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“You can’t say ‘Indian’ anymore.”
“Well, shit. How about ‘numbskull?’” Alexander said. “Does that offend any race, creed, or religion?”
“Creed and religion are the same thing.”
“No, they’re not,” Karina Ballentine said. “Creed is a set of beliefs, and religion is the worship of deities.”
“Actually, we prefer ‘cranially challenged’ to ‘numbskull.’”
“You’re personality-challenged, Paxton.”
“Will you people shut the fuck up!” Alexander yelled. “I feel like a goddamned kindergarten teacher.”
“Early childhood instructor.”
“Mentor of diminutive peeps.”
“Jesus Christ!” Alexander said.
“Now I’m offended.”
“More coming,” Kawalski said. “A bunch, and you better get out of the way. They’re in a hurry.”
Thirty people hurried past Alexander and the others. They were all dressed the same way; simple short tunics and no shoes. Their clothing was ragged and made of a gray, coarsely-woven cloth. A few of the people pulled oxen and goats along behind them. Some carried crude farm tools, and one woman carried an earthen pot filled with wooden kitchen utensils.
Alexander stepped out to grab an old man by the arm. “Who are you people, and what’s the hurry?”
The old man yelled and tried to pull away, but Alexander held tight.
“Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you.”
But the man was afraid; in fact, he was terrified. He kept glancing back over his shoulder, jabbering some words.
“What the hell language is that?” Alexander asked.
“Nothing I ever heard,” Lojab said as he cradled his M16 rifle and stood beside Alexander.
“Me either,” Joaquin said from the other side of Alexander.
The old man looked from one face to the next. He was obviously frightened by these strangers, but much more afraid of something behind him.
Several more people ran past, then the old man jerked his arm free and pulled his ox along, trying to get away.
“You want me to stop him, Sarge?” Lojab asked.
“No, let him get out of here before he has a heart attack.”
“His words were definitely not the Pashtun language.”
“Not Arabic either.”
“Or Urdu.”
“Urdu?”
“That’s what the Pacs speak,” Sharakova said. “And English. If they were Pakistani, they probably would have understood your English, Sarge.”
“Yeah.” Alexander watched the last of the people disappear along the trail. “That’s what I thought. And they’re too fair-skinned to be Pakistani.”
“Uh-oh,” Kawalski said.
“Now what?” Alexander asked.
“Elephants.”
“We’re definitely in India.”
“I doubt we were that far off course,” Alexander said.
“Well,” Kawalski said, “you might ask those two chick peeps where we are.”
“What two chicks?”
“On top of the elephants.”
Chapter Two
“Ninety percent of Indians speak English,” Ledbetter said.
“Hey, Apache,” Joaquin said, “Lead Butt said ‘Indians.’”
“That’s okay; they are Indians,” Eaglemoon said.
“Why not Native Asian Subcontinenters?”
Alexander shook his head. “We’re not in India. It’s probably a circus troupe.”
“Yeah? Well, they must have put on one hell of a show to scare the shit out of all those people.”
“Kawalski,” Alexander said, “are the two women armed?”
“Yeah.”
“With what?”
“Bows and arrows, and…”
Alexander glanced at Joaquin, who raised an eyebrow.
“And what, Kawalski?”
“Good looks. They are two HOT babes.”
“Kawalski thinks anything with breasts is hot,” Kady said on the comm.
“That’s strange, Sharakova; I never thought you were hot.”
“You’ve never seen me in a dress.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“How far away are they, Kawalski?” Alexander asked.
“Fifty yards.”
“For being elephants, they sure are quiet.”
“Probably walking on tiptoes.”
“Can it!” Alexander said. “Could be a trap. Be ready for anything.”
When the two elephants came abreast of Alexander, he didn’t see any signs of an ambush, and the two women didn’t look threatening. He stepped out from behind the tree and raised his hand in a friendly gesture.
“Hello.”
The woman nearest him uttered an exclamation.
“Maybe these people have never seen army helmets.”
Alexander took off his helmet and brushed a hand over his buzzcut. The two women looked at each other and said something he couldn’t understand.
“Now you’re really scaring them, Sarge,” Kawalski said. “Put it back on.”
“Very funny.”
The women looked down at Alexander but made no attempt to stop their animals. The first elephant was about seven feet tall at the shoulder, and the other three feet taller, with ears the size of the doors on an eighteen-wheeler. His rider was a slim young woman with auburn hair. The woman on the smaller animal was similar, but her hair was blonde. Both had some sort of emblem or mark on their faces.
A few yards ahead, Lojab came out of the brush. He removed his helmet and bowed low, then straightened and smiled at the blonde.
“Hello, madam. I seemed to have misplaced my Porsche. Can you direct me to the nearest McDonald’s?”
She smiled but said nothing. He watched her rock back and forth in an easy, fluid motion, perfectly synchronized with her elephant’s movements, like an erotic dance between woman and beast. Lojab walked along beside the animal but then found he had to jog to keep up.
“Where are you ladies headed? Maybe we could get together tonight for a beer, or two, or five.”
She spoke three or four words, but nothing he could understand. She then turned her attention back to the trail ahead.
“Okay.” He stopped in the middle of the trail and watched her reach to push a tree branch out of the way. “I’ll see you there, at about eight.”
“Lojab.” Karina came up to stand beside him. “You’re pathetic.”
“What do you mean? She said to meet her tonight at Joe’s Bar and Grill.”
“Yeah, right. What city? Kandahar? Karachi? New Delhi?”
“Did you see their tattoos?” Joaquin asked.
“Yeah, on their faces,” Kady said.
Joaquin nodded. “They looked like a devil’s pitchfork with a snake, or something like that.”
“Incoming elephant,” Kawalski said.
“Should we hide, Sarge?”
“Why bother?” Alexander said.
The third elephant was ridden by a young man. His long sandy hair was tied at the back of his neck with a length of leather. He was bare to the waist, his muscles well-toned. He looked at the soldiers, and just like the two women, he had a bow and quiver of arrows on his back.
“I’ll try a little Spanish lingo on him.” Karina removed her helmet. “Cómo se llama?”
The young man ignored her.
“A qué distancia está Kandahar?” She looked at Sergeant Alexander. “I asked him how far to Kandahar.”
The elephant handler spoke a few words, but they seemed to be directed more to his animal than Karina.
“What did he say, Karina?” Lojab asked.
“Oh, he couldn’t stop to talk right now. He had a dental appointment or something.”
“Yeah, right.”
“More elephants on the way,” Kawalski said.
“How many?”
“A whole herd. Thirty or more. You might want to get out of the way. They’re spread out.”
“All right,” Alexander said, “everybody get on this side of the trail. Let’s stick together.”
The platoon didn’t bother to hide as they watched the elephants go by. The animals ignored the soldiers as they grabbed tree branches with their trunks and chewed them while walking along. Some of the animals were ridden by mahouts, while others had handlers walking beside them. A few smaller elephants followed the herd, without anyone tending them. All of them stopped occasionally, pulling tufts of grass to eat.
“Hey, Sparks,” Alexander said.
“Yeah, Sarge?”
“Try to raise Kandahar on your radio.”
