Scorpion: A Covert Ops Novel

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Tom Wilkes spent the last ninety-minutes driving west on the M41 Pamir Highway from Dushanbe to Khorugh. He gripped the steering wheel two-handed as he traversed the Land Rover Defender 90 over the rough, weathered surface of what passed for a road and maneuvered around chunks of rock that had fallen from the overhead mountain passes.

The Pamir Highway was over a thousand years old and the second highest altitude highway in the world. Once a vital part of the ancient Silk Road trade route, the majority of the highway’s length was narrow and unpaved and was heavily damaged from landslides and erosion. The highway was mostly empty, but near the larger villages or trading posts, vehicular, pack-animal, and pedestrian traffic picked up. Tajikistan didn’t have a booming tourist industry, but the highway was a must for sightseers.

Wilkes had made the drive twice before and had previously enjoyed the scenic view of the Pamir Mountains and the streaming Panj River, but he drove with urgency this morning and found that watching the unending brown and tan fields and the sloping mountains passing by was mind numbingly monotonous this time.

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