Chapters (60)
- Note to Readers
- Dedication
- Discover the Series You Can’t Put Down …
- PROLOGUE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Other Books By
- About the Publisher
Holt took up the baton from there, and was more forthcoming about the events that had led to the launch of the NEO volunteer mission and their spectacular, if short-lived, run of success getting people out of Kabul. Both Madison and Father Bugnolio were full of praise for their accomplishments, while Aziz in particular was full of questions. He was deeply worried about his brother and his family, who were loyal Muslims but deeply opposed to what they regarded as the reactionary jihadist ideologies of the Taliban. The last time he’d spoken to his brother they were trying to get a place on the very last plane out; he’d heard nothing since.
‘Wish I could help you there, bud,’ Holt said. ‘A lot of people were in the same situation.’
‘I admit I was tempted to leave too, at first,’ said Father Bugnolio. ‘I knew about the evacuations, of course, but I resisted, feeling I should remain behind to mind my duties. What shepherd would abandon his flock to the wolves? But the chaos and violence of the ensuing persecution of Christians made me realise what little I could do, and I came to question the wisdom of my choice. Even then I was still undecided, until I was pursued through the streets by a gang of their fighters who had identified me as a Catholic priest. Perhaps if I had thought to remove my cassock before venturing outside …’
‘That would’ve definitely been a smart move, mate,’ said Scraggs. ‘Look how we’re decked out. Imagine if we were to go wandering about Kabul in British or Yank army uniform, how that’d go down.’
‘Talk about a red rag to a bull, man,’ Nielsen agreed.
‘Anyhow,’ the priest continued, ‘I managed to evade them but I knew they would reappear at any moment and catch me. That was when a Jeep appeared, as if by Divine intervention, and a voice called, ‘Father! Get your behind in the car, quick!’
‘Actually I might have used slightly stronger language,’ Madison admitted. ‘We could see he was in trouble.’
‘Indeed I was. Which is why I can say with all conviction that she and her friends saved my life.’