Into the Hindu Kush

(The Tiger & The Kite Runner)

Trush stepped down from his Kung, now appearing out of place on the dry, Afghani soil where he and his brothers fought so long ago. It took a lot for Yuri to leave his quiet home near Primorye, but this trip was important. He was no longer a member of Inspection Tiger but he remained worried about Udege Legend, the federal park that to this day, he still patrols. With loaded rifle in hand Trush hurried inside the mud stained, dilapidated dwelling he had parked outside. Inside was a stout Pakistani man, seeing that the informant was unarmed Trush set his gun down by the door.

Trush was called by the American embassy in Moscow to complete a special mission. This mission, however, was oddly labeled, “of minimum importance” and the text that followed was minimalist, “The assignment, should you accept it, is to travel into Afghanistan and retrieve an American novelist.” Yuri accepted the assignment because of the reward, two million U.S. dollars. With that money he could improve his ability to watch over the federal park’s territory, and increase the tiger’s chance of regaining its prominence in the Russian wilderness. He assumed the Americans had called him, an aging, federally employed Russian Taiga patrolman, because he was generally familiar with the area from his time in the Soviet-Afghan war. The truth of the matter was that 30 others had been called upon but refused to accept the dangerous job, Washington was just steps away from calling in a seal team.

“His name is Amir, he came back to Afghanistan to seek inspiration for a new book,” explained the informant from across the rickety plywood table.

“Any leads on where to start looking?” inquired Trush.

“Does it matter? You’re good as dead, the Taliban still remain throughout these hills.” The informant frowned, his wrinkled, beard enshrouded face, seemed almost depressed by the prospect of another lost man.

Trush made it clear that he was the proper man for the job, “Have you ever looked a tiger in the eyes? Have you ever experienced the true heart shaking fear that comes from the distinct sound of their death growls, the ones they make just before they go in for the kill? I’m used to a sleuthing silent threat, I can become the predator, if need be. I’m sure this Taliban will be a careless bunch, their tracks will be like a map to their plans, daily routines, patterns. I’m better prepared than any military operatives, just tell me where to go to find Amir, and I’ll bring him back.”

“He is somewhere in the Hindu Kush, good luck finding him…”said the informer doubtfully.

After thanking the informant Trush was on his way, travelling by Kung towards the Hindu Kush. Yuri was wary of the threat the Taliban posed in the region, but he hadn’t known the mission would take place in the Hindu Kush, and this changed everything. He had weeks worth of food and fuel and a small arsenal of weaponry delivered to him for this job while he was still in Russia. Grenades, rockets, and military grade rifles filled the Kung. Now when he reached the Hindu Kush the Kung would have to be abandoned and hidden somewhere not even the Taliban would find it, a tough task in a mountain range most insurgents knew like the back of their hand.

When Trush reached the base of the mountains he looked for an area to stow the Kung. He managed to park it in a ditch and covered it with a few branches, it looked a bit out of the ordinary, but it was the best he could do. Trush took a backpack with food and other necessities along with a reliable AK Soviet issue rifle, and a few grenades for good measure and began on his way through the Hindu Kush.

Throughout the following week Trush kept a low profile, there were some close encounters, but for the most part he went unnoticed through the mountain range. Running low on options Yuri made way towards a makeshift Taliban camp in a mountainside alcove. Finding a spot close enough to listen he risked it all, running from rock to rock until he reacted his desired position. Spectacularly he went unnoticed, but then again, these insurgents lacked the sharp instincts of a tiger. While listening in on the camping men, he got word of a settlement somewhere atop the Hindu Kush, where they were keeping prisoners in the shattering cold. Trush didn’t think such a settlement could exist atop the Hindu Kush, but if one did, it would be very easy to find.

* * *

The snow was all too familiar to Yuri Trush, crunching under his careful feet, he knew if he was close he needed to watch for mines. Noticing the shift in wind patterns Yuri thought he might be close. As he reached the crest of part of the mountain he spotted a dome shaped metal building. There were two patrolling guards on the outside both wearing thick, fur filled, parkas. Trush took them out at a distance utilizing the howling wind and low visibility to conceal his shots. Soon he was inside the headquarters, it was no labyrinth, just a simple underground prison with minimal Taliban presence, all of the cells appeared empty. Eventually after a good amount of sneaking around Yuri found what he was looking for, Amir’s cell. Astoundingly Amir was present inside the cell, sleeping on a cement bed. Trush hurried into a room containing a cache of keys and found one with the number matching that of Amir’s cell. After opening the door, Amir awoke within a second, quickly he recognized Yuri wasn’t a member of the Taliban.

“Are you Amir?” asked Yuri.

“Yes,” Amir replied in a tired voice.

It looked like he had been beaten and starved, his arms and legs were bloodstained and his eyes black. “I haven’t felt this broken down since my fight with Assef,” muttered Amir.

“Who?” Trush inquired.

Amir groaned and hunched over. Yuri left and was back shortly with a parka, and other proper winter attire for Amir. With one arm around Yuri, Amir was able to slowly make it to a small room where Yuri had set up an escape. An old 80’s snowmobile, mostly covered in rust was the only thing in the room besides a small garage door. After starting the engine both Amir and Yuri began their escape.

Eventually they reached the end of the snow cap and had to begin the on foot descent. Amir wasn’t as broken as he first appeared, now able to journey slowly on foot with the aid of a makeshift cane. Trush was still out of the know regarding the details of the mission, “How did you get captured?” Yuri finally managed to ask the paining man.

Amir smiled, his cheeks raked with scrapes and cuts, “I looked at them the wrong way.”

“The wrong way?” Trush questioned.

“I couldn’t help myself, I did the same thing a while back when looking for Hassan. My friend Farid warned me not to but for some reason I can’t resist the urge to look them in the eye, to try to understand them, I still can’t.”

“Genocide is a shame in this world. Where I’m from in Russia, tigers are the victim, but people in Primorye have no choice, they can’t even afford to register their weapons. It’s sometimes hard to take their weapons away, it’s their life, hunting. This…what the Taliban is doing, isn’t the same.”

There was silence for a while, both men deep in thought. During the rest of the trip down the two didn’t converse much. They were drawn together by an unbelievable fate, from completely different worlds, there wasn’t much to talk about.

In time they reached the Kung, where Yuri had left it, covered in brush, but more or less an obvious standout, only luck can be responsible for its remaining presence. Once on the road, Amir and Yuri felt a sort of relief. “I tracked and killed a man eating tiger in Siberia, but never have I gone on a journey such as this. I was younger then,” stated Yuri.

“Can’t you retire?” asked Amir.

“Can’t you stop returning to Afghanistan?” joked Yuri.

They laughed, “I love my job,” explain Yuri.

“And I love my home country,” said Amir.

Later Amir wrote a novel about a hero, who went on a journey of a lifetime to save someone he knew nothing about, simply out of the kindness of his heart, and some good amount of cash. Of course like all Amir’s works it contained some irony.