Sergeant Rick shouted at us from atop his Humvee: "YOU GUYS HAVE FORTY MINUTES UNTIL THIS ROAD IS LOUSY WITH TALIBAN – YOU BETTER GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE NOW!"
In our six months in Afghanistan, we'd heard this warning several times. Georgie, our crew leader, had always been paranoid and frightened of being left behind without protection from the soldiers, and made sure we closely followed the troops when they left any area.
"WE GOTTA GET ONE MORE SHOT," he yelled at me and Eddy above the roar of military vehicles as they rumbled past us. This was the first time he decided we should stay behind. I hoped he was making the right decision.
Eddy and I were the Rodmen on our survey team. We work for a huge oil company building a pipeline thru the country to the sea, and Georgie was the Field Manager, he was in charge. Eddy and I thought Georgie was a chubby dork, but we had the utmost respect and confidence in his decisions and his skill as a Surveyor.
Georgie told us where he wanted me and Eddy to be positioned when he took the shot, and we set-out in different directions.
I had to carefully maneuver half-way up a steep and rocky hill to set my tripod in place. It was tricky to keep it from falling over, but I managed to kick away enough stones and rocks when I found a level shelf. I stood in the cold wind and waited for Eddy to set-up so Georgie could take the shot.
I stood on the hillside with a goofy grin on my face. In three days we were going home – in three days I would have Rebecca in my arms and a boatload of money in the bank. I was so happy the sharp, cold gusts of wind didn't bother me in the least.
This was the smartest decision I'd ever made. Back home, I would have had to work three years to earn the money I made here in six months. Not only that, Georgie told me I'd learned so much here, and performed such good work, he was going to recommend to the company I become a Field Manager with a crew of my own.
He said I would become, at twenty-one-years-old, one of the youngest Field Managers in the history of the company. I took great pride in Georgie's words: he was the smartest and most competent Surveyor I'd ever worked alongside.
A sudden gust of wind made the tripod tip over, but I caught it before it hit the ground. With some effort, I got it back in place and looked at Georgie for the 'all-clear' signal.
He was facing the other direction waving his arms and pointing with a finger. Over my headset, I heard him barking orders to Eddie.
I waited patiently; this wasn't the first time Eddy was in the wrong position. Eddy was a helluva nice guy, but not very bright. He was a big, lumbering-clumsy guy my own age, and had difficulty traversing the rocky terrain the whole time we'd been working in Afghanistan.
I filled the time thinking of Rebecca; her beautiful face and soft and sexy creamy-white flesh. She had a smile that warmed my heart, and laughter that made the birds sing.
I'd been in love with her since high school. And when I got home, we were going to get married, and we would finally consummate our relationship.
We both wanted to remain virgins until we married, and quite frankly, that was growing more difficult and frustrating as the days and weeks and months passed us by.
In all honesty, I couldn't bear much longer having to take my lust and desire for her into my own hands, if you know what I mean.
I could still hear Georgie yelling at Eddy as I looked at my watch. If Sergeant Rick's warning was true, we only had twenty minutes until this place would be swarming with enemy soldiers.
"C'mon, guys," I said into my headset mouthpiece. "Times running out—hurry up and get the shot!"
The sun dipped below the nearest mountain casting an eerie shadow on the hillsides.
I shivered as a cold chill raced up and down my spine. Even if Georgie got the shot right now it would take Eddy ten minutes and me a little longer to get back to the Jeep. Our margin for error was razor-thin. I prayed to God Sergeant Rick's prediction was wrong.
I nervously searched the mountains for any sign of movement—I saw none. I remembered when Sergeant Rick told us how cunning and adaptable the Taliban was in these mountains and hillsides. How they blended in with the rocks and bushes. They could be here now and we wouldn't even know it.
"I swear to you," he'd said. "I scoured the mountainside with my binoculars and nothing was moving—not a soul—then BOOM--ten seconds later they showed-up out of nowhere and rushed down the hills...damn good thing there were twenty of us and we were able to shoot the bastards before they got to us!"
"ALL CLEAR—LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" I heard Georgie shout in my headset.
I wasted no time. I slung the equipment over my shoulder and slowly made my way down the steep slope. Going down always took more time than going up. I had to take baby-steps to make sure I didn't fall and tumble down the hill.
A hundred yards from the Jeep I glanced up from the ground and saw Eddy and Georgie waiting patiently for me.
A sense of urgency caused me to be careless, and I fell on my butt. My first instinct was to protect the expensive equipment. I held it high over my head as I slid down the hill trying to use my feet as brakes to stop my rocky and painful descent.
I was able to halt my slide when my feet braced themselves against a large boulder. I scrambled to my feet and made my way down the remainder of the slope.
Suddenly, I heard Georgie's voice shrieking and shouting thru the headset: "THEY'RE HERE—THEY'RE HERE---HURRY-HURRY-HURRY!"
I instantly knew who he was screaming about: the Taliban!
In sheer terror, I scrambled the rest of the way down the hill and reached the bottom. I was fifty yards from the Jeep. I ran to it as fast as I could. I looked around and saw shadowy figures scurrying down the mountainside from every direction.
Georgie became hysterical. "NO-NO-NO-NO!!"
I heard the Jeep motor turn over. I was twenty yards away when the tires of the Jeep spit stones and rocks in my direction. The Jeep shot forward and rocketed away from me at a high-rate of speed.
"GEORGIE," I screamed at the top of my lungs. "GEOR—GIEEEEEEEE...."
When the Jeep careened around a corner of a mountain and disappeared from sight, I stood still in absolute disbelief and shocked horror. They were gone.
They had left me behind. I was on my own. I was alone with the Taliban.
My first instinct was to run. I looked around and saw men closing in on me with their rifles aimed directly at my head. There was nowhere to go.
My heart thumped loudly in my chest. My nerves a jumbled mess of electric jolts shooting thru-out my body. I stood perfectly still -- paralyzed from head-to-toe with fear.
Their shouting, excited voices grew louder as they cautiously approached me. I didn't know what they were saying. Sergeant Rick said they spoke Pashto around here.
I guessed there were a dozen men all dressed in burlap sacks, at least, that's how we joked about their attire back at the base camp.
Seeing them closing in on me now was no laughing matter. As they surrounded me, I saw most had full faces of hair, and the ones that didn't had at least three days' worth of stubble. All of their piercing brown eyes were trained on me.
When they were three feet from me I saw their grotesque smiles; there were many missing teeth. And then their smell hit me.
From their disheveled and unkempt look, they had obviously not been around water for some time. The foul stench of body odor from a dozen unwashed men assaulted my nose.
Suddenly, one man came forward and smiled down at me. I'm 5'7" and 130 pounds; all of these men were much taller and heavier than me.
He was so close I could feel the heat from his breath on my cheeks; his breath was just as nasty as his body odor. He raised a hand and I was afraid he would strike me, but he gently began stroking my face.
He was babbling something in his native language to the other men and they all snickered and sneered at me. He removed his hand from my face and without warning both his hands were on my chest unbuttoning my shirt. Then more hands were on me. They were trying to open my jeans.
I was consumed with terror; fear and loathing overwhelmed me. They were trying to get my clothes off and I was twisting and squirming to stop them.
Sergeant Rick had mortified us with stories of sex acts the Taliban forced their white captives to perform. Ugly images of being gang-raped flashed thru my mind. At that moment I wished they would just kill me.
The men had become brute animals as they pawed at my clothing. Suddenly, a rifle shot rang out. It was so close I was temporarily deafened. The men reluctantly backed away from me.
A tall man was shouting as he came close; the other men stopped jabbering and lost interest in me. I guessed this man was their leader. I'd never felt so grateful to someone in my life.
I looked up into my savior's face; he too had an evil grin on his bearded face, and something more, I swore his dark brown eyes were sparkling as he intently looked me up and down.
I was relieved he'd stopped the other men, but I suspected 'Sparkle Eyes' motive was purely selfish. I had a sinking feeling that he wanted me all for himself.
He barked an order and my arms were roughly pulled behind me. My wrists were tied with rope tightly together behind my back. Then he shouted again and he pushed me forward and we all began walking.