Blood Lily Company - Afghanistan, year 1

LXXX

At breakfast, while we were sipping our scalding instant coffee, Erk pulled out a map of the region. A3 format, folded in 8, prepared in the manner of old military maps which were cleanly cut into rectangles and glued to fabric. Each rectangle had been laminated and you could write on it with a grease pencil, like a kohl make-up pencil but thinner, or, if you wanted permanent, with an alcohol marker.

This map only covered Durrani's territory, with the base at the edge. With Tito's help, we retraced our path on the map. You're going to say that it's a bit of a duplication with the helmets, but we needed to know where to go, not where we were, and since we couldn't project what Tito was seeing, and our combat tablets were too small to use them together, we still used these improved military maps. This was in fact a satellite image reworked by computer to bring out the wadis, elevations and other "pleasant" surprises invisible or hidden from the satellite.

We looked at the map, searching for what was a day's walk into the heart of the Pashtun's territory. We found one or two sets of buildings that could be interesting. They weren't farms, they were bigger. Kris pointed to one.

- Archer, see if you can get a better idea of what this is via satellite, will you?

I lowered my visor, took out my combat tablet, started fiddling by entering coordinates, asking for better definition... I got a snapshot from two months ago, better than nothing. I watched it for a bit, then, with the click of a button, I shared it with the whole patrol.

- Tablets, guys.

They looked at the picture, commented...

- Looks like a farm, more American or Argentinean than Afghan-style, Kitty said.

- What makes you think of that, Kitty?

- The way the buildings are organized around a central courtyard is rather standard for a large farm. There, we can see the farmhouse, with planters around the house, as if there was a woman who had the time and the leisure to grow flowers. Then those buildings on the right, they look like hay sheds or whatever. Opposite, a machine shed: look at the width of the tire tracks. It looks like they were made by a tractor.

- Well, said Erk, around here, the only one who can afford this kind of equipment is the Pashtun. And aside from alfalfa for his thoroughbreds, I doubt he grows anything other than poppy. Fine. We're not equipped to destroy this crop, but if you don't mind, we'll do a little recon.

- We need a height, said JD, silent until then.

- Good point, JD, said Erk. Tito, Archer, see if you can find us a perch.

While we were comparing our data, Kris asked Kitty why she said "like".

- I can't imagine an Afghan woman having time to grow flowers.

- Yes, Kitty, but... why did you think of flowers?

- Uh... I think I saw pictures when I was little. Photos of farms in the U.S. And now that I think about it, the buildings were located almost like the ones here, kind of like...

She fell silent. Tito called me to order, I had been distracted by the talks. I concentrated again while Kitty thought.

As we found a suitable place, Kitty let out a loud curse in English.

- Fuck!

We were all startled, we knew of her extensive vocabulary of insults and other courtesies in Pashto and Dari, but in French and English, she had always remained polite.

- I let myself be taken in like a moron.

She started gesturing, as if that would help the words come out without tumbling over each other.