One Life ✓

Chapter 10: The Death Race Shift

A/N: Oof. I did my research, and I hope this is okay. If there's any issues with the playing of Buzkashi or anything at all, please point 'em out. Also, this one's pretty epic. Like it, yeah?

Amira—US Army Kandahar Base, Afghanistan

I raise an eyebrow as Grace runs her fingers along the lines of writing on the note. Gale, our guide, yawns.

"Is this sight reading or what?" I remark.

She turns and narrows her eyes at me. I return the gesture.

TC sees and moves a protective arm around Grace.

"Read on," Ethan Choi says from next to me.

"So," Grace begins, "it is a ransom note. It's to tell us that we're in pretty big trouble. Here it is.

"'Salaam. To be fair, we don't greet you with open arms. But we don't want to be uninviting. We have a proposal for you. We would like to begin by informing you that we have the Kandahar Military Medical Center patient Noor Khan hostage. All we ask in exchange for your patient is a choice of two options. First option: you give us ten million American dollars. We can handle the conversion. Second option: you send Noor's physicians to the little rock in the desert. We will play Buzkashi to settle the scores. If you win, you receive the patient, unharmed. If we win, we behead your doctors both as well as Noor Khan. If you choose, however, not to respect our wishes within two hours, the following consequences will occur.

"'We will fine you for patient negligence through our contacts. We will also ensure that Kandahar Military Medical Center is shut down under charges of assault on patients. If all else fails, we will take down the hospital ourselves. Please do choose an alternative and complete it. Sincerely, Anonymous.'"

Grace bites her lip. "Ten million? The hospital will have a bare minimum left. And a high stakes game of Buzkashi? Do we really want to go there? They must have a team of ten already prepared. Against us?"

Gale snorts. "Buzkashi? Afghani basketball or what?"

"I doubt it," TC says in a warning tone. "We can't pay them the money. The superiors of this place will find out what happened, and we'll be dead. As of now, they know nothing. We five are the only ones who know. Let's keep it that way.

"So, who out of us is off to war?" asks TC.

"Or a sissy bash," I grumble.

"It's far from a sissy bash," Grace frets.

"Well, before you sacrifice yourselves, pray tell what's going down, ma'am." Gale rolls his eyes.

"I played one of these when I was in the military. It was just for fun, but it's honestly a lot worse with goons and gangs, you know," she begins. "Two teams of ten face off in a race slash capture the flag, except on horseback. There's a goat carcass at the start, and the teams have to try and steal it from each other. Whoever tosses the goat across the finish, wins the game for their team. Easy, sure, until you add whips. Every man gets a whip to use in any way, with which you try to dismount the players of the other team. To be honest, I have no idea what kind of weapons people will use out in the desert. There're no rules. Skew a guy off his horse. Slit a stallion's legs. Riddle someone with holes. It's insane." Grace looks worried.

Everyone stares, mouths in an O. I have to say, that's inclusive of me.

"I'd rather play the thing than risk losing my job," TC puts in.

"So, you'd rather die than lose your job?" Gale asks.

"I would," Grace joins in.

"We only have an hour now to find this little rock place," reports Ethan.