I don’t have any medical training,” Nike whispered.
“Doesn’t matter. Robles will teach you the basics.”
She saw the pleading in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone with my lack of experience.”
“Don’t worry, that won’t happen.”
Abbas strode over and gave Gavin a brusque nod of acceptance. “Allah is good. The gifts are indeed welcome, Captain Jackson. Shukria, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, malik sahib,” Gavin murmured, touching his heart and bowing his head respectfully to the elder.
Mouth quirking, Abbas looked directly at Nike and jabbed a finger toward her. “And this is the woman who will help Dr. Robles?”
Gavin didn’t want to correct the elder. To do so would be a sign of disrespect. Besides, it would humiliate Abbas in front of the others and he had no wish to destroy what little trust he had just forged between them. “Yes, sir. Captain Nike Alexander will assist Dr. Robles, if you wish. With your permission, she will care for the women and girls of your village.”
“I wish it to be so,” Abbas said in a gruff tone. “My wife, Jameela, will bring her a hijab to wear over her head. She must respect Islam.” He folded his arms across his narrow chest. “You are welcome to remain here and help my people, Captain Jackson. We are a peaceful tribe of sheep-and goat-herders. I will have my second-in-command, Brasheer, help you.” He eyed Nike. “This woman is not allowed among your men. She will remain at our home. My wife will give her a room and she will remain in the company of women and children only.”
“Of course,” Gavin murmured, and he explained that Nike would be a transiting visitor because the helo was down. “You are most gracious,” he told Abbas, giving him a slight bow of acknowledgment. “We would like to stay as long as you need medical help.”
“I approve. Captain, you shall honor me by being my guest at every meal. We will prepare a room in our house for you. Your men will be housed at the other homes, fed, and given a place to sleep.”
“Thank you, malik sahib. You are more than generous. We hope our stay improves the health of your people.” Gavin could see the hope burning in the old man’s eyes. As an elder, he carried the weighty responsibility for everyone in his village. It wasn’t something Gavin himself would want to carry. Abbas must realize what these gifts would do to help his people. And he knew he was weighing Taliban displeasure over it, too. The Taliban would punish the village for taking the offered supplies and the old man took a surprising risk. With such humanitarian aide, this village might become less fearful of the Taliban and provide information to stop the terrorists from crossing their valley in the future. For now, no one in the villages gave away that information.
Gavin finished off the details of where the boxes would be taken and stored. All his men could speak Pashto. Robles was as fluent as Gavin and that would work in their favor. The other elders took over the management of the boxes while his A team became the muscle to carry the cartons toward the village.
Gavin watched as the elders left, parading the groups of carriers and boxes back into their village like conquering heroes. “Do you know any Pashto?” he asked Nike.
“I have problems with English sometimes and I’m Greek, remember?”
“So, I guess that’s a no.” Grinning, Gavin felt the tension melting off his tense shoulders. Just looking into Nike’s gold eyes made him hungry for her again. Black curls framed her face and Gavin had to stop himself from reaching out and threading his fingers through that dark, shining mass. “Pashto isn’t that difficult. Most villagers don’t speak English. I’ll get one of my other men to help interpret from a distance. You can always go outside the home and talk to him out in the street and he can translate. He won’t be allowed in where there is a female.”
“That sounds like a workable strategy.” She narrowed her eyes on Gavin. “So how did it go with Abbas? He looked like he’d just won the lottery when he read some of the labels on that shipment.”
Gavin laughed a little while keeping alert. Taliban came through this valley all the time, and he knew that with an American A team here, word would get out to their enemy. “The elders’ main concern is the health of their people. We’ve done this type of mission in southern Afghanistan for the last year and it was a great success. The key is in establishing trust with the Afghans.”
Nike nodded and noticed how Jackson remained alert. She was glad the .45 pistol was strapped to her left leg. And wearing a bulletproof vest gave her a strong sense of protection. She hated wearing the chafing vest, but this was Dodge City and bullets could fly at any time. “I thought I saw tears in his eyes. He kept stroking the tops of the boxes that contained the antibiotics. It reminds me of a Greek proverb—Upon touching sand may it turn to gold. Only this time, his gold is the lifesaving drugs for his people.”
Grimly, Gavin agreed and said, “I’m sure he’s seen many of his people die terrible, suffering deaths that could have been avoided if they’d only had antibiotics available to them.”
“Pnigese s’ena koutali nero,” she agreed softly in Greek.
Cocking his head, Gavin said, “What did you just say?”
“You drown in a teaspoon of water. Another one of my Greek sayings I was raised with. It’s the equivalent to your saying that for want of a nail the horse’s shoe is lost, and for want of a shoe the horse is lost, and for want of a horse, the battle is lost.” She held up her finger. “Antibiotics are a small thing, but in his world, they’re huge,” Nike said. “Why was Abbas pointing at me earlier?”
“His wife, Jameela, will bring you a hijab to wear. Just be grateful to her for the gesture. Moslem women always wear the hijab any time they’re outside their home. In Arabic it means covering or concealing.” His mouth pulled into a devilish grin. “The best part is Abbas inviting us to stay at his home. The men and women are always separated. You’ll be on the women’s side of the house and have your own room. You’ll also eat separately, too.”
“That’s a little strict.”
“I agree, but we have to be aware of their religious laws. Afghans see that as a sign of respect. And respect can, we hope, earn us friendship with them.”
Nike said, “Okay, boss, I can do it. Not exactly military issue, but in black ops you have to be flexible.”
“Good. Come on, I see a woman coming toward us. She’s got a red hijab in hand, so that must be Jameela.”
When Gavin placed his hand beneath her elbow, Nike was surprised. She felt a sense of protection emanating from him. It was like a warm blanket surrounding her and she couldn’t protest the nice gesture. The entire village, it seemed, had come out to view the boxes. Indeed, word had traveled fast. Women, men and children stood as the elders marched past them with the A team carrying some of the boxes. There was crackling excitement and expectation in the air.
“Women are pretty well hidden here from the outer world. When they’re inside their homes they don’t have to wear a burka or hijab. And there’s real power among the women. They treat one another like sisters. Even though you may think the women have it bad, they really run the place. They have a lot of power in the household and in the village decisions in general. The women learned a long time ago to stick together as a unit. United they stand and divided
