The Deadly Match

by Kishan Paul

  “Sorry, it’s not the nicest of places. The guys will kill me when they find out where I took you, but this is a safe place.” Omar dropped a large duffel onto the bed beside her, unzipped it, and searched through the contents.

  The comment made her pause. “These guys on your team. How many of them are your brothers?”

  He waited a beat before returning to the duffel. “Six.”

  Acid burned her stomach. The team Eddie was so proud of, the same one who would risk their lives for her, were all her boys. A piece of information he’d conveniently left out in his descriptions. She clenched the blanket, shoving aside her anger, and watched Omar work. Right now, she wanted to enjoy her moment with a son she hadn’t seen in almost six years. She thought about the younger version of the man beside her. “How tall are you?”

  He grinned. “Five-eleven the last I checked.”

  The lanky thirteen-year-old who once upon a time used to be all elbows and knees and asked her daily if she thought his nonexistent facial hair had thickened. His upper lip and cheeks were still bare, but its ability to grow was evidenced by the day-old stubble shadowing his jaw. “You never grew the mustache you wanted.”

  He let out an embarrassed chuckle while rummaging through the bag. “I was hoping you’d forgotten that one.”

  “It’s one of my favorite memories. Almost as good as the memory of Nazeem’s daughters crushing on you.”

  His ears turned a lovely shade of red. “They had good taste.”

  Ally fought the urge to tug on his lobe. Instead, she admired the man he’d become. If the cook’s girls thought he was attractive before, they would have been beside themselves if they could see him now. He’d grown not only in height but also in muscle. Back then, his pale complexion was what they had found most attractive. And although she agreed he was handsome, the color of his skin had nothing to do with it. For her, it was other features. Like the unique mix of black and brown in his hair, and when he was out in the sun too much, how streaks of blonde and red would appear. When he concentrated on something, as he was now, how his eyes narrowed and his strong jawline and high cheekbones tensed, making him appear angry, intimidating. But most adorable of all were his ears. They were average size, nothing out of the normal about the way they looked. But when he smiled or laughed, they moved. If he was upset or embarrassed, those same ears turned bright red as they were at the moment.

  “I’m embarrassing you, I’m sorry. It’s hard to believe you’re really here.”

  “I feel the same.” He gave her arm a squeeze and continued going through the supplies piece by piece. “Look all you want. Once this is all done, it will be my turn. But right now, all I’m thinking about is how to keep you safe.”

  As if to prove his point, he pulled out a gun from the bag and inspected it. The insecure boy she remembered had grown into a confident young man, who appeared willing to do whatever necessary for the success of his mission. A mission that, in this case, revolved around helping a child he’d never met.

  Her worries pulled at her. Questions about Jayden and the donor drive the next day. About the boys. The possibility of them getting hurt. So many things could go wrong. And Wassim—the one person who could save Jayden or destroy them all.

  She forced her focus to the things she had control over. Omar laid out more weapons and other electronic equipment across the bed. “How long did it take you to set this all up?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t. I was waiting for the asset to exit Sanaa Khalis’s room when Boss called on the burner and told me about the change in plans.” He inserted a magazine of bullets in a gun before starting up on the next.

  He pulled out a pouch from the bag. “My orders were to remove the asset from the building. And you were with me for the rest, when I made the call in the car. The contact I spoke with gave me the address to this hotel. We’re supposed to wait here until they give me further details. In the meantime, I’m hoping you might be able to help fill in a few of the holes.”

  “I don’t know much. Eddie told me that someone on the team is sharing information with Wassim.”

  He was quiet for a few beats while he pulled out papers from the pouch and scanned the information on them. “Why would he think that?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  He returned the papers to where he found them and unzipped another slot in the pouch. “He must have ruled me out, otherwise I wouldn’t be here with you.” From inside, he retrieved a wad of bills and began to count them. “I trust Boss, and whatever he’s doing is with the purpose of keeping you safe. Did Boss mention anything to you about the person working with Wassim?”

  “No.” Ally turned her attention on her son while he flipped through the bills.

  “Adil has joined up with Wassim.”

  Her heart sank. She thought about the young boy from the compound. He had been so driven, always wanting to be the best, fighting so hard for his father’s affections and praise. “He idolized Sayeed.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Omar answered.

  “Have you tried to talk to Adil?”

  “Razaa did.” His expression hardened. “He made contact with him three months ago. He told him about you and Jay and the help he needed. And as much as he didn’t care about Jay, he made it clear he thought even less of you.”

  “So how do we reach him?”

  “Reach him?” Omar answered her question with one of his own. “Not everyone is reachable. We can’t fix Adil. He’s always been this way, he’s just worse now.”

  She wasn’t ready to write him off. “Maybe he convinced Wassim to take the test.”

  “If he did, it was because he knew you’d show up,” Omar added. “He blames you for the death of his favorite person, Sayeed.”

  “I did kill him. And I don’t blame him.” Acid churned in her stomach at the thought of any of them being hurt because of her. “I was only in your lives for a short time. I don’t deserve any of your loyalty. Wassim was your teacher, and Sayeed adopted you.”

  “Between the two of them and you, there is no contest. Every one of us would choose you.”

  “Adil didn’t choose me.”

  “He was and still is an asshole,” Om snapped. “If we have a leak, it would be because Adil’s got something over them not because of loyalty.”

  “Family means different things to different people.”

  “For us, family means you.” Omar tucked the money in his back pocket and sorted through the clothing inside the duffel. “Do you remember how you used to give us snacks and drinks every afternoon before lunch?” He waited for her to nod before he continued. “Wassim would take them from us as soon as you went back inside. We spent our days having him tell us we were pieces of shit and failures.”

  She winced.

  “Which was one of the many reasons why we adored you and hated him.”

  She grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze as she listened.

  “I used to stand in line even if I wasn’t thirsty or hungry. Because every time when it was my turn, you’d look me in the eyes, say, ‘Good Morning, Omar,’ and talk to me.”

  She leaned her head against his and put an arm around his shoulders as she thought about the scene he described. Her time with the boys had been her mental escape from her miserable reality. A light in her otherwise dark existence. “It was intentional. I wanted to undo a little of the damage he did. You needed to know I saw you and cared about you as an individual not just as a collective.”

  “It worked,” he whispered. “Those meetings, hearing what you had to say, was the high point of my day. No matter how much of an ass I may have been, you managed to notice the one second I was a decent human being and made me feel proud of it. Made me want to be more of whatever you imagined.” Omar shook his head.

  “You were a good kid, Omar. One who’s grown into a good man.”

  An emotion she couldn’t read flashed across his face. “I’m not sure I agree, but what I do know is�
��” He rubbed his hands on his jeans. “Most people saw me as a burden. You didn’t. You actually saw me.”

  “I still do.” Her gaze locked with his through the foggy mirror facing them. “And I’m very proud of you.”

  He rose to his feet and returned to the duffel. “And I can’t wait to quote you when I’m back with the guys.”

  Omar laid a set of clothes on her lap before creating his own stack. “How do you feel about using a gun?”

  She picked up one of the weapons on the bed beside her and inspected it. “I’ve had a lot of practice. I’m a good shot.”

  “Good to know, but that’s not what I asked.”

  She shrugged and put it back on the comforter. “I will use it if I need to, but not against one of my own.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t have to. But there’s a little boy back home needing his mother to stay alive. And if you don’t protect yourself, he won’t ever see her again.”

  She accepted the sandals he handed her, placing them on her pile of clothes. “You’ve been around Eddie too long.”

  “I have.” He studied the tiled floor. “But I’ve thought of you as my mother long before Boss showed up. I know what it feels like to believe your mother’s dead. Don’t allow your little boy to grow up the same way.”

  His words were spoken matter-of-factly, and he continued to sort through the supplies as if his confession wasn’t painful to utter. Her chest tightened.

  “I and the others need our mother to stay alive too. We need her alive so she can tell us how we are better human beings than we really are. Speaking of which…” He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “I was supposed to give you this.”

  When she unfolded the paper, it was to gaze upon an image of six men. Some were seated on a sofa while a few were on folding chairs, all staring ahead. Each held a gaming controller in his hand, and although the print didn’t show it, had it been a wider shot, she knew she’d find a television screen as the source of the attention. Her chest constricted. They looked so familiar and yet so different.

  “There was an envelope in the bike with this picture, keys, and instructions for the car.” Omar sat down beside her. “It’s a pretty recent pic. I guess Boss wanted you to have it.”

  Plates of food and bottles of beer were scattered across the coffee table in front of them.

  The tallest one in the center positioned himself at the edge of his seat, his elbows resting on his long legs while he leaned forward. She ran her finger over his face and the beard covering his jaw and chin. “Aryan,” she whispered.

  Omar grinned. “He, Raz, Tay, and I are typically the ones on the field. The others, like this one, are usually behind the scenes making sure we don’t get hurt.”

  She flinched as Eddie’s lies continued to multiply. “Razaa is on the field?”

  “He’s really good. Almost as good as Tay and Ari, both of whom can talk just about anyone into doing anything. Do you know who he is?”

  Ally surveyed the man he pointed at. His black messy hair hung long over his eyes and covered his ears. She leaned in for a closer look. The pale skin made his lips even redder, the bottom one he bit on while he concentrated on the game. In certain ways, he reminded her of Umber, the son Sayeed killed all those years ago. After a while she shook her head. “No.”

  “Imagine him a foot shorter, about thirty pounds heavier. Oh, and whiny about everything from the weather, to the food, to fill in the blank.”

  She grinned at the description. “Saiyan.”

  “The one and only. Sai still whines way too much and still believes he’ll die of skin cancer every time he’s out in the sun. He’s our cyber geek. As much of an odd ball as he is, he’s a technology genius and sees things the rest of us don’t. Which is why he’s our eyes when we’re on a mission. We keep his awkward ass locked away in the computer room. He was the one monitoring Adil and the other potential threats while you were in the building today.”

  “Musa.” Ally pressed her finger against the man seated beside Saiyan. His head was shaved bald and his beard well-trimmed.

  “Moose. He’s our sniper. Today when you met with Wassim’s sister? He was in the building across the street with his rifle aimed at her head.”

  A shudder ripped through her at the image of Musa pointing a gun, and with it came the realization he must have pointed it at others in the past and pulled the trigger.

  “And there’s our pretty boy, Tay. If our mission involves getting women to share their secrets, he’s the one we send.”

  Ally surveyed the person he pointed at, his hair styled, his skin shaved clean of facial hair. Tahir leaned back in the sofa with his legs stretched out on the table, watching but not really playing. She’d considered him the most laid back of the group, and from the looks of things, he still was.

  “You should see him in a dress.” He chuckled.

  She tilted her head and watched him. “And you?”

  “I look horrible in a dress.” The soft pink blushing his ears deepened under her watch. He rubbed the back of his neck. “But, outside of Moose, I’m the best marksman,” he added with a grin.

  She noticed not only the pride in his words but also the implications. “Eddie’s turned you into killers.”

  Omar’s face sobered. “Sayeed trained us to be killers. Boss gave us a chance to be better. To save people and sometimes, in order to help innocents, we have to kill the ones threatening their lives.”

  Ally regarded the images of the men. They’d grown, developed their own identities and their own lives. Lives she knew very little about. Lives Eddie played a role in molding. “As noble as it sounds, was this really your choice or his?”

  Omar laughed. “You can’t blame him for this one. We each chose this path on our own. We each have our own stories, and once this is all done, I’m sure we’ll all tell you our stories. Just know that Boss rescued me when I was in a low place.”

  He paused and stared at his hands.

  Ally twined her fingers in his and gave him an encouraging squeeze.

  He shrugged. “I owe him my life.”

  “Your Boss is also is a very convincing liar.”

  Although she hadn’t meant it in a harsh way, from the way Omar stiffened, he received it as such. “His lies serve a purpose. They are to protect people, not to hurt them. He saved my life more than once.” Omar cleared his throat. “And he’s trying to protect yours now.”

  They sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Omar’s loyalty to Eddie was evident, and he had every reason to be. Eddie had taken care of her sons when she couldn’t. “How are the rest of your brothers?”

  “All good. They chose different paths, different careers, but we keep in contact with some of them.”

  “Do they know I’m alive?”

  His shoulder stiffened. “Probably not. We don’t talk about you.”

  Ally flinched at his words but tried to hide the sting. Before she could push further, the cell phone he’d left on the dresser began to ring. He jumped from his seat, grabbed it by the second ring, and put it to his ear. The person on the other line must have said what he wanted to hear because he stared at her and nodded. “I’m listening.”

  Ally tried to make sense of the conversation in which he said very little. Omar emptied the remaining contents of the duffel and searched inside until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small black zippered pouch and unzipped it. She wasn’t sure if it was because of what the person on the phone said or the items in his hand, but his brows lowered, and his gaze met hers.

  He tensed. “Understood.” After a stiff nod, he handed the phone to her. “He needs to talk to you.”

  Ally pressed the device to her ear.

  “Hello, Alisha,” a man announced. “Let me start off by apologizing about your accommodations. It was the best I could do with such little time.”

  She eyed the weapons, electronics, and clothes Omar spread out across the bed. “Th
ank you for your help. Who are you?”

  “My name is not important. I am a friend of Edil’s, and I promised him I would keep you safe. I intend to keep my word because if I don’t, I’m pretty sure he will find me and kill me. Does that sufficiently address my motives?”

  Before she could respond, another phone rang. Omar pulled it out of his back pocket and walked in the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

  “I intend to help get you home safely, but before I can, there are things you should know and a proposition you might be interested in.”

  Ally’s brows narrowed. “What kind of proposition?”

  “One Edil will not be keen on you agreeing to.”

  She glanced at the still closed bathroom door. “I’m listening.”

  “His plan has you boarding a train out of Mumbai in a few hours. You’ll find the tickets in a black pouch in the bottom of the bag. The choice is yours. Take the ticket and go home, or stay and get what you want.”

  “Which is?” She pulled the pouch in question toward her.

  “Wassim Thabit. Alive and in person. But before you say yes or no, you need to hear the rest.”

  Ally gripped the pouch with the train and plane tickets in one hand, which would have her heading to the States the next day. Anger burned through her not just because of all the lies spewed, but also because of the lives manipulated in the process.

  When Omar returned from the bathroom, she tossed the tickets at his feet. “You weren’t going to take me to the drive tomorrow.”

  “No.” He avoided her stare and retrieved the papers she’d thrown. “My orders are to board a train with you out of Mumbai tonight.”

  Omar seated himself beside her on the bed, the tension building in him palpable. He was ready and braced for the fight. The sight of it cooled her anger a few degrees. “Before you tell me it’s the right thing to do…” She reached over and grabbed his hand. “The man on the phone told me that you’re the leak, and he also told me why.”