A/N: This is an idea that came to me while I was stuck in concentration ca...I mean, English class. I did a bit of research, and decided to make something out of it.
Nadira is the main character of this story. Her name means "rare, singular, uncommon." The meaning does play a subtle part in her life, and her role in this story.
For fear of making severe errors, I will have Nadira's words typed in English, so you can understand. I apologize for any errors I may make, as this is an unfamiliar topic for me.
Enjoy.
Veil: Chapter One
Puppet:
A puppet. That's all I am to my people, to my father. A puppet. They took me, they made me carry this explosive burden. They want me dead. They want the Americans dead. They figured, why not do both at once? I am just a sacrifice "for the greater good." This is the greater good. I cannot fail.
The sand burned beneath my bare feet as I walked though the desert, every painful step reminding me of my mission. The wires, wrapped around my body and hidden beneath my black abaya, were my life. I was giving my life for my people, and the desert was not going to let me forget it.
The base came into sight, with several small teams of American soldiers guarding it. Along with the faint sounds of chatter and static, the roar of gunfire cut through the desert, nearly drowning out the wind. I stopped, chewing my lip as I thought of the plan. Fear gnawed at the wires on my chest, my heart pounded in my ears. My mind went blank as I started walking again. I knew they would catch me before I got too close. I can be a helpless refugee, not a murderer. I can be innocent until the time is right. They'll trust me. They have to. I closed my eyes as I got closer. It wasn't long before an American spotted me. He shouted out to his team, and they swarmed me in seconds. Their words swirled around me, blurring through my ears. I shook my head at them, shrugging helplessly. One of them grabbed my arm, pulling me after them. We entered through a gate, passing by a large hangar, and dozens of desert-coloured vehicles. There were many more soldiers here, staring after me, curiosity embedded on their faces. I hung my head, trying to look innocent. No amount of lies and innocent movement could hide their eyes, watching my every move. Do they suspect?
Soon, I was brought before another group of soldiers. One man looked up at me, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.
"Who are you? What's your name?" he asked, and I gasped in surprise.
"Nadira." I whispered. "What is your name?"
Ignoring my question, he looked back at the Rangers, and they began their English babble. An interpreter.
I sighed, wondering if I could trigger the explosives now, or if it would be better to wait. Before I could make up my mind, the man looked back at me.
"How old are you? Where did you come from? Why did you come here?" he asked, no emotion in his questioning. I searched my mind for a good cover story, praying that no-one would catch on.
"I am...15. I...I came from Girdi..." I murmured. My fingers moved under my clothing, ready to detonate. The bomb was powerful, I knew, and would kill a lot of people. Including me. I hesitated, my fingers wrapped around the detonator. I'll do this, Father. I will. I stopped, fear pounding in me again.
"Why are you here?" shouted the interpreter. I shuddered, the fear over taking me. The ground rushed up to meet me, and the world faded to black.
The strings have been cut, I am not a puppet, and I have failed.
Another A/N: This is an intro chapter, I guess. It's pretty short, but the next chapter should be longer, if this chapter does well. This is not my best, at all, and I apologize for any cultural or geographical mistakes that may have occurred. This is my first Ranger story, and I know very little about Afghanistan.
Review, please?