wake of the bombing.

“This is retribution for the six militants who were captured in Nangarhar Province this week,” said a reporter whose name Rhys didn’t know. “They’re responsible for the 2014 school massacre in Peshawar.”

“How would you know?” asked an American reporter named Deborah Carter. “There are suicide bombings nearly every day. Are they all retribution for some specific act?”

“This bomber managed to get into the center of the city despite all the checkpoints. He must have had a network of operatives to rely on, unlike the amateurs who use homemade explosives and detonate themselves anywhere they find a large gathering of people.”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t wait to get out of this shithole,” Deborah exclaimed. “I miss my kids.”

“Worst assignment ever,” someone from the next table said. “After this, I’ll happily cover dog shows and bakeoffs. Hey, waiter, bring another round of beers.”

Rhys tossed a bill on the table and left the restaurant, walking toward the internet café.

While everyone was busy discussing the bombing, there’d be free stations.

He only hoped the explosion hadn’t disrupted internet service.

He logged on and searched for a flight home.

He would try to leave by the weekend. He still hadn’t heard back from anyone at Camp Eggers and didn’t really expect to.

General Hewitt had probably forgotten all about him, just as he’d forgotten about Jo Turing.

Rhys was just about to book a flight when his mobile vibrated in his back pocket .

“Yes?” He hadn’t meant to sound brusque, but he was tired, frustrated, and scared out of his wits.

The pulsating pain in his stomach and lower back reminded him every minute that he was lucky to be alive, and despite his failure to find Jo, his conscience was clear.

He’d done everything in his power. It was time to go home.

“Mr. Morgan, it’s General Hewitt.”

Rhys sat up straighter, stunned the general had called him in person.

“I did say I would call,” the man said, as though taken aback by Rhys’s silence.

“I’m grateful, General. Have you any news?” Rhys felt his chest tighten as he waited for Hewitt to speak. He wasn’t calling with good news—Rhys could tell from the tone of his voice and the lengthy pause. “General?”

“You were right, Mr. Morgan. Several American troops came across a burned-out vehicle on their way back to base on December sixteenth. They’d heard the explosion and assumed there would be casualties.

They found the young man close to the site of the explosion.

It was a crude device that wasn’t nearly as deadly as a landmine, but still powerful enough to cause grievous injury.

The young man was unconscious. He’d lost a leg, as you already know.

They found the woman about fifteen feet away from the vehicle.

She must have been thrown clear when the explosion went off. She was still alive.”

“Where is she?” Rhys cried. “Where did they take her?”

“Mr. Morgan, when the IED exploded, the woman’s bag caught fire and the contents perished.

She had no identification, and the memory card in her camera had melted.

The young man didn’t have any identification on him either.

Our boys had no idea who she was, so she was referred to simply as Jane Doe.

They brought her back to base for an evaluation by our medical staff.

Subdural hematoma, I’m told, as well as some other non-life-threatening injuries.

Since Jane Doe was a civilian and we had no way to contact her next of kin, we flew her out to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany.

It’s located a few miles from Ramstein Air Base. ”

“Why was no one notified? Surely you had the resources to find out who she was.”

“Mr. Morgan, as you know by now, we have a lot on our plate right here in Kabul. I gather you heard the explosion a few minutes ago. The bomber detonated very close to your hotel.”

“Yes, I heard the explosion.” And felt it as well , Rhys thought angrily.

“Perhaps someone in Germany has been working to identify your friend, but as far as I know, you’re the only one who’s come looking.”

“Will they let me in to see her?” Rhys asked. He could hardly just waltz into an American military medical facility and demand to see Jane Doe.

“There’s a flight leaving for Ramstein tomorrow afternoon. You can be on it. You will be provided with the necessary travel documents, and someone will meet you once you get to the medical center. I’m afraid that’s all I can do.”

“That’s more than enough, General. Thank you. I’m very grateful.”

“Someone will be in touch. Good day to you.”

Rhys disconnected the call. Jo was alive, and she was at one of the best facilities in the world. General Hewitt had said nothing about her current condition, but Rhys was optimistic. He stared at the phone, wondering if he should call Quinn.