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Bad Business
We've met on the fourth floor in the crumbling back corner of the bombed-out building. Dusk settled on the horizon of Kabul. The city lay mostly in ruins, the city center left in shattered pieces, any hope for infrastructure left as little more than a dream. But Yunus hoped to change that. And with the man standing in front of him, he might really have a shot with the other freedom fighters of the United Liberation of Islamic Afghanistan.
The man, our contact, was out of place, to say the least: pink skin, unsullied white suit, and blond hair slicked back. He popped the buttons on his jacket with lean fingers, revealing a shirt as plainly white as the jacket.
All of that paled in light of his smile: broad, ceaseless, sharp-corned, like a knife. And the teeth - perfect, not a fleck of yellow, nary a thread of food caught between them.
The smile of a djinn: the devil.
The building groaned and shifted as the man lifted several cases up onto the table. I was quick to grab my weapon which hung lazily from the sling, yet, I could not bring it up at the ready; as if a - force is preventing me from doing what I was trained to do.
"This is not a safe place," Yunus said. Outside, the sun drifted downward, appearing to melt into a pool of searing magma as it crested the horizon. "The building. It may fall beneath our feet."
"Nonsense," the man said, still grinning. As if he enjoyed tempting fate, a chance I often played.
"Those are the weapons?" Yunus asked, pointing to the three cases.
"Tsk-tsk, don't eat your cake before it's your birthday," the man chided. "First, payment. Daddy needs to pay the rent, after all."
I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, and I looked on wondering; How this man could pay the rent with what we obtained... Perhaps, we will never know. Yunus however felt mad, doing business this way. Most people just wanted money. Or favors. Or guns in exchange for guns.
"C'mon, c'mon," the man urged. "Put up or shut up!"
"Yunus."
"Just pay the ******** piper and don't correct me."
Drawing a deep breath, Yunus paid the man with what he owed.
The tally was this: one paw from a saluki hound, a dozen shell casings from bullets that killed a widow, a lock of said dead widow's hair (flecked with dust and bits of brain), chips of stone from the Column of Knowledge and Ignorance, and a tooth from the mouth of each of Yunus' seven children.
The man slid two of the three cases toward Yunus, but placed his palm flat atop the third. Again, the building groaned and shuddered.
Still smiling, he said: "I don't see anything from Warlord Rahshid, here. No spit. No nail clippings, no tuft of that beard. You holding out?"
"It is impossible to get close to him, I cannot!" With all honesty, it is true. Obtaining the items in which we have given already sapped the moral aspect of our beings. The Warlord however, if we were to commit ourselves to the task, we could have been found out, especially with me. Ties would reach critical tensions between the ULIA and the US, and poor Yunus... He and his family as a whole will no longer be of this world.
"Cannot isn't in my vocabulary, Yunus. Fine. I keep the third case. And it's a good case, too. These first two? Some experimental stuff in there, granted. Want to kill the Taliban? Do the job the American lackwits aren't doing? You'll kill a few. But it's a shame. This third case, here? Could've given you the edge. A permanent edge. Your loss. I'm sure the ichiban Taliban will be glad to buy it."
"But -"
"No buts. This was time sensitive: Deal's over, chief."
Having enough of this guy's insults, I knew what I must do. This man came alone, and he was unarmed. I finally felt the release of the mysterious force that held me back earlier and I readied my M4 and fired three shots-
-into open air. The man was gone. Two cases remained. The third had disappeared, as well. Yunus blinked. I felt woozy.
Then we saw the sun coming up outside. Morning? Impossible!
The building shuddered again. Feeling sick and dizzy, I watched Yunus grabbed the two cases and fled, leaving me behind as I succumbed to the uneasiness to such a strong unholy presence that I've witnessed.
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