Page 75 of Mr. Charming

“As long as you don’t expect me to shoot the gun or anything.”

“Only in the case of an emergency.”

She smiled then climbed into the back. I got into the passenger seat, the butt of my M16A4 on the floorboard between my legs.

“Let’s rock-and-roll,” Logan said.

“Is he always this full of energy?” Jade asked, one hand on each of the two front seats.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

The Humvee slipped into gear and lurched forward, pushing her back.

“Careful,” Logan yelled over the roar of the engine.

I glanced back at her, impressed at her determination.

“We’ll hand out medical supplies and water while we’re there,” I shouted.

She stayed silent, looking out at the barren landscape. I turned forward and stared out the windshield, looking for anything out of the ordinary in the distance. In Afghanistan, anything could happen at any moment. The only ones who survived were the ones who stayed on their toes.

Logan stepped on the gas pedal. The giant vehicle rushed forward. It would be a hell of a day.

*

Ten minutes later, we rolled up to the entrance of the village. An old man sat on a huge tire on the side of the road. I kept my eyes on him as we passed, not sure if I recognized him or not.

“We’re here,” I said. “Be sure not to wander off.”

“Trust me. I learned my lesson yesterday.”

I turned to Logan.

“Park by Aamir’s house.”

“Already on it.”

“He’s the village elder,” I explained.

“Have you known him long?”

“Always with the questions, huh?”

“It’s my job.”

The Humvee stopped. Logan killed the engine. I opened the door and hopped out, waiting for Jade to climb down. At least a dozen village children swarmed around the vehicle, all excitedly raising their hands and yelling at the same time.

“Enough!” Aamir said as he emerged from the house, stroking his long, white beard.

At the sound of his voice, the children scattered.

“Welcome, my friend Cooper,” he said, ignoring Jade’s presence.

“Thank you, Aamir. I brought someone to talk with you. This is Jade.”

She offered her hand. The old man stared at it as if she were offering him a pile of dung.

“How are things?” I asked him, hoping to avoid a confrontation.