He said.

"Hey, Sammy, this beauty is purrin' like she swallowed a Ferrari," Flynn declared from the driver's seat of their Humvee.

"I agree, Monty. Abdul, the cousin of Jiddah, is a most proficient mechanic. A fine chap with a fine family as well."

It was late evening and Flynn and Samhal were barrel-assing home. They had eaten dinner with Jiddah and Julie and had been invited to stay the night. Flynn had declined. He was dearly tempted but he knew it was time to discuss things with Sammy and formulate a strategy, in private. Also, he reasoned the house would be a tad cramped, and awkward, with the four of them jangling around.

Declining the invitation hadn't floated well with either of the women, but it was Julie who had made it most evident. Flynn couldn't reveal his true reason for begging off; he needed to keep Julie in the dark regarding their next moves. He said they didn't want to impose. Julie told him he was being ridiculous and it made for farewells that were decidedly cool. Flynn would love to have remained but he had bills to pay for godsake!

"Heads up, Sammy," he warned, "let's see what this baby'll really do."

He hammered the gas.

Flynn cranked the wheel hard right and the Humvee catapulted off the road, clearing the shallow ditch and bouncing onto the desert scrub-land.

They bumped and slewed wildly over the uneven terrain.

"Praise Allah!" Samhal whooped, clutching the grab handles. "Punch it, Monty!"

Flynn geared up and juiced it. They tore over the broken ground.

They did this occasionally, it was good practice –you never knew when you'd be involved in a high-speed chase– and besides, it was a sick way to blow off steam; not to mention... it was a friggin' hoot!

Flynn only wished he had more practice time under his belt in the other high-speed chase now underway in his life. He didn't know whether he was the chaser, or the chasee; whether he wanted to catch or be caught. And in either case, what then? He thought life had been complicated juggling Kurtz, The Djinn, Oasis, creditors, and family issues. But they were a small bag of potatoes stacked up against his Julie McNeill dilemma.

What in hell was he going to do about this woman? What could he do? He was certain of only one thing: he had it bad for Julie... really bad. A pity she wasn't dim-witted, or a ball buster, or a snob, or something. He could cope with that, and maybe be able to resist her hot body. Or maybe if she wasn't so damn cute, he could resist her charm. As it was, he felt he was losing control.

This was undiscovered country for Flynn. His previous interactions with females had been uncomplicated: a little flirting, some drinking, a lot of schtupping, no thinking, adieu. Simple.

Flynn rammed the brakes and jammed the Humvee sideways to a halt –a perfect parallel park between two boulders. He cut the ignition, sat in silence, stared out the windshield, pulled absently at his chin stubble.

"So. Tell me, boss," Samhal began coyly as their dust plumes settled, "how are things in Flynnland? Heart problems, perhaps? And, uh, have you made any headway on your... what were they? Ah yes, your 'Karmic deficit' and 'virtues-are-me' list." He couldn't suppress a sidelong grin.

Flynn made a quarter turn in his seat and leaned an elbow on the arm rest, studied his buddy with a knitted brow, and then asked, "Just what in hell is that supposed to mean? Do you know something I don't? Or that you shouldn't?"

"Most definitely not, Captain Monty." Samhal held up his palms in denial. "I am certain you know it all. I am certain you know well about women; about how girlfriends cannot resist discussions of boyfriends?"

Oh sweet jeezus, Flynn thought in horror, did Julie blab details of my mini-skirt revue, or worse: our waltz down S&M alley? He wondered whether that kinky episode qualified as virtue or vice. After all, it wasn't his idea. And, hadn't he exhibited understanding and sensitivity in complying with Julie's slightly bent desires? On the other hand he kind of got off on it; maybe he was guilty of perversion. He said, "Sammy, I'm discovering I know squat about women. And, yeah, I s'pose Saint Peter now has a couple more issues to discuss with me before he swings open the gates... assuming I make it that far."

"Aw, do not trouble yourself, boss," Samhal gave a wave of dismissal. "I have not heard anything that would qualify as more than venial sin as far as your relationship with Dahab is concerned. I think you are positioned most favorably in her good graces. And I can tell you that Jiddah has placed a few gold stars beside your name."

Samhal paused and then continued with a more serious tone, "Jiddah has seen new life in Dahab since you have been present. She says Dahab has not properly grieved the loss of her parents, there has been no closure. This can sometimes result in... unusual behavior.

"Dahab attempts to follow in her father's footsteps, hide herself in a foreign culture. Jiddah says this is not a good thing." Samhal paused again and then said in a tentative manner, "Have you pondered the future, and Dahab, Flynn?"

Flynn's eyes rounded in dismay. This Oprah stuff was not something he and Samhal ever engaged in... until this Afghanistan job. But it was on his mind. And it was affecting his performance, big time.

Flynn rested his hands on the base of the steering wheel, looked into the bleak, indifferent desert.

A spotted lizard skittered to the top of the boulder at the front of the Humvee; he executed two speedy push-ups, blinked and then stared at Flynn. Flynn returned the stare while saying, "Future with Julie? Yeah, I've been thinking about it. But I can't see beyond a few weeks. She sure as hell isn't leaving Afghanistan. And I can't stay. And even if I could persuade Julie to leave, I doubt she'd be interested in sailing the seas with a couple of mooks like us."

"I agree it is unlikely Dahab will leave Afghanistan, Monty. But there is no harm in asking. If she declines you will at least remove the potential of later regret. If she accepts, she accepts you... and your numerous short-comings."

"Golly, thanks for the vote of confidence... y'miserable shit." Flynn shook his head, smiling, and then said seriously, "But you know what, Sammy, I might take your advice on this one. I've got nothing to lose and maybe everything to gain. You could be right about Julie. I think aside from the mercenary bullshit she kinda' likes me. Once we get this contract in the can, who knows, maybe it'll be clear sailing."

"You are most welcome, Mister Montague. I will send you the bill. Now, concerning that contract..."

"Right," Flynn broke in. "You said you had information about BlackSky, and corruption?"

While in Kandahar, Samhal had acquired more than a rejuvenated Humvee and furniture-moving experience. First, he had learned from cousin Abdul, the mechanic, that Colonel Kurtz and his boys had been supplying many of the automotive repair shops in the city with tools and spare parts –jacked from the Fort Apache motor pool, no doubt.

"No bloody wonder our access privileges at Fort Apache have been cutoff," Flynn commented.

"Yes, and we were fortunate Abdul still had Humvee shocks in stock because it appears BlackSky has graduated."

This was Samhal's second bombshell: BlackSky had graduated from automotive supply to the currency-exchange business. Abdul's wife was employed at a Kabul Bank. There were rumors that Kurtz had been depositing considerable sums of gold bullion for transfer to Swiss accounts.

"And that is why we have a re-charged battery instead of a new one," Samhal drolly concluded.

"Oh merde, Sammy!" Flynn said. "Kurtz must be hooked into the arms and opium trade. He didn't get that gold from selling stolen auto parts. And we've been providing intel to help keep him supplied."

Flynn removed his cap and pushed his fingers through his hair, racking his brain. He said, "But he can't be working with The Djinn. Otherwise he wouldn't have sent me after him. And The Djinn warned me that BlackSky money was dirty. What in hell have we got ourselves into?"

"Only Allah knows, Captain Monty. But we had best figure it out soon, before we are implicated... or eliminated. We have acquired more potential enemies than just the Taliban. Now, we may have to protect our backs from The Djinn, BlackSky and the coalition brass."

"Jeezus H Christ," Flynn sighed heavily, "we gotta get back to camp and work out some kind of strategy to get our asses outta this wringer. We've got to get our cash before Kurtz lands in the brig, or grave."

"Inshallah –God willing–" Samhal said equably. "But at least there is a good side to these most disturbing developments."

"Oh yeah? And what is that?"

"It makes your relationship woes with Dahab appear much less daunting."