Chapter 30
“Where am I?”
Blade tried to lift his head, but it felt like a ton of bricks was pushing down on him.
“Don’t worry, you’re safe.”
Stitch.
Slowly the events of the last few days came rushing back. The checkpoint, the capture, the beating… He took in an experimental breath and was surprised to find it hurt less.
“You’ve patched me up?”
“Somewhat.” Stitch’s voice was grim. “I’ve set your broken arm best I can, but you might want to get it looked at by a specialist when you get back to the States. I’ve put back your dislocated collarbone—probably a good thing you were out for that—and I’ve iced your black eye. Nothing I can do about the three broken ribs, unfortunately. That’ll take some time to heal.”
“Three broken ribs?” He looked down to find he was wearing a loose-fitting robe.
“Yeah, they did a number on you, pal. You’re lucky you were able to walk out of there.”
He grunted. “Thanks, Stitch.”
“Not the first time, but I sure as hell hope it’s the last.”
“So do I.”
Blade flexed his left hand, it felt strange, like his nerves weren’t working properly. Everything would take time to heal, including his heart.
“Lily?” he muttered. “Did she get away?”
“I haven’t heard anything, so I assume so. Farzaad’s been scanning the local news stations, but there’s been no mention of her. No disturbance on the local police channels either, other than hunting for your sorry ass. My guess is she’s home free.”
Yet they wouldn’t know for sure until he’d talked to Pat.
“Got a cell phone?” he asked, knowing it was a long shot.
“Yeah, right.”
So much for that. Out here, there was minimal cell reception, and no Wi-Fi. Even in the cities, it was sporadic. And highly censored.
“You’re going to have to hang tight, buddy. Once you’re feeling better, you can head back to Kabul.”
“How? They’re going to come after me like a buck during hunting season.”
“I have a surprise for you.”
Blade recognized that wide, sly grin.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, but you have to get up to see it. I can’t bring it to you.”
Blade huffed. This was Stitch’s attempt at getting him moving. He knew the dangers of muscle atrophy and staying too long in one place.
“Okay, give me a sec.” Using his good arm, he pushed himself into a sitting position. The room swam, momentarily, but after a hard blink, it stabilized.
“You good?” Stitch was frowning.
“Yeah, I think so.”
He swung his legs out of bed, the concrete floor felt hard and cool under his bare feet. Unnatural, since it had been a while since he’d walked.
“How long have I been out?”
“Twenty-four hours, give or take.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, you were worse than I thought. It’s still gonna take a while, so don’t be a hero.”
“How long?”
“Couple of weeks, at least.”
Fuck.
“You’re safe here,” Stitch repeated. “Farzaad doesn’t mind if you stay.”
Blade hobbled across the room, assisted by Stitch. His legs wobbled, but he gritted his teeth and aimed for the door.
“Who is this guy?”
“He’s a friend. I met him shortly after I arrived. He’s a good guy, you can trust him.”
“How do I know?”
“Because I delivered his baby twins earlier this year, and they’d have died without me. He owes me big time.”
A smiling, turbaned man walked toward them. He extended a hand. “Hello. I am Farzaad.”
They shook.
“Farzaad doesn’t speak much English.” Stitch grinned. “But he’s a great cook. He works in a restaurant in the next town. You won”t go hungry.”
Blade nodded. The guy looked genuine, and he trusted Stitch, but until he’d spent some time with the chef, he would reserve judgment.
They made their way to a side door. Farzaad opened it to reveal a garage.
No way.
Farzaad had a shiny Honda CRF450L parked in the center, looking like it was just waiting to hit the road.
“Fuck, yeah.” The sleek, aggressive lines of the bike screamed performance, while its sturdy build spoke of reliability.
“This is your ride out of here.” Stitch patted the motorcycle.
Holding on to the wall for support, Blade inspected the 449cc liquid-cooled single-cylinder engine and six-speed transmission. It had plenty of grunt for off-road but would be a smooth ride on the highways too. Plus, it had the range to get him to Kabul.
Blade turned to Farzaad. “You don’t mind?”
He shook his head and patted Stitch on the shoulder. “Anything for ?āk?ar Sahib’s friend.”
Blade raised an eyebrow.
“That’s what they call me here.” A self-conscious smile lifted one corner of Stitch’s lips.
“I’ll look after it.”
“Easy now,” Stitch warned. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so.”
“What are you? My doctor?” He grinned, then winced.
“Two weeks, minimum.” He helped Blade back to bed. “I’ve got to head back, but I’ll check up on you in a few days.”
“Okay, thanks, Stitch.” He meant it.
“Just like old times, eh?” The medic grinned. “Stay out of trouble till I get back.”
“Will do.”
Blade lay back down on the bed. Stitch’s voice came through the thin walls as he said goodbye to Farzaad and left instructions not to let him go anywhere. No worries there.
He couldn’t right now if he wanted to.
If only he knew Lily was alright. If she got away safely.
Patience was not his strongest point, but like with his broken body, answers would have to wait.