by Schafer, Ben
FOR a long moment, the only sounds came from Hashim, who was too young to really understand what was happening. But he was scared, very scared, and for good reason. I was ready to kill Nadir, a man whose life I had saved and who had saved my life in return. I was ready to leave his corpse to be picked at by buzzards on the side of some God-forsaken road in the hills.
I was filled with so much anger, so much hatred, that I could hardly see straight. Every muscle in my body was tense, and my nerves were boiling with an electric energy. I embraced the sensation. It gave me a dark sense of control.
“That, that is a lie,” Khamilah whispered. But it was a halfhearted protest. She had to have known what kind of man she married so many years ago. Even if she didn’t know details, she knew the man her husband really was.
“Are you sure about this, Kyle?” Jamil asked.
“That’s an awfully harsh accusation to make without any evidence,” Azima added.
“Oh, but I have evidence,” I said as I straightened. “Jamil, tell everyone what we talked about outside the cafe.”
Azima held up a hand. “Wait, you knew about this back in Damascus and you didn’t tell anyone?”
“I only had my suspicions then.” I looked to Jamil. “Go ahead and tell them.”
Jamil glanced at the faces gathered around him. “When were ambushed at Imady Consulting, Kyle began to suspect that someone in the group was a mole. Only someone with inside information could have known that we would be at that spot at that time. Not even Hafiz or Father Abiad knew that information.”
“What about the helicopter crew?” Khamilah asked. “They could have been followed. Or they could have told someone where they were going by accident.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t follow someone to set up an ambush, Khamilah. You have to get in place ahead of time.”
“Kyle did say that the helicopter crew may been responsible for something that gave us away,” Jamil said. “But what made him suspect Nadir was something that happened just before we left the building. Did either of you see the tall man downstairs by the elevator?”
Azima nodded. “He was talking to Kyle.”
Khamilah pointed at me. “Aha! Then how do we know that Kyle isn’t the traitor? He’s the one who changed the plan in the first place. I mean, do any of us even really know who he is or who sent him here?”
“Khamilah, there are a couple problems with that theory,” I said. I held the pistol steadily in my right hand while I counted using the fingers of my left hand. “One, I was interrogating a man at gunpoint, not having a casual conversation over dinner. Two, I didn’t change the plan, that was the army who came trampling over our original landing site. Three, and this is the most important, if I were the traitor you would all be dead right now.”
Khamilah lowered her accusatory finger. “But what does this have to do with my husband?”
“Nadir shot that man just seconds before he could tell me who had hired the hit squad,” I said.
“In his defense,” Azima said, “he did save your life.”
“Jamil, you said that there was no way that Nadir could have seen his pistol from that angle, right?” I asked. Jamil nodded. “But he could have heard our conversation and decided that he had to put a stop to it.”
“I hate to say it, but it makes sense when you consider the facts,” Jamil replied.
I looked down at the man at my feet. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Nadir gulped. “I’m sorry.”
Khamilah’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” Nadir resumed, “about your mother. I admit it. That was the worst mistake of my career.”
“She wasn’t a ‘mistake,’” I thundered. “She was a human being with a loving family.”
Nadir propped himself up on his elbows. “I know. We were never supposed to kill anyone. We just wanted to scare your father a little so he would provide the General Security Directorate with details about his influential clients in Jordan and the Gulf states.”
“No,” I shook my head in denial. “She was killed because she spoke out against the regime. You wanted to kidnap her to coerce her into silence.”
Nadir had a puzzled look on his face. “She was an American citizen. I’ll admit, she had a reputation in diplomatic circles for causing trouble. But if the intelligence services had such a problem with her viewpoints, we would have just complained to her superiors in the State Department to get her kicked out of the country.”
“But kidnapping an American citizen to blackmail her husband is a better plan?” I scoffed.
“It wasn’t supposed to come back to the regime at all. The two men who were hired to carry out the kidnapping were members of the Palestinian Liberation Organization. We hired them to make it look like a terrorist attack. The Palestinians were fond of kidnapping in those days, when they weren’t blowing themselves up at bus stations. My boss believed the press would believe that story. I was supposed to be their handler, but they refused to listen to my orders. Things got heated and . . .” he sighed. “I suppose you witnessed the rest.”
“Oh, my God, Kyle,” Azima whispered.
The front sight of the Browning bobbed, and I realized my hands were trembling with rage. I forced myself to take a calming breath. I was afraid that I would end up pulling the trigger by accident. If and when I killed Nadir, I wanted it to be completely by my choice. “Is that what happened at Imady Consulting? Did things just get ‘out of control?’”
“I had nothing to do with that!” Nadir insisted.
“Why should we believe you?” Jamil asked. “You just admitted to killing Kyle’s mother!”
“That was fifteen years ago,” Nadir countered. “And I have regretted my role in that tragedy every day since then.” His gaze shifted to his wife. “You accused me of no longer being the man that you married. I am afraid that you were right.”
“Oh, Nadir,” Khamilah said. “If you had only told me, I could have been there for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s a bigger picture here. The men in that gas station carried military standard-issue radios and pistols.” I waved the Browning for emphasis. “There’s no helicopter crew to blame for this one. Someone must have told the army that we were headed this way.”
“Then why didn’t they have more men?” Azima asked.
Jamil snapped his fingers as he figured it out. “Because they couldn’t be certain which route we would take.”
I nodded. “I imagine there are a dozen observers waiting for us at gas stations and critical intersections all along our route.” I looked at the man on the other side of my gun. “But I’m sure that he can tell us more.”
“I swear, I don’t know,” Nadir said through tears.
I delivered a swift kick to his ribs. “Liar!”
“Kyle,” Azima whispered.
“I don’t know anything,” Nadir blubbered. “I don’t know anything!”
I kicked him again. “The next time you lie to me, I will put a bullet in your gut. You won’t die well and you won’t die quickly. It’ll hurt, and it’ll hurt for a while. Plenty of time for you to tell me what I want to know.”
“Kyle!” Azima yelled. She imbued that one syllable with absolute authority, as if she was talking to a troublesome child. “That is enough.”
I blinked. What was happening? I was dangerously close to crossing a line. But this man, this monster, had been the source of so much suffering in my life. Did he just think that he could just wrap himself in the cloak of Christianity, if his story of converting was even true, and then walk away without facing justice? Not if I had anything to say about it.
“You’re right,” I said through grinding teeth. “It doesn’t matter now. If he lives, we will all be in danger.” I looked over my shoulder and tossed Jamil the keys. “Get in the truck. Turn on the radio as loud as it can go and make sure that Hashim closes his eyes.”
“But—”
“Now!” Jamil did as I as
ked. A few moments later, I heard the stereo boom. It was time. “Khamilah, I suggest that you look away.”
“Kyle, you can’t,” Khamilah panted. Her eyes flicked from her husband to me and back again. “You can’t kill him.”
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Khamilah. I know we haven’t gotten along very well, and that’s been largely on me. But this,” I put my boot on the center of Nadir’s chest and pressed him into the dirt. “This isn’t about personal feelings.”
“The hell it isn’t,” she snapped. “You haven’t liked either one of us. We aren’t like you, we have different opinions, and we second-guess you when we think you are making a stupid decision.” She folded her arms and gave me a smug smile. “What are you going to tell your employer? That you killed someone you were supposed to protect? I imagine that such news will not be well-received.”
“Don’t you get it?” I asked. “This is about protecting the group. Even you, Khamilah, or did you think that the men with machine guns were just going to let you walk away because you,” I used my left hand to make air quotes, “aren’t like us?”
“I, well. . .” Khamilah stammered.
“How about it, Nadir? Not for yourself, but for your wife’s sake. If more men come, she may get hurt. Do you really want that to be your legacy?”
“I can’t,” he sobbed. “I don’t . . .”
I moved my finger to the trigger. “So be it.”
“Stop!” Khamilah shouted.
My finger didn’t move. “Why?”
I heard her gulp. “Because it was me. I’m the traitor.”
Nadir shook his head. “No, dear. You don’t need to do this,” he coughed.
“It’s true. I have proof. Just let me get something from my bag.”
She reached into the bed of the truck and pulled out her handbag, the one that she had clutched so tightly this entire trip. She popped the clasp and opened it, then slid her hand into a hidden pocket sewn into the lining. Before she pulled out whatever she had hidden, she said, “Let him up.”
I tilted my head. “Khamilah, if you’re reaching for a gun, this will not end well for you.”
Her face scrunched up. “What? Oh, this is nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
She pointed to my foot, which was still on Nadir’s chest. I sighed and removed it, then helped Nadir climb to his feet. “Is she always this stubborn?” I asked him.
Despite the beating I had given him, he chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“What’s in the bag?” I asked.
In answer to my question, she plucked a rectangular metal object out of the hidden pocket. Without warning, she dropped it to the ground and stomped on it. Sparks flew and electronics ground together in the soft sand. “There,” she panted. “We don’t have to worry about them overhearing our conversations anymore.”
“What was that thing?” Azima asked.
“Some sort of listening device, apparently,” Nadir wheezed. “Probably with a built-in tracking device.” He seemed calm for a man with a gun still pointed in his face.
I felt sick. I had physically assaulted this man and threatened to murder him in cold blood. The rage burned so with such intensity that I almost lost control. And it still boiled inside me, demanded that I ignore all the words and take the vengeance I deserved.
I finally understood why God said that vengeance was His responsibility. No one could be trusted to handle that kind of thing wisely. It was no wonder Khamilah waited until the last possible second to admit her guilt. She was afraid that I would do the same thing to her.
“Nadir—” I stumbled as I backed away from him.
He brushed the dirt off of his jacket to the best of his ability. “No need to apologize. I deserved that and much worse for the pain I have forced into your life. Just promise me that you will not vent your anger upon my wife.” There was steel in his voice now, a sense of authority that I had not seen in him until now. “Let me suffer in her place.”
“No,” I shook my head. “There has been too much suffering already.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Kyle,” Azima said. “It’s nice to know you haven’t changed completely.”
I lifted my jacket and slid the gun into my waistband. “Khamilah, I’m not going to hurt you. But I need you to tell me everything, and quickly. When your handlers spot that your signal has gone dark, they will move in to your last known location. I’d rather not be here when they do that.”
Azima went to the truck’s driver-side window and knocked on the glass. Jamil popped the door open and the music became much louder. “You’re going to want to listen to this,” she told him.
“Sure thing,” he shouted. He hopped out of the truck, then helped Hashim climb out of the passenger side.
“Nice to have an audience,” Khamilah muttered.
“Come on, Khamilah,” I said. “Clock’s ticking.”
“All right, all right,” she raised her hands defensively. “Before Father Abiad called to offer us this chance at a new life, our situation was far from ideal. Our friends had abandoned us, and several had openly threatened us. The money Nadir and I had set aside for retirement quickly dried up. I was accustomed to a certain lifestyle when Nadir had been a rising star in the administration. When we were suddenly cut off, I was not prepared to change my habits. I soon incurred massive debts, debts that we would have never been able to repay.” She looked to her husband. “I did my best to hide this from you. I was afraid of what would happen if you discovered the truth.”
“Khamilah, you should have told me,” Nadir said. “We could have worked something out.”
“I guess we both have communications issues,” she replied. “I grew desperate for a solution. Suddenly, some of Nadir’s old friends from the Ministry of the Interior came by the house to visit us. Nadir was not home, but they said they had heard about our troubles and were willing to help.”
Nadir lowered his head. “Oh, dear, you didn’t . . .”
“But I did, Nadir,” she responded. “This was the first time in months that I spoke with an old acquaintance who wasn’t trying to throw a rock through our window. It seemed like the answer to my prayers. They pooled some money together and helped pay off my outstanding debts. When they called me later and asked for a favor, I was more than willing to oblige.”
I took a deep breath to clear the boiling rage from my thoughts. Between my anger at Khamilah’s betrayal and my shame for assaulting Nadir, I had to concentrate if I was going to maintain a level head. “Let me guess,” I said. “This favor involved spying on your husband.”
“They said it was for his own protection. They told me that there were people in the administration who thought that Nadir would betray the government, maybe even join the rebellion. I assured them that nothing could be farther from the truth, that we were still loyal to the rightful government.”
She looked down at her feet. “They told me that they believed me. They said that they were working on a way to clear his name, but they needed my help. If I could just get a listening device into my husband’s office, it would prove that he was not having secret meetings with the rebels.
“I was eager to repay the favor and defend my husband’s honor.” She looked at Nadir, though she didn’t meet his eyes. “I planted a small bug under your desk. They promised that it would only be for a short time so they could prove your loyalty had not shifted.”
Nadir’s eyes went wide with understanding. “I was in my office when Father Abiad called. They would have heard my entire side of the conversation.”
Khamilah started to roll her eyes, but stopped herself. So she was learning. “Don’t you think I know that? I almost fainted when you told me what the call had been about. I was contacted by Nadir’s former associates the next morning. They gave me the device and told me to keep it on my person at all times. My husband is right, it was some sort of tracker and microphone. If I refused or left it at home, they would arrest us both f
or treason. But if I helped them . . .”
She sighed. “I didn’t want to leave. I liked the life I had. I still want it back: the parties, the big house, the expensive clothes. So I compromised. They promised that no one would be hurt and that, once it was done, Nadir and I would be cleared of all charges and allowed to return home with a generous bonus. How could I refuse such an offer?”
“That explains the dragnet,” Azima said, “but how did they know to ambush us at Imady Consulting?”
“My guess? The secret police had the militia waiting in the city,” Jamil said. “When we stopped to board the helicopter, they would have swooped down to kill or arrest us. I’ve seen the government use forces like that when I was living in Homs.”
Nadir nodded. “Makes sense. And if there was indeed a microphone, they could have easily listened as we changed the landing zone to the Imady Consulting complex.”
“Does this mean that they know where we are headed?” Azima asked.
I thought about it, then shook my head. “No, Khamilah didn’t have her bag with her in the cafe. And I don’t remember mentioning Tartus again after we returned to the Land Cruiser.”
“Besides,” Jamil said, “if they knew our destination, they wouldn’t need to keep lookouts posted along our general route. They would just ambush us at the port like they did with the helicopter.”
“I have told you all I know,” Khamilah said. “What will you do with me?”
“I say we leave her,” Jamil replied without hesitation. “Let the government nab their prize. It will give the rest of us ample time to escape.”
“No,” Azima sounded disgusted at the thought. “She is repentant and still a member of this group.”
“A member of this group who betrayed us all,” Jamil responded. “If not for Kyle, they would be dragging our corpses from Imady Consulting. Or that gas station back there. And that includes your little boy.”
“I know that you feel betrayed, but we cannot abandon our humanity,” Nadir said. “What would Christ want us to do?”
“Jesus kissed Judas,” Jamil observed. “But that traitor had the decency to hang himself.”