by C. J. Miller
In public, he was polished and impassioned about his cause. In private, he seemed a sliver away from losing his sanity completely over a personal matter that had happened years before.
Wasam jammed a hand through his hair. “Your agenda will ruin everything that is good about Qamsar. You want progress? You want Qamsar to advance alongside its new partner, America the brave and stupid? Do you know what I saw today? I saw a woman on the street wearing almost nothing, bending over and offering sex to strangers who drove by in their cars. Is that what you want for Qamsarian women?”
Of course he didn’t. Wasam was posturing as if putting on a show. “My hopes for Qamsar are for our people to prosper. Not through drugs or prostitution, but through good, honest hard work,” Saafir said.
“Lies! You want to sell us out to American oil companies and live fat and happy off the proceeds, while the people in our country starve and give away the most precious natural resource we have.”
Where was Wasam getting his ideas? Sarah had moved behind the couch, but she was exposed. Saafir wanted her to take cover somewhere else, maybe even get toward a window in case she needed an exit. “If I couldn’t leave you in a prison to starve, what makes you think I would want anyone in our country to starve?” Saafir asked.
Wasam turned red and shook with anger. “How dare you address the past so casually? You did leave me to starve. You didn’t care what happened to me. All that mattered to you was looking like the big, brave hero.”
Saafir hadn’t changed places with Wasam in battle to be a hero. He just hadn’t wanted special treatment because he was the son of the emir. Being left behind had been no way to earn the respect of his team.
“Enough talking. I want you on video addressing our country. Tell them about your plans to sell us out to the highest bidder. Tell them you don’t care about them, but you care about lining your personal coffers with gold. Tell them you’ve picked a new bride, an American.”
If Wasam and his followers were busy with camera equipment and a digital feed, it would give him a chance to disable them. “If that’s what it takes to get these people to safety, then we’ll do that.” He needed Sarah, Frederick and Virginia out of this room. A sound bite of Saafir admitting whatever Wasam wanted him to say would give Wasam leverage and pull more people to his cause. He’d lost footing when the Conservative party leaders had spoken out against him, and he was desperate to regain ground.
Wasam lowered his gun.
“I want a show of good faith. Let the women leave,” Saafir said.
“Your whore stays. The other one can go,” Wasam said.
One of Wasam’s followers cut Virginia free. Her mouth was taped, but she ran for the door. Saafir hoped his guards had followed his instructions and had discreetly moved closer to the apartment without raising Wasam’s follower’s suspicions, if Wasam did indeed have men posted in the area. His guards should have also alerted the police to approach silently. If Saafir’s guards could get to Virginia before Wasam’s did, they could protect her and they could find out what was happening inside the apartment. Saafir didn’t want anyone rushing inside with guns drawn, not with the chances for igniting a fire sky-high. Would Virginia alert the neighbors to flee for safety?
Wasam was arranging his laptop.
Saafir looked from Sarah to Frederick. Would she understand he wanted her to work to free Frederick? She still had her gun gripped in her hand. She narrowed her eyes slightly and nodded ever so subtly.
The gasoline smell in the air was strong and it burned his lungs. Saafir walked to the window and opened it. If the smell was bothering him, it had to be bothering Wasam and adding to his irritation.
“What are you doing?” Wasam asked.
“I need fresh air or I’ll pass out,” he said.
Wasam shook his head. “Pampered pansy.”
Though Wasam was unstable and angry, the insult was one that had been thrown his way often when Saafir had served in the military. Because he was a member of the royal family, Saafir had been treated differently. It had bothered him more than it had bothered his comrades. He’d wanted to be one of the team.
He flicked the curtain out of the window, alerting his team to his location. Fresh air coming into the room made it easier to think.
“I wrote a script for you. Look into the camera and speak slowly. Read what is on the screen or I will shoot you,” Wasam said.
Saafir sat in the chair Wasam indicated. His compliance was making Wasam and his followers more at ease. They had turned their attention to Saafir.
Wasam’s followers were between Sarah and the door. Otherwise, Saafir would have wanted her to run for safety. Sarah was standing near Frederick, hopefully trying to rouse him or untie him.
Wasam planned to get what he wanted and then he’d kill Frederick, Saafir and Sarah. They weren’t leaving here alive. Saafir waited until Wasam leaned forward to start the camera.
He then grabbed Wasam around the neck and slammed him hard against the kitchen countertop. Seizing his gun hand, Saafir hit his wrist against the countertop until the gun sprang free. Then he used Wasam as a shield.
Sarah had jumped onto one of the followers, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kicking at him.
Wasam’s remaining follower appeared confused.
The man Sarah had attacked flipped her over his shoulder. She landed on her back on the ground.
“Let her leave or I will break his neck,” Saafir said, tightening his arm around Wasam’s throat.
“Let her go,” Wasam croaked.
“Run, Sarah!”
“I can’t leave you here,” Sarah said.
“Go, Sarah,” Saafir said. He had much to say to her. If this was the last time they saw each other, he wanted to tell her he loved her. If he died, he wanted her to know. But if he confessed his love in front of Wasam, Wasam would know how treasured Sarah was and use her against Saafir. “Please, Sarah, go.” Perhaps his actions would deliver the message his mouth could not.
Her eyes were filled with tears, but she ran.
“Untie Frederick,” Saafir said as he circled Wasam’s followers, dragging Wasam.
“No, no,” Wasam said. “This does not end with you in power. No matter who has to die, it is worth the sacrifice to see you on your knees begging for forgiveness.”
Saafir’s senses went on heightened alert.
Wasam lifted a lighter from his pocket. “See you in hell.”
He flicked the lighter and threw it into the room. Immediately, fire raced around the space, closing them in. The door was covered in flames. They’d have to run directly through it to get out of the room. Wasam’s followers chose that route.
Saafir’s options were slim. The fire was consuming the oxygen around him. He could jump from the second-story window and survive. Throwing Frederick down would kill him. Wasam went limp and Saafir released him.
Saafir needed to get to Frederick. Running through flames, Saafir lifted Frederick over his shoulder and carried him into the hallway.
He returned for Wasam.
From the doorway, visibility was terrible. He did not see anyone, but he couldn’t leave someone inside to suffocate.
The intensity of the heat prevented him from going back inside to help Wasam. The flames were spreading fast and he had to get Frederick to safety. He lifted Frederick and carried him to the ground level.
Where was Sarah?
Saafir spotted Adham and ran to him. “Did you see Sarah come out?”
Adham shook his head.
“What about Wasam?”
“Are they still inside?” Adham asked.
“Sarah got out before the fire started.” Had one of Wasam’s followers grabbed her?
“The team called me in. Everyone is looking for Wasam.”
“He
set fire to Sarah’s apartment while we were still inside. I don’t think he made it out.”
“Crazy lunatic,” Adham said.
The police and fire departments had arrived on the scene. Saafir borrowed Adham’s phone and tried to call Sarah. The call went to voice mail. Where was she?
They’d fought earlier in the night, and Saafir had said he didn’t want to see her, but he needed to know she was okay.
“Is the building clear?” Saafir asked.
Adham nodded. “We evacuated everyone and are knocking on doors on this block.”
“Saafir!” Sarah voiced from somewhere in the night.
Saafir looked around. Sarah was being dragged into a car across the street.
Adham pulled his keys, dangling them out to Saafir. “My rental is there. Go. I’ll follow in the car.”
A motorcycle. Only his brother would rent a bike to get around D.C. Saafir climbed onto Adham’s motorcycle. It had been years since Saafir had ridden, but it came back to him easily. He couldn’t lose sight of the car carrying Sarah or he might lose her forever.
The car drove erratically down the street. Saafir’s thoughts were fixed on Sarah. She had to be safe. She had been through too much. How had Wasam’s men captured her without Adham or his guards seeing?
Turning down an alley after the sedan, Saafir stayed close. Wasam’s men would kill her if they hadn’t already.
The sedan was weaving down the road, running stop signs and red lights. At the third intersection, Saafir heard the sirens before he saw the car. Acting on instinct, he slowed and veered his bike to the right. The sedan careened into the intersection, colliding with a police cruiser. A second cruiser slammed into the first, knocking the sedan across the road like a ball on a billiards table.
The dark sedan came to a stop against a streetlight. No movement from the car. Sarah was inside! Was she hurt? Saafir ran to the car and pulled on the door handles. The back door was unlocked and Saafir nearly ripped the door off its hinges.
Sarah was inside, not moving. The other men in the car were bleeding, dazed or unconscious. Saafir reached for her, dragging her free of the vehicle.
Laying her on the sidewalk, Saafir saw one of the police officers jogging over to him, already calling an ambulance to the scene.
Not knowing what else to do, Saafir started CPR. She seemed so small and fragile in his arms. “Come on, Sarah, open your eyes.”
He breathed into her mouth. “Come on, goddess. I have a lot to say to you. Starting with I’m sorry.”
After what felt like an infinity, Sarah’s eyes fluttered open.
“You came for me,” she said.
“I told you I would protect you,” Saafir said, gathering her against him.
Sarah nodded and closed her eyes. “Did you get Frederick out?”
“Everyone but Wasam made it out,” Saafir said.
Sarah reached up and touched the side of his face. “You are a good man, Saafir.”
He kissed her hand and stayed with her until the ambulance arrived on the scene.
“Are you riding with her?” the paramedic asked.
Sarah held up her hand. “No. No, I am riding alone. Goodbye, Saafir.”
She had said goodbye to him in anger earlier in the night, but now he detected no malevolence in her voice, just resolve.
Chapter 12
“If you’re planning to make pasta sauce by the gallon, at least buy some pasta so we can eat it,” Molly said.
Sarah measured more oregano and dumped it into the pot. “I’ll run to the store later.” She needed to stay busy. Her business had dried up and she had lost the man she loved. She expected any day to see a headline announcing the engagement of the emir of Qamsar to the beautiful Alaina Faris. She dreaded the moment.
Molly laid a hand on her shoulder. “I was kidding. I’m worried about you.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Sarah said. She had gotten in over her head and she should have been more careful with her heart.
“Adham says Saafir has been in a bad mood since the fire at your place,” Molly said.
It made her feel a little better knowing Saafir wasn’t unaffected by what had happened. Sarah stirred the sauce to keep it from burning to the bottom of her Dutch oven. “I never should have agreed to help Owen. I never planned to help him. Why couldn’t I just have said no to him?”
“Because you think of him as family. Maybe Owen never should have asked you to do something two-faced.”
“I am two-faced because I agreed to do it,” Sarah said.
Molly wrapped her arms around Sarah. “You are not two-faced. You try too hard to please people. You need to worry about pleasing yourself more.”
“I knew this would happen if I got involved with Saafir. From day one, I knew it had to end and it wouldn’t end well. I don’t know why I’m so upset over it.”
“You’re upset because you fell in love with him and now you have to watch him leave and return to his home and marry someone else. You know his fiancée is waiting for him on the other side of his plane flight.”
His fiancée. The words sounded bitter and cold. “Maybe it’s better knowing someone else is waiting for him. At least I won’t be tempted to make a mockery of what we had by pretending a long-distance relationship would work when obviously we are from different worlds and we have different ideas about what a relationship is.”
Sarah had gone over her decision a thousand times. She and Saafir had said goodbye to each other with so much anger, but after the fire, she had sensed he’d wanted to say more. Sarah couldn’t have discussed more of the same. Her heart wouldn’t have withstood it. There was nothing either of them could say to change what was.
Molly sat on a bar stool and drummed her fingers against the countertop. “I heard from Adham that the trade agreement is close to being finalized. What will you say to Saafir at the ball?”
Sarah hadn’t forgotten about the ball that would mark the successful completion of the trade agreement. She had a number of vendors on hold, since the date was floating. “I won’t see him. I can organize everything from behind the scenes.” It was what she had been doing and it was her plan to continue. She couldn’t face Saafir. He had sent flowers to Molly’s place the night after her apartment had burned to the ground. Sarah hadn’t known how to respond to them. She’d said and done nothing.
“You’ll see him. You’re hands-on with your big events. You won’t let Saafir think you’re cowardly by hiding in the kitchen.”
“It doesn’t matter what Saafir thinks. I made the mistake of falling in love with him and now I have to undo it.”
Molly let out a snort. “If only it were that simple.” She leaned forward. “I know you’re in the middle of a crisis, but I need to tell you something. Will you promise to keep it a secret?”
Sarah set down her spoon and turned her full attention to Molly. “Of course. You know you can trust me.”
“I’m late,” Molly whispered.
“For what?”
“Not for anything. Late late. My period is five days overdue.”
Surprise flashed through her. “Adham? Are you pregnant with Adham’s baby?”
“Maybe. I haven’t told him and I’m too chicken to take a pregnancy test.”
This was big news. “I’m calling Krista. I’ll ask her to pick one up on the way over.”
“I can’t take it. It’s probably the stress of what’s been going on. I don’t want to make a big deal about nothing.”
Sarah wasn’t listening. She’d already texted Krista to stop by the pharmacy on the way over.
* * *
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Owen said, watching Saafir sign the finalized trade agreement.
Saafir handed the papers to Owen. “We made it
happen.”
The Americans had agreed to most concessions. The Loyalists and the Progressives were thrilled to learn about the agreement and its stipulations. Drilling, mining and refining the oil would stay in Qamsarian control. The Conservatives had been slow to comment on the deal. Factions within the party were scrambling to pick a new leader, though Mohammad Faris was mentioned often as the favored pick.
Owen put the signed trade agreement into an envelope, sealed it and handed it to the courier.
“I was sorry to hear about what happened with Wasam,” Owen said. “I know he was against the trade agreement, but I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”
“Wasam made some poor decisions,” Saafir said. He would not dishonor Wasam, but he would not let others shoulder responsibility for his death. The body in the apartment had been charred and the remains returned to Qamsar and Wasam’s family.
Owen was packing his file folders into his leather briefcase. “Sarah and I had an argument earlier that night and if anything had happened to her, I would have felt terrible.”
Saafir had known Sarah was feeling badly that night. “An argument about what?” Saafir asked, hoping to gain some insight into Sarah’s thoughts.
Owen sighed. “I was angry at her about what’s happening with my brother and I lashed out. I had put her in the middle of that situation and I tried to put her in the middle of the trade agreement. I was wrong on both counts.”
“In the middle of the trade agreement?” Saafir asked. He knew that Sarah was supposed to feed information to Owen. He wondered about Owen’s take on the problem.
“I asked her to let me know your thoughts on it,” Owen said. “I’m telling you this because she never told me anything. I think she agreed in the first place because I caught her in a weak moment and she was scared about losing the contract with the trade summit. Not one of my finer days, and I know she felt terrible about it.”
The burn of Sarah’s betrayal had faded. She’d been brave when they’d needed to rescue Frederick and Virginia from Wasam. She had visited his country and stood strong against the media. Wasam’s persistence in scaring her away hadn’t resulted in her leaving his side.