Spy # 13

The Kiss Of Tomorrow

In a flash, she grabbed her scarf and outer clothes, leaving only her inner bra on. Her body was drenched in sweat as she trembled with fear. She lifted her legs and climbed toward Jason’s location. Twisting her clothes, she handed them to the man who was avoiding her gaze. Holding her breath, she gasped for air as she reached toward his hands.

When she accidentally stepped on the rough edge of the wall, she winced. “Hey, how can you help me if you won’t even look at me?” she murmured.

Slowly, he turned to face her and accepted the white shirt and scarf. Jane’s delicate, fair complexion and petite figure made her strikingly beautiful. Her waist measured twenty-four inches, and her smile brought light even to the darkest place, like color blooming from the depths of a dried well.

Though uncomfortable, the mysterious man had no choice but to hold her hands firmly. With determination, they worked together to climb upward. At last, they reached the mouth of the well, where the morning sunlight poured in, casting hope into the darkness.

“Hold my hand and don’t let go.”

It was 6:08 a.m. on Jason’s watch. Exhausted and hungry after losing sleep the night before, he used the last of his strength to pull the stranger to safety. He had only been in Afghanistan for five days, serving as an Air Force jumpmaster trainer. His barracks were thirty minutes away from their location.

His body overruled his authority; every muscle cried out for food and rest. Finally, Jane stood safely above the well. Despite her beauty—her bright smile and expressive eyes—she looked distressed. She searched Jason’s face for comfort, while he avoided her gaze and reached into his military pants for a small card.

“When can we leave? I’m hungry,” Jane asked weakly.

“I’m starving, sir,” she sobbed. “I lost my bag, and I don’t have any money.”

Before Jason could respond, a thunderous explosion silenced them. A grenade blast erupted nearby, shaking the town. The attack came from Al-Qaeda, a terrorist group opposing the Afghan government. Jane shut her eyes and covered her ears as gunfire echoed through the air. In fear, she clung to Jason, and he held her tightly in return.

Amid the chaos, five armed men in long black robes approached. With rifles slung over their shoulders, they seized Jane and blindfolded her with a scarf. She collapsed under their grip, too terrified to speak.

Jason searched desperately for an opportunity to free her. The armed men mocked him with cold, fearless stares, ready to pull the trigger if he made a move. But Jason acted swiftly. With calculated force, he struck them down one by one.

“To die is to save,” he muttered, prepared to sacrifice himself for a stranger.

His efforts succeeded—Jane was free.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, she embraced him tightly. But hunger weakened them both. They had not eaten, and finding food seemed impossible. Determined to survive, they hurried through the bleak city until the landscape opened into Afghanistan’s mountainous terrain, filled with flowers and towering peaks.

Their hunger intensified, yet no shop would accept the small card Jason carried.

Soon, an old jeepney passed by and suddenly stopped in front of them. Inside were Afghan women who appeared kind despite being strangers. The driver wore a headscarf, and though she spoke in her native language, her passenger attempted to translate in broken English. Through gestures and simple words, they managed to understand one another.

The journey along steep, rocky roads was rough and dangerous—more challenging than any airborne mission Jason had faced. Deep valleys stretched beside them, both breathtaking and terrifying. Waterfalls shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the beauty of Afghan tradition and landscape.

Jane soon fell asleep on Jason’s shoulder. Despite his hunger and exhaustion, he adjusted himself to make her comfortable.

The driver glanced at him. “Sir, are you an army officer from another country?”

“Yes,” Jason replied.

Silence filled the vehicle.

Suddenly, Jason noticed a group of armed men in fatigue uniforms ahead. His instincts sharpened.

“Please stop,” he said urgently.

“Is there a problem?” the driver asked.

Without answering, Jason opened the door and stepped out. From a distance, he recognized one of the men—an Air Force colleague.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Jane called out, startled awake.

Jason shot her a firm look, silently telling her to stay calm. She understood immediately.

He walked toward the men, now a hundred meters away. Approaching a man with black hair, tanned skin, and sunglasses, Jason studied his posture and gestures. With his trained eye, he knew there was no mistake—he recognized him.