Surprised by the severity of his threat, Boone and Hawk exchanged a look, and Calliope glanced over her shoulder at them.
As if understanding he was talking about them, some of the sheep bleated and became restless, brushing and bumping against each other as they moved away from the perceived threat.
“Please, please, I … I do not know anything.” The man’s eyes were huge and continually moved back and forth from Boone to Hawk. He totally dismissed Calliope, clueless to the danger she could rain down on him.
“You are lying, because nothing happens on this mountain that you do not know about it.” Khalid slowly slid a curved blade from his belt and held it up.
The sun winked off the blade like a warning. Then he reached down and grabbed the ears of one of the sheep, yanked its head back, and held the knife to the throat of the animal.
The animal’s tongue stuck out as it cried out loudly.
“Please, Khalid, do not—”
“Talk!” Khalid’s voice boomed, and the man jumped.
“Okay, yes, yes, I have seen an American coming and going from the old ruins up there.” His words tumbled out as he pointed a shaky, gnarled finger in the direction of the nearby trail.
“What did the man look like?” Hawk asked.
“He was … he was about your height but heavier,” he said. “He … he has dark hair to his shoulders, a very bushy beard with a mustache, and … and he always carries a pistol, right here.” He reached around and patted the center of his lower back.
“Did you follow him?” Boone asked, and the man nodded. “What did you see?”
“It was late last evening, and I only followed him to the end of the trail, until he disappeared into the darkness.” Fahim spoke quickly. “I thought he might be hiding something valuable there. So, after he left, I looked around and … that’s when I heard it.”
“Heard what?” Boone asked.
“It … it sounded like … like children crying, and I think it was coming from inside the old ruins.”
“You thought you might have heard children crying, and yet you did nothing.” Khalid’s revulsion dripped from every syllable of every word.
“It was very dark and … and I was too afraid the man might return.” He shook his head frantically. “He is evil and very dangerous.”
Calliope glanced back at him. “Not nearly as dangerous as we are.”
“How dare a woman speak to me in such a way.” Fahim sneered at her with saliva gathering at the corners of his lips. “No woman is a danger to me.” He raised his arm and lurched forward, as if to attack her.
Boone drew his arm back and landed a nice solid punch to Fahim’s midsection.
Air exploded from his lungs. He doubled over, and his kufi slipped off his head and landed on the mud-packed ground. He groaned, sputtered, and tried to suck in breaths of air.
“You’re lucky he got to you before she did.” Hawk crossed his arms.
“Damn right.” Calliope mumbled, “Fuckin’ asshole.”
“You’re fine, you’re fine, just take a few breaths.” Boone spoke to him like a child, picked up his hat, and patted the guy on the back. “There ya go. Deep breaths.”
Fahim spit a few times, sucked in a few wheezing breaths, then straightened.
“Did you see any girls being taken up there?” Boone handed him his hat.
“No, no!” He shook his head frantically. “I did not see anything like that, but I was only just released from the medical clinic four days ago. Perhaps he took them up there then.”
“How often have you seen him up there?” Boone needed more intel before they went off on some wild goose chase, or worse, walked into a trap.
“Since leaving the clinic, I have seen him going up there two times, with a day in between each trip.” Fahim put his hat back on and frowned as he rubbed his belly. “That first time I saw him, he was carrying two large, green military-looking bags. The second time, he was carrying canvas bags that I recognized from one of the vendors at the market.”
“Have you seen anyone else going up there?” Khalid had resumed his position directly in front of him.
