Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(12)

He wished he could run, but he had no choice.

His gun-wielding escort shoved Farzam forward. He stumbled and hit his knees. Stones sharpened with eons of desert wind dug into his skin. He winced but didn’t cry out. A show of weakness meant death. Of this he had no doubt.

He could feel eyes watching him from the crevices to either side. His loose-fitting pants hid his shaking legs, and he stood, forcing himself not to cower.

For his family.

The guards had broken into the hovel he now called home and dragged him from his bed. Many never came home after disappearing in such a manner. His beloved sister Setara, along with her husband and their two daughters, had vanished in a similar fashion four months ago.

Farzam swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. If he didn’t return, would his in-laws take his family in, or would his own dishonor infect what little remained of his life? Farzam’s only hope was that his wife and son hadn’t been taken, too. Maybe he had a chance to survive.

The guard pushed him through a chasm. Farzam slipped on the crumbling rock and rounded a large outcropping. He sucked in a breath at the sight before him. A narrow crevice opened into a gap housing several traditional buildings formed from mud, some embedded into the edge of the mountain.

His escort nodded to the armed guards standing at the narrow entrance. Farzam swallowed and stepped past them. Would he leave here alive?

He paused in front of the largest building’s open doorway. A man stood before him, his bearing haughty in a way inappropriate for his traditional attire. The guard clasping Farzam’s arm bowed his head and forced Farzam to follow suit.

“I am Khalid.”

Farzam swallowed deeply. He recognized the name of the vicious tribal leader.

Khalid smiled. “I see you have heard of me.”

Farzam nodded.

“You are brother by marriage to Pendar, the traitor?” Khalid asked.

Farzam’s entire body sagged. They knew of him. They probably knew he and his brother-in-law had been educated together as well. He was dead.

“Respond,” Khalid ordered.

Nothing could be done but acknowledge the truth. Farzam nodded again.

“Come. You shall witness the punishment.”

Farzam’s throat tightened, his mouth and lips dry, but he couldn’t hide the relief that blew through him like a hot desert wind. A witness existed to report events. If he was only an observer, maybe he would find his way home to his family. Maybe Setara and her daughters would leave with him.

Khalid led them through an open doorway.

Farzam gasped. His sister stood, head bowed, hair uncovered, against a rock face littered with bullet holes. A firing squad faced her.

Beside her, a man so beaten he was unrecognizable struggled to rise.

The man raised his chin, his expression defeated, sorrowful, dead. “Farzam,” he choked. “Forgive me, brother.”

The slurred words carved at Farzam like a pulwar, the traditional sword of his people. Pendar was barely alive. Then Setara turned her face.

He bit back a shocked cry. Her cheek had been sliced open from her eye to the corner of her mouth. Dirt caked the wound. Bruises mottled her jaw. Her chadri had been sliced, leaving the skin of her arms and even her torso exposed. She wrapped her arms around her body and averted her gaze.

Farzam’s hands tightened into fists. He wanted to rush to her, but he couldn’t move; his feet stayed still, as if cemented with clay. He said nothing. Shame burned through him with the sting of a viper’s venom.

“For treason against the tribe, for consorting with the enemy, the United States, we condemn Pendar Durrani to death. His wife, Setara, for conspiracy.”

“No, please! I beg of you,” Pendar pleaded with a weak croak. “Let my wife and daughters go.”

Khalid’s gaze narrowed. He looked with deliberation at Farzam and cocked a brow.

Farzam couldn’t speak. Where were his nieces? His tongue wouldn’t move. His throat closed off.

“So be it.” The man nodded at the firing squad.

Bullets sprayed his beloved sister’s body, tearing her flesh.

She fell to the ground.

Pendar cried out, his anguish echoing through the camp.

“Fire,” Khalid said, with no emotion, no caring in his voice.

Bullets pelted Pendar until he went silent, though his eyes continued to stare blankly at Farzam, even after his body lay limply on top of his wife.

Farzam said nothing.

Two squeals of horror from behind him penetrated his skull with the force of the bullets that had just murdered his family.

“Mother! Father!”

Farzam whirled around. His nieces’ eyes were wide with horror. Failure sliced at his soul, shredding the last of his dignity. He had failed them. He had failed his sister. He had failed his family.

“Take them away.”

Farzam could feel his mouth opening and closing, but nothing escaped. Even now.

Khalid stared down his nose at Farzam. “You wish to speak?” he said, his voice quiet.

Farzam shook his head in shame.

“I thought not.”

“May I bury them?” Farzam whispered.

“They deserve no honor. They will become a reminder.” Khalid stared down Farzam. “You worked with your brother. You studied in the United Kingdom. You share his views?”

Farzam swallowed. “No, sir.”