by DV Berkom
“No.”
“When you told Director La Pointe that you thought the videos had been tampered with, how did she react?”
“Like you would expect. She became angry and insisted that everyone who had access to the office be questioned. In the end, our search was inconclusive. Everyone had an alibi, and like I said, most didn’t know about the video.”
“Could you show me the other cameras?”
“Certainly.”
Kadeem led her to the other security cameras, and stopped at two of the tents with families who had contact with the missing children. Neither of them had known the children were missing until camp personnel came by to see if they’d noticed anything suspicious. Kadeem then brought her back to the entrance to the camp. There’d been no sign of Jinn.
“I’m sure she’s around. The camp is fairly large, but the fence surrounds the entire compound, so unless she left through the front gate she’s still here somewhere.”
“I’ll check with the guard. If she didn’t pass through there, I’ll take another look around.”
“I need to set up a conference call for the director, or I’d be happy to help. Perhaps when I’m finished?”
“Thank you. I’ll give it a shot. If I don’t have any luck, I’ll find you.”
Kadeem nodded and checked his watch. “I’m late. So sorry to leave you like this.” He hurried back to the admin tent, and Leine headed toward the entrance to talk to the guard.
“Hey, lady,” a soft voice called to her from behind the cantina. Leine changed direction and walked toward the sound, wondering who the voice could belong to. When she reached the edge of the tent, a young boy stepped in her path.
“You are looking for Jinn?”
“Yes.”
“Come with me.”
He slipped between the tents, and Leine hurried to keep up. When he finally slowed enough to catch him, she took his arm and stopped him from going any farther.
“Wait a second. Where are you taking me?”
“You are Jinn’s friend, yes?”
“That’s right. Do you know where she is?”
The young boy nodded, his face solemn.
“Why isn’t she here? Is she hiding?”
“There was a bad man she was afraid of, and she asked me to find her another way out of the camp.” He pointed across the compound to a stretch of chain link fencing bracketing a section of the camp that appeared to be the maintenance area. “It’s there.”
Leine followed him to the edge of the camp where he pointed at a segment of the fence near a padlocked gate. Without his direction, she would never have noticed the metal links had been cut through, creating a section that didn’t quite match up. Once stretched, the opening would be large enough to accommodate someone without leaving an obvious gap in the fence.
“Jinn went through here?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you where she was going?”
He shook his head. “I told her she should wait until midnight, when everyone else is asleep, but she was scared and didn’t want to. She asked me to find you and tell you she was going back to the car.”
Leine fished a few dinars from her satchel and handed them to the little boy. “What’s your name?”
“Ahmed,” he said, suddenly shy. “Jinn granted me a wish before she left.”
“Did she? That was nice of her, wasn’t it?”
“Is she really a jinn? Can she help me and my sister and brother go home?”
“You know, I’m not sure. But I do know she’s very clever and can do just about anything, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”
That brought a smile from the boy. Leine tousled his hair and thanked him for his help, before retracing her steps back to the entrance.
LEINE CHECKED WITH the guard at the gate, but Jinn hadn’t come through in either direction. She thanked him and walked out to the lot where the Land Cruiser was one of only three vehicles left. Rami was asleep behind the wheel with the engine running. Leine knocked on the window, startling him awake. He rolled his window down and she glanced in the backseat. It was empty.
“Have you seen Jinn?” she asked.
“No. Is everything all right?”
Alarm bells went off in her head as Leine skirted the SUV and climbed in the passenger seat. “She was supposedly on her way back here. Something spooked her inside the camp and she left through a back way. We need to find her before it gets dark.”
The sun had set sometime before, leaving dark orange and purple streaks across the sky that were on their way to becoming a deep indigo. Clusters of stars laced the horizon, adding to the ethereal beauty. Rami put the Toyota in gear and paralleled the camp along one side and then halfway down the other.
When they reached the maintenance gate she instructed Rami to pull over. She got out to search for footprints, but the earth had been trampled to hard pack by more than one set of prints, and she couldn’t determine if any of them belonged to Jinn. She checked farther from the fence and noticed a set of tire tracks leading away from camp into the desert. Whether Jinn’s footprints had been obliterated by design or by the erosive qualities of the wind, she didn’t know. There was indeed a light breeze blowing—it seemed the wind always blew in the Sahara—but not strong enough to eliminate someone’s footprints that quickly.
She got back inside the Land Cruiser. “There’s a set of tire tracks leading away from the camp, but I didn’t see any prints that could have been Jinn’s.”
“Are we in the right place?”
Leine nodded. “This is where she exited the camp.”
“Then we must go in search of her.”
They drove around the other half of the camp, but there was no trace of the girl.
“Let’s go to the back gate and start from there,” Leine said.
Using set coordinates as a starting point, Rami drove a pattern, starting from the fence and fanning out in each direction, going as far as they thought Jinn would be able to travel in the amount of time they estimated she had. They followed several promising tracks but ultimately had no luck. By now, night had fallen. The half-moon helped illuminate the landscape, but not enough for Leine.
“Should we circle back to see if she’s returned to the camp?” Rami asked.
“Not just yet. Let’s search a bit more before we throw in the towel.”
Where the hell did that kid go? Leine’s stomach twisted at the thought that the people who had been after her in the medina had somehow snatched her from underneath her nose. Had they followed them from Tripoli? She and Rami had both watched their six and didn’t notice anyone behind them. That was the thing about the desert—it was difficult to track someone without being seen. She drummed her fingers on the armrest in frustration.
Damn kid. She should never have gone off on her own.
A bright flash erupted outside Rami’s window, catching Leine’s eye. She turned to see what had caused it and realized too late what it was. A percussive blast rocked the earth beneath them. The Land Cruiser launched into the air, flipped a quarter turn, and slammed back down, hard, onto the desert sand.
11
LEINE OPENED HER eyes to slits and tried to take a deep breath but only managed to cough. Smoke filled the cab. Combined with the crushing rigidity of the seatbelt across her chest made it hard to breathe. Shifting light caught her attention and she swiveled her head. A line of flames leaped and snapped nearby.
What the hell happened?
Ears ringing, she became aware of a dull ache drilling her head, and she felt her temple to assess the damage. Her fingers came away wet. A head wound. She did a quick inventory but didn’t find other significant damage.
The vehicle she’d been riding in had turned over. This she gathered from her position hanging upside down from her seatbelt. The SUV was tipped at an angle and rested on its partially caved-in roof, which now served as the floor. She scanned the cab. Rami lay in a ball in the corner, out cold or dead. Judging by the angle of h
is neck, she assumed the latter. The memory of what had happened surfaced and she snapped back to the present.
The Land Cruiser was attacked. You need to get out. NOW.
Bracing herself with her forearm, she unbuckled the clasp and half fell, half slid onto the roof. She sucked in another breath and broke out in a deep, hacking cough.
“Rami,” she managed, trying to quell the coughing fit. She dragged herself to him and felt his neck for a pulse. There wasn’t one.
Something moved in her periphery and she glanced out what was left of Rami’s window. Silhouetted by moonlight, two men with rifles spread out and crept toward her, stalking the Toyota.
A millisecond later, the staccato beat of machine gun fire split the night, the rounds thudding against the Toyota and kicking up sand. Leine backed up fast and rolled out through the broken window on the passenger side of the SUV. Pain shot through her and she clutched her arm. She must have grazed it when she pushed through the glass. She reached in her waistband and slid her pistol free.
Not an effective deterrent against a machine gun. She needed something bigger.
Ignoring the pain, she flipped onto her stomach and low-crawled her way to the rear section of the Land Cruiser. The gunmen kept up the barrage of rounds, but the vehicle and the topography worked in her favor. She reached the cargo area of the SUV and kicked in the spidered glass, making a hole in the window big enough to push her arm through. She looked inside, hoping to see where the case with the submachine gun had landed, but it was too dark. She groped along the inside, searching for the MP5 case.
The rounds were getting closer. If she didn’t find it soon, she’d have to use the pistol. She could always play dead and shoot one by surprise, but the other gunman would bury a bullet in her before she could get them both. She still had the knife, but that required close combat and she’d only be able to take one of them with her.
The gunfire intensified. Black dots floated in her periphery as she strained to reach farther inside the cargo compartment, ignoring the glass cutting into her side. Then her fingertips brushed something hard. Stretched to the breaking point, she gripped the handle of a gun case and yanked it through the window.
The MP5. She ripped open the case and pulled out the submachine gun. There was a full magazine in the case with it, and she jacked it into the well. One mag only meant thirty rounds. The extra mags were somewhere in the crushed cargo area, and she didn’t have time to find them. Rolling onto her back, Leine planted her feet and pushed herself toward the front of the SUV, where the sand and the vehicle’s position made for natural cover. One of the gunmen shouted in Arabic that someone from the Toyota was still alive. The second one answered in the affirmative, unwittingly giving her his location.
He was close.
Wincing from the lacerations on her arm and side and fighting to stay conscious from the loss of blood from the head wound, she rolled onto her stomach and crawled up the sandy rise. At the crest of the dune she made a shallow divot in the sand to prop the gun’s barrel. She would have preferred a higher position, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
The gunmen had stopped firing, telling her they were either reloading or surrounding the Land Cruiser.
She bet on both.
Something moved to her left. She swiveled and aimed.
There. Head down, a dark figure ran toward the Toyota.
Leine tracked him and put him down with two three-round bursts, cutting short a grunt of surprise before he dropped. She swept the gun in a wide arc, scanning the darkness beyond. Adrenaline surged through her, heightening her senses. The ringing in her ears had eased enough that she caught the sound of footsteps behind her.
Drawing on her last reserves of energy, she pivoted and rolled, bringing the gun with her. She’d have to time her bursts. Too soon, and he’d take cover and return fire. Too late, and he’d get the drop on her. A second dose of adrenaline kicked in, ratcheting up her heart rate. She took a deep breath to calm herself before she pulled the slack out of the trigger. A whisper of sound told her he was near the edge of the SUV, on the downside of the rig. A moment later the tip of his gun appeared—a second after that, his head. She fired. The assailant’s gun hit the sand before he did, half of his skull obliterated.
Rounds peppered the ground next to her. Shit. A third gunman. White-hot pain speared her upper arm as she jackknifed forward and rocketed down the slope, landing hard on the other side of the dead gunman. There was a brief pause in the gunfire and she dove behind the Land Cruiser, rolled to a crouch, and waited. The gunman didn’t follow.
Her body coiled tight and in full fight mode, Leine waited and listened, straining to hear where he’d gone. Her breath came fast, and she worked to calm the thudding in her ears.
The telltale scrape of shoe over sand told her he was nearby. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting sound be her guide. When she reopened them she knew where he was.
She inched back toward the cargo area, pausing at the corner of the tailgate to listen. The gunman was above her on the other side of the rise, waiting for her to make a move.
How many rounds did she fire? She’d lost track. There had to be close to six left. She’d have to make them count.
Keeping the upended Toyota between her and the gunman, Leine picked up a rock and crept along the rise, using the vehicle for support. Black spots obscured her vision. She blinked to clear them but realized she was fading fast. Too much blood loss, or shock setting in—maybe both. When she reached the edge of the SUV she lobbed the stone over the chassis to the other side, where it landed with a thud near her last position.
She rounded the corner of the Land Cruiser. The gunman had his back to her and was edging toward the front bumper. Leine leaned against the wheel well to steady her aim and fired. The bullets peppered the man’s back. His body went rigid and he toppled face-first to the ground.
Scanning for threats, Leine shot him again to make sure he was dead. With one last burst of energy, she did the same with the other two gunmen before her legs gave out and she sank to the ground.
What the hell? She leaned against the wrecked Land Cruiser, unable to move as the adrenaline ebbed and exhaustion took over. Her wounds demanded attention, but she was just too damned tired.
Obviously she’d lost a lot of blood. She glanced at her arm, where she’d felt the worst pain during the firefight. Blood soaked her sleeve.
“Shit,” she said aloud, and leaned her head back. Good job, Leine. Where the hell was a medic when you needed one?
Oh, yeah. That’s right. I’m out in the middle of the fucking desert.
Images of Santa and April floated through her mind, and she wondered who would find her body. Correction: bodies. There’d be five, including Rami. Sadness washed over her at the thought of Rami’s death. He was one of the good ones.
It was hours before daylight. I’ll bleed out by then. Especially if the bullet or the shrapnel or whatever had nicked an artery. She wished she had her phone so she could leave Santa and her daughter a goodbye video.
Could you at least make an effort? The voice in her head had Santa written all over it.
“Shut the hell up.”
There was no response.
Goddammit. This was so not how she was planning to die.
Then don’t.
His voice again. Bastard.
“Fine. But it won’t do any good, you know.”
Using her good arm she slid her knife from its sheath and laid it on her thigh. Then she pulled the bottom edge of her T-shirt up to hold in her teeth while she cut and then ripped a length of the stretchy fabric to use as a tourniquet. She tied it around her upper arm, just above the wound, pulling the knot tight with her teeth, and almost blacked out. She waited for the pain to subside before she inserted the handle of the knife between the tourniquet and her arm and twisted it until there was enough pressure to slow the bleeding.
Perspiration dripped down her face and neck, pooling in the dip of her clavic
le. Exhausted, she secured the knife so the bandage wouldn’t loosen, and leaned her head back.
She thought again about trying to find her phone to record something for Santa and April, but couldn’t muster the energy.
It’s better this way. They’ll need to move on.
Resigned to her fate, she leaned her head back and gazed up at the stars. For some odd reason, Carl Sagan’s iconic voice popped into her head, reminding her there were “billions and billions of stars in the galaxy.” Soon, even stargazing required too much effort, and she closed her eyes.
12
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR KADEEM Hakim turned the office lights off and walked out the door, locking it behind him. He checked his watch. The latest night this week. Normally he’d have been home hours earlier. The tent housing the small café had long since closed, so there would be no dinner for him tonight.
With a sigh, he tucked his laptop under his arm and headed to his quarters.
“Do you have a moment?”
Startled, Kadeem turned at the sound of his superior’s voice. “Of course. Late night?”
“Yes.” Director La Pointe nodded but didn’t smile.
He’d always been a bit intimidated by her. She was the kind of woman who could look right through you, as though she knew exactly what you were thinking. She was cool and calculating, and absolutely sure of herself and her decisions. Once she’d come to a verdict, there was no talking her out of it. Kadeem supposed she was the right fit for the job of running a non-governmental relief organization like WCI, but he would have liked to see a more compassionate leader for the group. And for his boss.
“So how did the interview with the reporter go?” he asked.
She shrugged. “That will depend on the article she writes.”
“She seemed to be the compassionate sort. She brought a young girl to the office to search for her parents.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, but she didn’t have any luck, I’m afraid.” He smiled at the thought of the confident little girl. “Her name was Jinn.”