Operation: Forbidden

by Lindsay McKenna

  “He sounds like he was a very astute observer of life,” Emma said. “I really wish now that I had studied Rumi more back at language school. I like how he sees our messed-up world.”

  “Let me read you another poem,” Khalid said, and carefully turned the page on the very old, well-used book.

  Emma felt as if that poem was about her, about the walls she was trying to build within herself to stop herself from liking Khalid. Shifting uncomfortably, she refused to meet Khalid’s inquiring gaze after he finished the reading. His expression softened.

  “I know that something exists between us,” Khalid began gently, getting Emma to look into his eyes. “I feel you pulling back, Emma. I think I understand why, or perhaps I don’t at all.”

  Ouch. Emma sat up, hands clasped tensely in her lap. “Are you always this direct?”

  “I speak from my heart,” Khalid said. “I know no other way. Do you?”

  The man was so open and vulnerable right now that Emma couldn’t just fire off some sniping comment and escape from the helo. The sincerity in his darkened eyes called to her. “I…well…” she hesitated. And then, she knew she had to be equally honest with him. “Look, Khalid, you’re my boss. I don’t think a personal relationship is appropriate. Do you?”

  “I wasn’t expecting to be attracted to you, Emma.” He never broke eye contact with her. “For so long, I felt nothing at all after Najela’s death. In fact—” and he straightened and looked out at the darkening world beyond them “—I did not realize my heart was healing from that tragedy until I met you.”

  Emma sat immobile, confused. “Oh…” was all she could manage.

  Khalid wrestled mightily with his past. After Najela’s death, he’d sworn never to fall for another woman and put her into danger. Now his resolve was disappearing. All he wanted was a closer connection with Emma. The more he tried to stop himself, the more he felt driven to do the unthinkable.

  Khalid could see the bewilderment on Emma’s face. Without thinking, he stood and leaned over her. His hand slid across her jaw to cup her cheek. Bending his head, he gently placed his mouth across Emma’s parted lips. Her breath was warm and sweet, her mouth soft and tasting of cinnamon chai. He felt Emma stiffen and then, surrender to his kiss. There was such hesitancy and, yet, a sense of yearning as her mouth slid provocatively against his. The moment felt torn out of time and place. All Khalid could do was taste Emma, absorb the perfume of her skin, her hair and the silk of her mouth into his wildly pounding heart.

  Emma suddenly jerked out of the woven heat of the moment. She looked up into Khalid’s hooded, dark eyes that burned with need—of her. “We can’t!” she cried.

  Khalid stepped back, hearing such fear in her voice. His mouth throbbed with the kiss, the taste of her on his lips. The book was still gripped in his hand. “I’m at fault,” he murmured apologetically. “After Najela’s murder, I swore I would never get involved with another woman. I never wanted her harmed as Najela had been.” He gave Emma a helpless look. “I’m so sorry, Emma, I don’t know what happened.”

  Emma felt panic. She could still feel the masculine stamp of Khalid’s mouth on her own. Oh, how she wanted him! All of him! The unexpected kiss broke open the lies she’d been telling herself. His mouth resting lightly on her own, his male scent consuming her, all conspired against Emma. The raw pain in his hoarse tone was evident. Najela’s death had changed him forever. Opening her hands in desperation she said, “We’ve both got good reasons not to do this. I’m relying on you to give me a positive rating after this mission.”

  Khalid shook his head, his emotions still gripping him in a powerful hold. “But I will give you an excellent report for your personnel jacket. Why are you so worried about that? You are a good pilot, you care and you’re an excellent officer. How could I not give you a glowing report?” Khalid knew from many earlier heartbreaks that some women could not tolerate his Muslim-Christian background. Maybe that’s what this was all about. He borrowed from both great religions, but primarily was guided by his Sufi heart and soul. His heart never led him wrong, but Khalid had encountered a few women in his life who were not as tolerant as he was, and those relationships had broken up as a result. Was Emma wrestling with this issue, too? It didn’t matter. He had to be responsible. Never would he place Emma in Najela’s place. He just couldn’t!

  Khalid sat down. Emma looked as if she wanted to run away. Searching her face, he asked, “Is it because of my religions that I embrace, Emma? Does that offend you?”

  Brows raising, Emma gasped, “Why—no! Of course not!”

  “What then?”

  Emma sighed. She had to tell Khalid why it was important to get a good grade on this mission. As quietly as she could, because she didn’t want her voice drifting out beyond the helo to other ears, she confided in Khalid how she’d allowed Nike Alexander to give up her seat in the Apache to save a Special Force’s sergeant’s life last year. As she finished the story about the punishment she’d gotten, the demotion and the black eye it had given her famous military family, Khalid’s expression changed from confusion to surprise and then, finally, understanding.

  “Ah,” he said, “I see why you are so distraught. It creates great pain for you to hurt your family’s untarnished reputation. I get that.” Khalid sat for several moments digesting Emma’s conundrum. He could still taste her on his lips. He never wanted that sweet cinnamon taste to go away. The barrier between them was greater than he’d anticipated. And now he understood Emma’s fear of intimacy with him.

  “Can I convince you that I will give you a good mark for this mission?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

  Emma grimaced. “So many things could go wrong, Khalid. It’s not a matter of trust. It’s about life. What if we got together and then broke up three months from now? You’d be hurt. Angry. And you could get even with me by giving me a very bad mark on the report.” Emma shook her head. “No, I can’t risk that. I’m sorry.”

  Tapping his fingers softly on the book, Khalid said, “I wish I could regret kissing you. But I cannot.” His stomach roiled, his heart pounded as if he were being pushed in several directions—between the horrific past, wanting to love Emma and knowing he never could.

  Emma shrugged, dodging his inquiring gaze. She stared down at her clenched hands in her lap. She could feel Khalid struggling with these issues. Emma felt she owed him the truth. Looking up, she held his gaze. “No, I can’t regret it, either, Khalid. But there are other things involved.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as I’m on a second tour over here. In nine months, it’s finished and I’m being rotated stateside. I have three more years on my officer’s contract with the U.S. Army. I have no idea where I’ll be sent.”

  “I understand. Many hurdles.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, feeling emotionally exhausted. “And they are all out of my control.”

  “But,” Khalid persisted with a gentle smile, “life always throws hurdles at us. I swore on Najela’s grave not to fall in love with another woman and have her harmed by Asad Malik.”

  Now more than ever, it was time to tell Khalid everything. He needed to know about her own heartbreak. She couldn’t hold back. Emma finally broke down and told him about Brody Parker. When she was finished with the deeper explanation, she said unsteadily, “Just as you have your own reservations about getting involved again, I feel the best thing to do is to walk away. We can’t jeopardize this mission…or our wounded hearts.”

  The words were like ice. Khalid realized he was just coming out of two years of grieving over the loss of Najela. He was acting irrationally and expecting too much from Emma. It was her right to set the agenda. “I understand,” he said. “I will honor your needs, Emma. I will remember our kiss forever.” Moving his shoulders, as if to remove an unseen load, Khalid added, “I do not want to be a dark shadow that stains your life and stops that wonderful smile from giving others sunlight.”

  Feeling miserable, Emma muttered, “
I appreciate it, Khalid. I’m just sorry it couldn’t be what we wanted.”

  Khalid rose because he saw the sergeant returning from the village. “I am, too. Here comes our load master. We need to fly back to base camp now.”

  “Hey,” Nike Alexander called, sticking her head inside Emma’s tent, “how are you?”

  Emma was just easing her flight boots off her feet when her best friend slipped through the tent flaps. “Hey, Nike. Good to see you.”

  “Girlfriend,” Nike murmured, putting her hands on her hips and studying her, “you look like hell warmed over. Bad flight back from Zor Barawul?”

  Sighing, Emma gestured to the chair next to her cot. “Have a seat,” she said. After she kicked her boots beneath the cot, she got up and tied the tent flaps together. She’d just arrived back to Bravo an hour earlier. It was cold, nearly freezing outdoors. As soon as Emma had got in her tent, she’d turned on the space heater to warm it up.

  Nike put her helmet bag next to the chair and sat down.

  Emma poured herself some water. “Want some?”

  “Yes, thanks. We forget we’re in a desert, and none of us drinks enough to stay properly hydrated,” Nike said.

  Emma poured a second glass and handed it to the Greek pilot. “You look like you saw some action. There was a lot of chatter on the channel as I was flying back.”

  “Yeah,” Nike said, drinking the water in gulps. “The crap hit the fan over near the border about three miles west of Do Bandi.” Nike gave her an evil grin. “We creamed about fifty Taliban who thought they could sneak across the valley in the dark.”

  “Wow,” Emma murmured, “that’s good.”

  “Fifty that won’t be harassing those poor Afghan villagers in that area,” Nike said. She placed the emptied glass on a table next to where she sat.

  “Yes, and Do Bandi is one of the villages we’re working in to bring education to the children,” Emma said, worried. She sat down on the cot next to her friend.

  “So, what’s with you? Catching the flu? Rough flight back? Get shot at?”

  Mouth quirking, Emma growled, “I wish it was one of those things.”

  “Uh-oh,” Nike said, grinning. “Man trouble.”

  “It’s Khalid.”

  “Yeah, remarkable dude, isn’t he? A stud. If I didn’t love my guy like I do, I’d sure consider chasing him myself,” she chuckled.

  Emma searched her friend’s face. “From the moment I saw him, I felt my heart twang like a harp. I fought it, Nike. I put up good reasons not to even think about being with this guy.”

  “But?”

  “We were in the cockpit at dusk tonight. He came and sat down in the copilot’s seat and started reading Rumi’s love poems to me.”

  “How sweet!” Nike got excited. “Emma, that’s wonderful! How many American guys would think of doing that?”

  “Oh, you would react that way, Nike. Dammit! I need a little pity here, okay?”

  Nike chuckled darkly. “What’s standing in your way, Emma? You’re not attached. And if you like him, what’s the problem?”

  Emma told her. She saw Nike lose some of her ebullience over the event.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. He is your boss, after all. And Brody Parker led you on and then crushed your heart. He was a sonofabitch.”

  “I really hurt Khalid’s feelings tonight. He asked me if I trusted him to do the right thing. And I said I couldn’t trust him.”

  Nike shook her head. “I feel for both of you. Right now, you’re caught between a rock and hard place. Your first duty is to your family and expunging the bad name we managed to give it.”

  “Yeah,” Emma sighed, “I know it. To be fair to him, he’s fighting his attraction to me because he lost Najela to Asad Malik. He doesn’t want to put another woman in that bastard’s gun sights.”

  “Mmm,” Nike said, “He’s caught between a rock and hard place, too.”

  “Yes,” Emma said, feeling glum.

  “Well,” Nike said, patting her friend’s sagging shoulder, “you do the best you can, Emma. The way I look at it, if it’s meant to work out, it will. No matter the reasons, if it’s meant to be, it will happen. You have this mission to toe the line on and get glowing commendations.”

  Giving Nike a warm look, Emma gripped her hand, squeezed and released it. “I just want to try and get my career back on track and get my family’s good name polished up again.”

  “Right on,” Nike agreed.

  Emma pressed her hand to her heart, her voice low with unshed tears. “The problem is I like the guy. More than a little. This sucks.

  “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.” Nike gave her an encouraging wink, which didn’t help matters.

  Chapter 9

  “Brother,” Kinah called to Khalid from the door of the school, “come visit with me.”

  Khalid halted in the center of the muddy street in Do Bandi. The late-April rains were starting once more. He wore his dark-green nylon jacket and a black baseball cap to shield himself. As he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that Emma remained at the CH-47, helping a group of medical people get their supplies. He hadn’t seen Kinah in two weeks and he waved to her.

  When Emma looked his way, Khalid motioned with his hand, signaling where he would be if she needed him. Today, he was the pilot and she was the copilot. It was her duty to deal with the details while he could be somewhat free from those responsibilities. Emma raised her hand in return and nodded.

  Happiness thrummed through Khalid as he turned. A cluster of children surrounded him at the door where his younger sister stood. He pulled out handfuls of candy from the thigh pockets of his flight suit. Little hands opened. They didn’t grab or fight. Instead, Khalid could see Kinah’s firm but loving training.

  “Well, well,” Khalid said to them, “I believe you all need this.” He handed out all the candy to the children. They were polite, smiling and they thanked him. Then, they scattered to the four winds, sweet treasures in hand.

  Kinah laughed and stood aside so her brother could enter the now-empty classroom. “You are like Santa Claus to them, brother. And you spoil them. Every time you fly in here, they know it’s you. I can hardly keep their attention when they hear your helicopter coming toward the village.”

  Khalid grinned, shut the door and embraced his tall sister. She was dressed in a cinnamon-colored wool robe and a bright-red hijab covered her black curls. “I can see your handiwork, sister,” he whispered, giving her an evil grin as he stepped back. “They are acting with manners. Well done.” Khalid scanned the area. “This looks great,” he said. There were three large green chalkboards hung on three walls. Twenty-five desks were arranged in tidy rows. Kinah was one for insisting that children learn to be organized. Each desk had a notebook, a pen and a pencil on top of it.

  Kinah slipped her arm around her brother’s arm and walked him to her desk at the front of the room. “Do you have an apple for the teacher, too?”

  “No,” Khalid admitted, still smiling. “No apple.”

  Pouting, Kinah released his arm and sat down in her chair. She gestured for him to sit down in the sturdy wooden chair next to her desk. “I know, you save all your gifts for Emma.”

  Khalid sat down and took off his baseball cap. He shrugged and said, “Well, perhaps I did remember to bring you something.” He dug into the pocket of his jacket. Kinah had a great love of Kit Kats, the chocolate wafer bars. She’d been able to get them only rarely after leaving America when her education was complete. He saw Kinah’s winged brows rise, and she looked with curiosity at him.

  “I met Steve Hudson, an army major at Bagram. He’s assigned to fly with the Apache squadrons in the south. He just happens to be a good friend of mine. So I asked a favor of him….” Khalid drew out four Kit Kats and handed them to his sister.

  Kinah gasped. “Khalid! You did it!” She grabbed them. “Oh, you are such a jewel, beloved brother!” Rapidly, Kinah tore off the wrapping and took her first bite of the Kit
Kat.

  Khalid laughed. “You look like an addict getting her fix, Kinah.”

  Giggling between bites, Kinah said, “Oh, I am! But better to be addicted to chocolate than opium.”

  On that note, Khalid lost his smile and became more serious. “Indeed,” he murmured. It did his heart good to see his vibrant, feisty sister once more. Since Operation Book Worm had begun on April second, nearly four weeks ago, he’d rarely seen his sister. Kinah’s job was to bring in teachers, create an atmosphere of learning and organize everything having to do with the children’s education. Her tasks were at an end today at Do Bandi. Khalid and Emma would be flying her to Zor Barawul, where she would manage the educational program for two weeks, before they headed home today.

  Kinah sighed, finishing off the first Kit Kat. “That was pure heaven. Thank you, brother.” She reached over and pinched his cheek.

  Khalid caught his sister’s long, fluid hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “You were looking tired. I knew Kit Kats would refuel you.” He released her hand. Kinah colored fiercely and pretended to give him a stern look.

  “Brother, I fly on the wings of my heart’s passion. You know that. And when you love what you do, all the energy in the world is available to you.”

  “You have always been guided by your heart.”

  She returned his look. “Is there any other way?”

  “No,” he agreed. Gesturing around the room he asked, “So, how are you? Have things been quiet here?”

  Kinah sighed. “The last week has been peaceful. The Taliban, I think, realize that with an A-team stationed here, they cannot ransack and harm the villagers. It has been a very happy, relaxed place for once.”

  “Mmm,” Khalid said. “The Taliban goes where there is no threat to them.”

  “That’s getting hard for them to do with the border villages,” Kinah said. “You should see the difference in the people here, Khalid. They are protected for the first time in many decades. They laugh. They smile. It truly warms my heart.” She pressed her hand to her breast, tears in her eyes.