witherspoon woke up -- the sun was in her eyes --- the mountains around her sloped down to a dusty plains.... she heard distant sounds of a herd and children..... she lay at the dais where stood the bamiyan buddhas before they were dinamited by the Taliban..... she remembered not how she got there --- she started playing music on an i-pod she found on her person.... the first thing she remembered after mentally breaking out of dreamland where she was slinging a gun before a mirror testing her revolver gunslinging speed was something a wise frenchman once told her, that the bamiyan buddhas weren't buddhas built after the time of the Buddha but actually many, many thousands of years older than that and built to symbolize the differing ratio of sizes of the different races of men that were, like the cyclops and giants, and those two races, yet to come........
witherspoon arose, while listening to her music........ her memory came in jaded patches...... yesterday she was with a tribe in southern afghanistan near pakistan...... a Taliban, Omar Shariff, had given her a small black gadget and told her to run to a shack and throw it through the window - she threw it through the win-
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two minutes after she threw it, she had run well away from the shack, as Omar Shariff had told her, and a standard u.s. fighter jet screamed towards them and launched a bomb....
'engage target,' said major bevett to his wingman on the fighter jet called in by the radio waves of the black gadget witherspoon had tossed into the shack
'target engaged, firing in three, two, one - whoosh,' replied major kelly
'shack!, target destroyed,' said major bevett as he watched the small shack explode with the 500 pound paveway missile they had launched onto it
nice work ms. woods said Omar Shariff, then he looked at his peers and said in Pashtun: 'the Americans are gonna get a nice surprise when they find out they just killed two of their own,' ........... to which his peers laughed ..... they had managed to capture two G.I.s and tied them up and left them in the shack and then threw in the black gadget to call in a U.S. airstrike -- the gadgets were bought up from tribal villagers in Pakistan that were offered them by the CIA in order to assassinate bad guys
...............
woods/witherspoon, again alone with her memories at the feet of where once stood the bamiyan buddhas, began to forage for firewood and build a fire, she checked her revolver, it was loaded, she needn't worry, everybody in the country loved her, across a divided patchwork of relationships amongst different villagers and roving bands, all heavily involved in heroin/opium production........... she remembered another trying night, some two weeks ago:
she was with a Taliban crew in Kandahar...... the evening started nicely, roasting a spit pig over an open fire, drinking hot russian tea...... listening to a few rare strands of local tribal music, she remembered how during the times of the Taliban in the year or two leading up to 9/11 -- when Bin Laden had his base here, how music had been outlawed by the Taliban........ she was given a cup to drink, she tried it -- later, in the following days, she realized the daze that had come about thereafter probably was due to the contents of the cup......... Fatima Marshallah, the 3rd wife of Omar Musharriff had given it to her, she was sure Fatima was jealous of her as Omar Musharriff had started plying his amorous attentions on her, taking her one night under the moonlight, briefly ------- 'take this sister,' said Fatima to her, offering her the cup........ she put it to her lips and bravely drank..... in fact it was a mixture of Opium and the fungus that the Viking Beserker's used to drink before going into battle along with a tiny shot of rum smuggled in from Xinjiang, China........ later that night, after the spit pig fire... the crew she was with strolled a short distance to an embankment, after getting their fill of pigmeat, and took up positions on a ledge placed slightly above their target,
'commence operations men,' said the leader Omar Musharriff to his men
a long and bitter firefight began, Wood's Taliban were fighting with machine guns and shoulder launched rocket grenades, the enemy were canadians, at one point, Woods, although under the influence of drugs, was lucid enough to stay awake, walk around a little and observe the combat....... Mushariff came up to her from behind and put his strong arms around her and held her own hands on her machine gun, whatever ceremonial vestiges it had had until that point were gone as, with Musharriff's help, she blasted a number of bullets into the chest of a charging Canadian, all but making his body explode in a twisting and bizarre airborne gymnastic display
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