Gravedigger by Mark Terry Page B

water. He had been taught how to escape. He had been taught how to behave during interrogations. He had even undergone training in responses to sexual assault during captivity.
    He had not been taught how to respond to being called an infidel by a Muslim religious leader.
    Carefully, he said, “An infidel is traditionally defined as someone without faith. I am not an infidel.”
    “What is your faith?” Osama bin Laden asked. Khan looked impatient.
    “A Christian,” Derek said, understanding, unfortunately, that this might be the wrong answer.
    Osama bin Laden spoke with Mullah Omar for a moment, who responded. After the exchange, Osama bin Laden looked at Khan. “What was the name of the organization your two intruders claimed they were with?”
    Khan spat out, “The International Health Alliance.”
    Bin Laden turned to study Derek. “A man and a woman. Do you know them?”
    Derek shrugged. “Maybe. What were their names?”
    “Johnston and Shoshan.”
    With a shake of his head, Derek said, “No. I was with two other men. John Clark and Gunter Schwartz. John’s Canadian. Gunter is German. They’re both physicians. We were at the WHO refugee camp. We were called to check out some patients at Zin. We just got there and somebody attacked and started shooting. We got separated. I started walking, but I got turned around.”
    “You are a doctor?” Bin Laden asked.
    “A professor. A scientist. I run laboratory tests. My job is to see if there are pollutants in the food and water supplies. Sometimes there are.” He told them about how the pesticides and fertilizers were poisoning the well at Garha. They seemed to believe what he was saying. Conveniently, it was the truth.
    He didn’t know if the Mullah spoke English. When the conversation went on in English for any length of time, the man seemed to lose interest.
    Osama bin Laden turned and spoke to Mullah Omar. The conversation went on for a while. The Mullah seemed angry, but then again, everything the Mullah said seemed angry. Osama bin Laden always seemed calm and pleasant. So much so that Derek didn’t trust it. He suspected Osama bin Laden was the scary one of the three, the chess player planning a dozen moves ahead in whatever game he thought he was participating in.
    Finally the Sheik turned back to Derek. “You will test our water supply.”
    “I would be glad to.”
    Osama bin Laden nodded and gestured at Khan. “He will take you to the well.”
    “Of course.”
    Khan got to his feet. Derek followed. Osama bin Laden handed Derek his rucksack. Derek considered asking for his weapon back, but decided not to push his luck. The Mullah stared at him with his one eye with unhidden malevolence.
    Making a half-bow, Derek thanked them for their hospitality, and followed Khan out of the house. The Arab who manned the door bowed them silently out of the house.
    All in all, thought Derek, an unnerving experience that could have gone far worse.

    The village’s pump was not far from the main house. Like Zin, this one was an electric pump. Taking out the chemical test kit, Derek had Khan run the water for a minute, then performed a test on the water. Glancing around, he saw an area just outside of the village where boxes and crates on pallets were being stored. Derek very much wanted to get a look at those.
    The water had some contamination, but not too bad. Derek showed the test tube to Khan and said, “There’s some chemical contamination. It might be from pesticides or fertilizers or perhaps you have diesel or other chemicals stored? The containers may be leaking.”
    Khan glared at him. Derek had the distinct feeling Khan didn’t buy his story. The man’s English was also fairly rudimentary. The man just seemed to seethe. Derek wondered if Khan knew that all his men back at his camp were dead, or if he had just not heard from them.
    “Yes? Let’s go.” Derek pointed toward the fields of maize. “Let’s start over there.” It wasn’t the direction