The Soldier & The Spy

by Samantha Sommersby

  “I love you, too. Don’t get killed!” she called after him.

  After traveling that first night they stopped and slept for only about six hours. The second night of travel went much like the first. Last night had been more difficult for everyone. All of the men were getting tired. They were sore from the journey and their water was running out.

  Abdulla rode in closer to Lillian. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I don’t think so. Jemal signaled. Jackson wants us to sit tight and hold our position. He said if something goes wrong Ahmed should take charge.” Lillian climbed out of her saddle and stretched her back.

  “I’ll go tell him.” Abdulla took off, heading down the line.

  “No need.” Lillian nodded. “He’s coming to us.”

  “I think I’ve been here before,” Ahmed said as he approached. “Is there a small oasis up ahead?”

  “Don’t know, but you’re in charge until Jackson gets back. You’d better stay here in front of the column. I’ll take your place.”

  “You’re better protected up here, my lord.”

  “I realize that, but if you are in command, this is where you need to be. This is not a time for vanity. Is there someone else you would rather have lead the rear guard?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Good, it’s settled then. I know the signals now. I will await your orders. I am counting on you to serve me well.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Ahmed bowed in deference to the prince as he rode away. “When the lieutenant returns we will resume our original commands.”

  Lillian bit her lip and paced back and forth.

  “Everything will be fine,” he assured her.

  “You don’t know that!”

  “Why are you angry with me?”

  “I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m just…”

  “Worried,” he finished. “I understand. Believe me, I do. War is a dangerous business. People get hurt. People get killed. Sometimes people you love.”

  “You’ve lost someone.”

  “Yes.” Ahmed looked off into the distance.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. You are very kind.”

  “Who was it that you lost?”

  “My wife and sons. I was away, tending to someone, when our village was attacked. They were killed.”

  “Tending?”

  “My father was a healer. He taught me.”

  Lillian nodded. “Turks?”

  “Yes.” Ahmed shielded his eyes against the early morning sun. “He is returning.”

  Off in the distance Lillian could see a dust cloud. Seconds later a tiny speck appeared through the heat waves on the desert horizon. Relief swept over her. She watched, patiently and in silence, as the image of her husband enlarged, coming closer and closer.

  “What is it?”

  Jackson smiled. “Well, seems I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

  “I believe I would rather avoid the bad news altogether,” Ahmed answered.

  “I agree,” Lillian said. “We took a vote while you were gone and we are only accepting good news for the duration of the war.”

  “Okay. Good news first! There’s a lovely little oasis up ahead. It’s a good two acres of green paradise with a huge natural spring and a couple of artesian wells. It seems it’s been occupied and farmed before. There’s still wheat and barley in the fields. And there are trees, date palms, figs, peaches, and some citrus.” Jackson pulled a ripened peach from the satchel tied to his saddle and tossed it to Lillian.

  “Well, let’s go!” Lillian enthusiastically bit into the ripe fruit. “Oh my God. This is delicious!” She offered Jackson a bite. “I swear this is the best thing I have ever put in my mouth.”

  Jackson raised an eyebrow and grinned. “The very best, love?” he teased

  Before she could respond, Jackson had once again become the commanding soldier. Refocusing on the matter at hand, he addressed Ahmed. “

  The Turks swept through not long ago and decimated the little village that had been there. The Hasimi now occupy it. I’m having a bit of trouble getting permission to camp there. Truth is, they won’t even let us drink from the wells and water the animals before moving on. Any ideas?”

  “That’s not exactly true, is it?” Lillian challenged.

  “Not sure what you mean, love.”

  “They would let you and me; it’s Abdulla and his men who aren’t welcome.”

  “Well, I did request permission on behalf of Abdulla, that’s true.”

  “There are tribal differences. It may seem petty, I know, but it’s their way. These tribes have fought one another for years. The animosity between them runs deep.”

  “But it’s only water!” Jackson said.

  “Water is everything in the desert,” Ahmed pointed out. “They will not consent. Do we outnumber them, Lieutenant?”

  “What? We are not going to fight them. They are not the enemy! They’ve been working on sabotage efforts for months. We’re on the same bloody side!”

  Ahmed wiped the sweat from his brow. “You’ve returned. Should I switch back with Abdulla?”

  “No!” Jackson snapped. “Lillian, you’re with me.”

  “Me? What do you want me to do?”

  “There was a reason your government sent you here. It’s time to go to work, love. Come on!” Jackson turned his horse and rode off at a gallop.

  Lillian followed, quickly catching up. “Jackson!”

  “Took you long enough!” he shouted over his shoulder as he continued onward past Jemal, past the line held by the flanks, past the man on point. He stopped about a hundred meters from the outskirts of the small village. It took Lillian just a few seconds to catch up with him. By the time she did, he had already dismounted. He reached up and helped her off her horse.

  “You do know why my government sent me, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Because you have superb diplomatic skills and you’re bloody brilliant?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Oh, but you really are. Lillian. You know all sorts of useful facts about this country and its people. So, tell me what’s—”

  “He said it was because I was pretty.”

  “What?”

  “The man from the FBI when he came to ask.” Lillian looked uncomfortably back towards the caravan. “He said I was chosen because I was pretty.”

  “Well, he’s wrong,” Jackson replied with conviction. “You’re not pretty. You, my dear, are exquisite. But, I’ve got to tell you, that asset I am not willing to exploit. I want you to put this to use.” He softly tapped her head. “How do we spin this in order to get them to let us stay?”

  Lillian thought for a moment. “Let’s start with what we have in common. You said it yourself, Jackson. We’re on the same side. We are fighting against the same enemy. We’ve got to somehow align with them. How many of them are there?”

  “Not more than twenty, I’d wager. They were planning on attacking the rail. They have explosives, which could definitely be an asset to us. Several of them were injured on a prior mission. Bad burns. They’ve been laid up here for a few days trying to recover.”

  “Then we have several things that offer advantage. The common enemy, many able-bodied men to support their mission, and a healer to nurse their sick back to health.”

  “What do you mean, a healer?”

  “Ahmed is a healer. Like a doctor, Jackson. He can treat them.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right then! We’ve got ourselves some leverage. Let’s go!”

  They walked the few remaining yards together. A gentleman waited patiently for them at the edge of the oasis.

  Jackson called out to him. “Hassan!”

  “That was quick, Lieutenant. We did not expect you to return so swiftly.”

  “Well, we didn’t want to waste any time. I’d like you to meet—”

  “Lillian? Lillian Drake!
Oh my Lord! It is you, isn’t it?” A tall dark-haired man swiftly approached.

  “Preston?”

  “Lord, you’re a sight for sore eyes!” He walked up to Lillian, wrapped his arms around her and swept her up in an overly familiar embrace. After releasing her he brushed the hair back from her face, placed his hands on her shoulders, and in a low voice whispered, “You know just last night I was laying alone in my tent, thinking about you, and here you are. Did you come looking for me?”

  “I—”

  Jackson moved in closer. “Actually, it’s Crawford now, mate.”

  Preston seemed to notice him for the first time. “What?”

  “Her last name, it’s now Crawford.”

  Preston released his hold on Lillian “And you are?”

  “Her husband. Lieutenant Jackson Crawford.” Jackson offered Preston his hand, but Preston ignored it.

  “You married a Brit? When?”

  Lillian nodded towards Jackson’s still outstretched hand.

  “Oh! Sorry.” Preston grasped it.

  “Recently,” Lillian responded vaguely. “What are you doing here?”

  “Figured that would be pretty obvious. Following in your old man’s footsteps, as usual. I’ve been doing my best to sabotage the rail.”

  “Were you with him? When it happened, were you with him?” asked Lillian.

  Preston shook his head. “Not close enough. I was out with a group on a raid. I didn’t return in time. I was too late, I’m sorry.”

  Silent tears leaked from Lillian’s eyes and she stubbornly wiped them away. “Preston, we’re traveling with a group of men. We’re on our way to complete a vital mission and we need rest and water. We’d like to camp here for a day or two.”

  “I’m not in charge here.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. You have a way of taking charge.”

  “I’m sure you’re more than welcome.”

  “But the rest of them are not!” Hassan interjected.

  Lillian approached him. “Hassan, we are on the same side here, fighting against a common enemy. Let’s not fight one another, tribe against tribe. It’s such a waste. We both have a mission to carry out. We can help you with yours and you can help us with ours. You have few men, but we have many. You have sick and wounded; we have a healer traveling with us. We can help one another. Together we can be stronger.”

  “You want our water!”

  “Damn straight!” Jackson interrupted. “And some of your explosives would do us a right bit of good as well.”

  Hassan stepped forward to confront Jackson. “You think we are going to just—”

  “Look, mate, we’re not here to quarrel with you. It’s the Turks we’re after. We are offering medical care for your wounded. In exchange, you allow us to camp here. It’s a fair trade.”

  The man thought it over for a few seconds before asking, “Your healer will agree to treat my men?”

  “He’s under my command, he’ll do as I ask,” Jackson said.

  “Very well.”

  “Well, all right then! We’ll be back.”

  “Lieutenant?”

  “Yes?”

  “My son is among the wounded.”

  “We’ll do our best.” Jackson mounted his horse. “Where are you going?” Lillian asked.

  “Going to give the men the good news. No need for you to ride back. Why don’t you pick us out a nice spot? When I get back we can pitch our tent.”

  “Okay.” Lillian worried her bottom lip.

  Jackson studied her for a moment.

  She glanced back at Preston.

  “Lillian?”

  “Yes?”

  “Hold on.”

  Lillian grabbed his forearm and in one smooth motion he lifted her onto the back of his horse. She wrapped her arms around his waist and placed a small kiss on his back. “Thanks.”

  Jackson turned his horse around and began the ride over to Jemal. “You gonna tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “What he is to you?”

  “He’s not anything to me.”

  “Not anymore, perhaps, but he was once, I’d wager. He’s definitely seen you without your knickers.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way that he, without even trying, brings out the homicidal maniac in me.”

  Lillian laughed and snuggled closer. “You have nothing to worry about, Jackson.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Jackson gradually wakened, he instinctively reached out his arm, searching for the warm body he’d grown accustomed to sleeping alongside. So quickly he had fallen into a rhythm with her. He loved best this quiet moment before either of them was fully awake. He would wrap his body protectively around her, taking the time to memorize her curves and breathing in her scent. He found himself more and more visualizing that they were back in his flat in London, waking up in his large four-poster bed after a night of making love.

  He realized these thoughts about a future were dangerous. Not merely a future with her, a future at all. It could all be lost within the blink of an eye. Better to focus on the present. Appreciate what he had now. Jackson inched a bit to the left and reached out further. When his arm found only emptiness he quickly opened his eyes and sat up, fully alert. He was alone.

  “Lillian?” he whispered into the darkness of their tent.

  There was no response. He peered outside the tent. It was late at night and the camp was quiet. Most of the men had turned in by late afternoon or early evening, anxious to catch up on sleep. He scanned his surroundings and listened for any sign of activity or movement. He felt as if the bottom of his stomach suddenly dropped out. Then he heard it, a soft moan followed by the sound of rustling sheets.

  He got up and slowly moved the direction of the noise. He’d walked about a dozen meters when it stopped. He stood still and waited. For a moment he wondered if he were dreaming. Then he heard the moan again, only it was louder this time—a man. He determinedly walked towards the entrance to the tent. Ahmed emerged carrying a bucket in one hand and a wet rag in the other.

  “You surprised me.” He reached back inside the tent and pulled the flap closed. “It’s bad,” he said shaking his head. “Not sure those two will make it. The truly unfortunate thing is that it could have been avoided. If their burns had been properly tended to in the first place, they wouldn’t have become so infected.”

  “Lillian is missing,” Jackson told him.

  “No, she’s down by the water. She said she wanted to bathe. I walked her down there myself. She didn’t want to wake you. Guess she thought you needed your rest. I promised her I’d return in an hour or so to walk her back, but I’m sure she’d rather have your company.”

  “She’s been gone that long?” he asked, concerned that he wasn’t somehow alerted to her absence.

  “Just about twenty minutes, give or take.” Ahmed studied him. “You don’t like the fact that you didn’t sense her getting up.”

  “Guess I’m getting too bloody used to her. She normally gets up at night to use the loo.” Jackson ran his hand through his hair and looked off in the direction of the water.

  “Getting used to sleeping with your wife is a bad thing?”

  Jackson turned and looked at him, understanding passing quickly between them.

  Ahmed nodded. “You think what you have with her is going to end and you don’t want to miss her. You don’t want to feel that void, that emptiness. I can understand that.”

  “I thought you might. I think I’ll walk down there and check on her.”

  “Lieutenant? While it’s true that if my wife and children meant less to me, my pain now would be, well, not so great, I would have lost something even more important.”

  Jackson waited for him to continue.

  “I would never have had the pleasure of knowing them. I would never have experienced the joy that having them in my life brought me.” />
  “You’re an interesting fellow, Ahmed.”

  He smiled. “Must be the sleep deprivation. I’m going to make another trip to the well for some more water. Is it all right with you if I have Lillian relieve me in a few hours?”

  “You haven’t slept yet?”

  “Not yet.” Ahmed draped the wet rag over a makeshift clothesline.

  “I’ll send her over in a bit. You’re doing a great job, Ahmed.” Jackson patted him on the back, and then walked off in search of his wife.

  The pathway down to the water wasn’t terribly long. The glow from the moon overhead allowed him to see its outline as it curved ahead of him. He traversed slowly, gazing up at the stars and taking in the smell of the flowers that surrounded it. As he came up close to the end of the path he could see a cluster of date palms ahead and the outline of five or six men sitting amongst them.

  He froze, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Slowly lowering himself to the ground he listened, trying to catch any words that might be passing between them. The lighting was too dim for him to tell who the men were, whether they were his, Hassan’s, or perhaps others who had stumbled upon the oasis. He cursed himself for coming unarmed, and for a moment wondered if he should return for weapons and some reinforcements. Remaining in a crouched position, he inched slowly forward. Once he was positioned ten to twelve meters from the group he stopped again reaching out with his senses, assessing the situation.

  “Come on,” he heard one of them whisper. “Turn around! Turn around!”

  “Shh,” another reprimanded. “Be quiet.”

  Jackson recognized the second voice as belonging to Ali, the young man that Jemal had riding on point during their journey. Jackson rose to his feet and silently moved closer to the men. From his standing position a few feet behind them he could clearly see what had gotten the men’s attention.

  The pool of water was still but for a few minor ripples, the moonlight making its surface shimmer. He watched as his wife’s head broke through the calm of the water. She stood in the waist high pool facing away from them. He could clearly see the outline of her torso and the curve of her breasts. She arched back and swept her hand over her head, gathering her long hair up in her hands and wringing it out before letting it fall back across her shoulders. The vision was enough to take any man’s breath away.