Renegade (2013) Read Online Free PDF Page A

men they hunted today were great offenders because they had turned away from their faith to pursue profit instead.
    Moving slowly, holding the binoculars in one hand, Yaqub uncovered the AK-47 with the other. Only a short distance away, Faisal prepared the RPG-7. The rocket launcher would deliver swift death, and Yaqub did not intend a show of mercy. Everyone would die.
    At the bend of the pass, a man appeared. He was young and lean, his face wrapped against the chill breeze that skated through the passage like a hunting hawk. He carried an American-made M16, and Yaqub chose to resent the man even more for that. The Western nations had equipped their allies for years, always turning the Afghan people against each other and against outsiders who did not follow the Western beliefs. Many of the weapons that Yaqub’s warriors carried had been captured during the war with the Russians. Al Qaeda armorers had learned to restore the rifles and keep them in peak condition.
    Yaqub gently pulled the AK-47 into the ready position and flicked off the safety as the man continued his walk down the passage. Twenty meters behind the point man, the rest of the group followed, men and donkeys carrying the goods they intended to sell once across the Pakistani border.
    The men were a mix of young and old. Yaqub was disappointed when he saw no Westerners among them. The men in the passage below were of the Northern Alliance, the collection of Afghan warlords that the Western powers had allied with.
    The Northern Alliance was the weapon that the West had intended to keep aimed at the heart of al Qaeda. They were not friends of the West either, but the Northern Alliance did not like the true path of Islam. That way was too hard for the warlords, and they were weak warriors in Yaqub’s eyes. They were not given to holy pursuits.
    As Yaqub saw it, a man who claimed to be Muslim yet did not act on the war with the West at the first chance offered could only be put to death for failing his sacred duty.
    The men came closer. The man on point never hesitated, but he also did not neglect his duty. His head swung from side to side, but he was tired from marching all night in the cold, and Yaqub’s warriors were well hidden.
    Fifty meters away, Yaqub slid his finger over the trigger and pulled through. The AK-47’s recoil was so slight and the rifle so well balanced that he hardly felt any movement. He fired two rounds at the lead man, watching him drop in his tracks, then shifted the rifle again to pick up other targets as the group broke for cover.
    A few meters away, Faisal lifted the RPG-7 and readied his shot. The rocket lunged from the launcher, straight toward a luckless animal as it fought to get its head against its handler. The man held on to the lead rope as the donkey struggled and the packs on its back beat against it.
    Then they vanished in an explosion that ran a river of fiery destruction in both directions along the passageway for a moment.
    “Faisal!” Yaqub ejected the empty magazine from his assault rifle and shoved a fresh one home. “Do not shoot the donkeys carrying the cargo! Leave those!”
    “Forgive me, Zalmai. I shot too soon.” Faisal laid the rocket launcher aside and picked up his rifle.
    Knowing there was no use remonstrating the man for his mistake, Yaqub instead focused on shooting the caravan survivors. It would not matter if some of them escaped, and he was certain his men would not get them all now, but they were the enemies of his God and he did not want any of them to avoid the divine retribution he was delivering.
    The caravan warriors knew they were in dire straits. They scattered like lambs, none of them attempting to gain control over the others and organize a defense.
    Filled with the familiar bloodlust that fueled him, Yaqub rose to his feet and ran to the edge of the passageway as several of the caravan warriors tried to scale free of the kill box. He fired into them at point-blank range till the