Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 148, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 900 & 901, September/October 2016

But that’s exactly what I did.

Brian was staring at me now. “And then you just... bailed out. You scrambled back into the Hummer, and... left us there.”

“The jihadis were targeting the vehicle, Brian. I took it down the road to draw them off. And it worked. They came after me.”

“But you never came back,” Brian said.

“They dogged me for ten miles, man. Five guys in a pickup, blasting away with AKs. I couldn’t shake ’em, couldn’t even shoot back. Then, maybe a mile from Khalid’s compound, they rammed me on a blind curve, and we all went crashing down the mountain. I was lucky. I got roughed up some, but I lived. The jihadis didn’t. They were scattered down the mountainside like rag dolls. The Hummer blew up, burned down to the frame. So I grabbed a weapon and hoofed it overland to Khalid’s...” I broke off, remembering.

“What happened?” he asked.

“A raid,” I said. “A dozen Taliban had overrun the place, probably the day before. And at the end, Khalid... He pulled the pin, Brian.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Brian said.

Peg was looking at us like we were speaking Swahili.

“Khalid’s stronghold was booby-trapped,” I explained. “Brian and I helped build the place, and we installed it ourselves. Khalid had a wall safe. Open it with the wrong combination, it released VX-11 nerve gas. One breath, you’re gone. Khalid was dead, the raiders were dead, even his guard dogs were dead,” I said. “He gassed the whole place.”

“But... what about his kids?” Brian asked.

“They were in his arms, man. They went together.”

“The man killed his own children?” Peg asked.

“He put them down,” I said grimly. “It was a kindness, something you’d do for a dog. Better than having them end up on a video getting their heads sawed off, or...” I stopped. Too late.

“Or left for dead in a ditch,” Brian finished, his eyes locking on mine. “Blown to hell. Like me.”

“I called in to the base,” I said. “They told me a medevac had already grabbed up you and Doc. I was ordered to hold until relieved. By the time I got back, you’d already been shipped out to Ramstein. I know I made mistakes, man, I should have handled it better. But that’s how it went down.”

“That was months ago,” Peg prompted.

“They asked me to escort Khalid’s body to France. His family’s in exile there. I could have said no, followed Brian to wherever, but... The truth is, I was glad to go.”

“Glad?” Peg echoed.

“After seeing my best friend... wrecked, then walking into that compound, littered with dead? I couldn’t do one more minute of madness, Peg. Not without losing it myself. So.” I took a ragged breath. “I took Khalid and his kids to Europe to his family. And they didn’t even have a funeral for ’em. They put their bodies in storage, like luggage, so they can all be buried in the homeland someday.”