“I’m just doing my job.”
“See?” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Since she help with my Gabina, I ask Allah to help Kasra find freedom.” He thrust his jaw at him. “I see many American soldier in Roud. But they did not protect her like you. They do bad things ...” He nodded. “Understand?”
More than he wanted to admit.
“And you help but not worry aboutherjob.” He studied Range. “I think I know what you are.”
Range frowned.
“You are a Christian, yes?” His voice had quieted, speaking something that could get them all killed now that the Taliban once again controlled with an iron fist.
Barking up the wrong end of that Bible, buddy.
“I think only a Christian could see past her job. Allah help you do that.”
Herjob? “Shesold kids… That’s not a job, that’s …” Range clenched his teeth. Reminded himself he was a guest in this man’s house. “Hard to overlook.”
Coman arched an eyebrow and took another sip of his tea. “I see you avoid my question.”
Range had nothing to prove here. Last thing he needed was a lecture about his abandoned beliefs. Well, maybe not abandoned, but stuffed in the attic with yearbooks and high school soccer trophies. “We should get going.”
On his feet, Coman seemed alarmed. “I offend. My apologies, friend. Please, stay.”
Range cocked his head. “We’ve been here too long.”
“No, no. Toosoon.” The man held a hand out to Range, then indicated to the streets. “Too busy. Wait till late night.” He touched his wife’s shoulder. “Gabina, makesheer pira. Yes? Delicious.”
“Of course,” she said, emerging from the back room.
“No. No more food.” Range remembered the last time someone conned him into eatingthatdesert.
Kasra slipped around the couple and came to him. “You are being rude,” she hissed. The green kurta she now wore set off her eyes and accented her light olive complexion.
“I’m not here to make friends,” he bit back.
“We leave now and we will be seen,” she growled. “Night is safer. You cannot argue that.”
“Being here puts your friends in danger.” He angled closer. “Or do you just care about yourself? Again?”
Nostrils flaring, she seethed. Tightened her lips. “We should go,” she quietly said to her friends, giving Range one last glare before turning to their hosts. “I do not want you hurt because of me.”
“Baba, bad men are coming,” one of the kids called.
Loud thuds came from below. Then shouts.
Range reached for his weapon.
“This way,” Coman said, leading them to the back room. A tapestry hung on the wall and he nudged it aside to reveal a small door. He clenched it open. “Down the passage, to the left. It will take you to the back alley.”
Banging came from the front room.
“Hurry!”
Range directed her into the space first, and though she gave him a dark look, she hugged the satchel and tucked through the small opening. He offered his hand to the man. “Manana.”
Coman rested a hand on his back. “Ask, and protect her. Allah has put her in your care. Be careful how you handle that responsibility, brother.”
Irritated with the instruction, Range folded himself through the tight space and crouched there a second to let his gaze adjust. Behind him the door clunked shut and then he heard Coman calling to the visitors.
