As he passed her closet, he spotted the Arabian clothing she had worn to the desert. She had looked so beautiful and happy. His Arabian princess. He remembered how he had joked with her about leaving her in the desert and how her eyes had shined when Elder Malik complimented her. He touched the blouse, feeling the soft silk between his fingers, and thought about how Shelby’s body had molded to his as she slept on the ride home. He let go of the shirt and tried to remember what she had been wearing the last time he saw her. Jeans, a blouse, and of course, her red boots.
With a groan, he sank on the small sofa and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The same questions that had plagued him for days pounded in his brain. Was she warm at night? Was she comfortable? Hungry? In pain? How were they treating her? Would he ever see Shelby again? Hakim had never felt so desperate, angry, and helpless in his life.
****
When the timid woman came again, Shelby found the entire outer room filled with people. For some reason, the sight felt ominous, and Shelby shook with fear.
The room was small, and the people packed there made it even smaller. She counted at least twenty. Men wearing dishdashas lounged on cushions on the floor. A group of women dressed in traditional black abayas and headscarves, and even some wearing full black burqas, were crowded together near the kitchen.
Shelby had to walk close as she passed. She looked into each of the women’s eyes, searching for the smallest sign of pity. There was none. As her gaze moved toward the men in the room, Shelby felt a jolt of recognition. Even though he turned away and covered his face, Shelby couldn’t mistake the drooping eye. Usman. What was he doing here? She kept her face neutral, as if she hadn’t seen him, stifling the impulse to run and beg him to get her out of here. Instead, she concentrated on the different people. Trying to figure out the dynamic of the group. Who was the leader?
All of the people watched as Shelby walked past.
She knew from the expressions on their faces that she was being displayed.
Mr. Hairy and company were showing off. A few of the men laughed.
They spoke words that she didn’t understand, but knew must be insults. Cowards. They wouldn’t dare talk like that to me if I wasn’t a prisoner. However, she gave no sign that she heard or understood them. Chin lifted high, she marched to the bathroom, ignoring them all. She closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, trying to calm her pounding heart. Instinctively, she’d known not to show any fear. She breathed deeply and splashed water on her face. When she came out, she heard some of the men talking.
“Two days.” One man typed on a laptop.
Shelby thought he looked like a typical techie, even though he wore a dishdasha and keffiya instead of a Sci-Fi T-shirt and ripped jeans.
Usman stood near him, his face turned away.
Shelby couldn’t understand what the other men said. The only phrases she understood were: “Prince Hakim,” “valuable,” and “won’t refuse.”
She returned to the cold closet with all the dignity she could muster. After she closed the door, she wondered what they were talking about. But only a second passed before she knew with a sinking heart that she was valuable. She was what the prince would not refuse. She would be used to force Hakim into doing what these people wanted. And she had just two days to figure out what to do about it.
Hearing voices outside, Shelby leaned her ear against the door, listening closely. One word was repeated over and over. She didn’t recognize it, but she knew it was important. Even the shrill-voiced screaming lady was saying it. Al-Khalija. They talked about things happening ‘at’ Al-Khalija or going ‘to’ Al-Khalija. She wished she understood more. Besides the talk about the big deal going down with the prince, she also heard talk about a major event happening on May first.
May first. The day of the derby. Shelby felt a heaviness in her heart. She imagined how it would have been to wear a big hat and sit next to Hakim as they cheered for his horses. There is always next year, right? But she was pretty sure there wouldn’t be a next year. Even if she got out of this prison, she had no idea what the future would hold for their relationship.
She had done the right thing. She couldn’t keep living a life that didn’t belong to her, one where she was being someone else. But thinking about leaving Hakim caused such pain it took her breath away.
With her wrists untied, Shelby worked the aches out of her shoulders and made sure to switch her position often to keep her muscles from stiffening. She didn’t have high hopes that there would be a chance to escape, but if the opportunity did present itself, she wanted to be ready. As she listened through the door over the next few days, Shelby often heard what she thought was one side of a phone conversation. Sometimes, she heard more people talking in the outer room, but they never strayed far from their regular topics. May first. Al-Khalija. They appeared to be spreading the word. Letting everyone know their plan. She blew out an agitated breath, wishing she could figure out a way to warn Hakim.
Shelby was woken suddenly from her sleep and yanked out of her prison. Someone forced her hands behind her and tied her wrists together. A bag was crammed over her head, and she was half-led and half-dragged into the main room where she was pushed down onto her knees.
She heard men speaking, but the movement around her prevented her from hearing anything clearly until the bag was torn off. Looking around disoriented, she saw the men all wore scarves, concealing their faces. They held guns, pointed at her.
She wanted to scream, but suppressed it. Her breath came fast. She could feel her heart pounding so hard that thumps sounded in her ears. She darted her gaze around. A red light caught her eye, glowing from the top of a video camera sitting on a tripod.
After days of waiting, finally some action was being taken. They were filming her and trying to make her appear as vulnerable as possible for Hakim. For his sake, she knew she must show no fear.
****
Hakim sat at Shelby’s desk, holding the picture from the reception as he had so many times before when he heard a noise outside the door.
“Your Highness!” Nasir burst into the room. “A video is being streamed onto the internet. It is Miss Walker.”
Hakim and Nasir ran to the security office where the Sheik and various security agents waited. They all stood around a large computer monitor as the technical analyst pulled up the grainy image.
Six masked men wearing military clothes and holding automatic weapons stood shoulder to shoulder in a cement room.
Nasir squinted and leaned closer to the screen. “M249 military-issue automatic machine guns,” he said. “Probably close to twenty-five years old, cumbersome, with an exposed hot barrel. They look impressive, but these weapons haven’t been retrofitted with the latest upgrade, and see how the men are awkwardly holding the sharp edges against their bodies. They have no experience with these guns. Amateurs.”
Even with a cloth bag on her head and her arms tied behind her back, Hakim recognized Shelby as an unidentified masked man led her into the room.
He shoved her roughly to her knees and uncovered her face.
Hakim grasped the back of the analyst’s chair.
Shelby was thinner, her hair was wild, and for a moment, she appeared as though she would completely succumb to her panic. However, composing herself, she lifted her chin and gazed at the camera with an expression of confidence.
Nasir nodded and muttered, “Good girl. Do not show them any fear. Doing so will only increase their power over you.”
Hakim stared at the screen and vaguely registered Nasir and the other security agents discussing the images.
Nasir pointed toward the screen. “The windows are covered to prevent any type of location analysis based on the sun or surrounding buildings.” He moved his finger, indicating the men. “They stand too close together and hold their weapons nervously. Obviously, they are not soldiers, making the situation all the more dangerous for Miss Walker.”
One of the masked men stepped clos
e behind Shelby as he spoke. “And so you see, dear Prince,” he spat out the word. “Nahl has something that is very valuable to you.” He stroked the side of Shelby’s face with the barrel of his gun.
Trembling, Shelby closed her eyes.
Hakim’s breathing came in gasps—his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the chair.
The man continued, “We have a few simple requests. The current government is corrupt and allying itself foolishly with Western countries. The ways of our Fathers are being forgotten in favor of modernism. This must end!” He pointed his finger at the camera.
The men behind him cheered.
“We demand Sheik Rashid and his son Hakim leave the country and never return. They will be replaced by men who believe in the Traditions of Khali-dar. Alliances with Western countries will be cut off, and the kingdom will be returned to its former self-sufficiency and glory. We also demand our brothers who have been wrongfully imprisoned be freed immediately. They are innocent and should be regarded as heroes of Khali-dar for attempting to rid the kingdom of corrupt leaders.”
Hakim felt his chest tighten. He glanced at his father and saw the Sheik’s face was pale and his eyes hard.
“Now,” he spoke in English as he knelt and put his face next to Shelby’s. “I would like for Prince Hakim’s consort to add her voice to our cause.”
Although his accent sounded thick, the taunting tone came through loud and clear. Hakim cursed between clenched teeth.
“Go ahead, Shelby Walker. Tell your prince to do as we say. Plead with him to save you.” As he spoke, he curled his fingers around her neck.
Shelby took in a deep breath. She looked directly into the camera and held up her head. “Hakim.” She spoke in a loud voice.
The men behind her chuckled.
Ignoring their cruel laughter, she squared her shoulders. “If you do what these vile men say, they will destroy the country you love. Do not give in to—”
The man next to her thrust his hand over her mouth to silence her.
She bit down and jerked her head to the side, smashing into his face. Shelby faced directly at the camera and yelled, “Stay strong, Hakim! Don’t—”
Glaring, the man backhanded her across the face, and another slammed the butt of his rifle into her forehead.
Shelby crumpled to the ground.
Hakim drew in a sharp breath, and his body tensed.
He raised his gun to strike again, but the man with the broken nose yelled through a mouth full of blood. “No, we must follow orders. We will wait until tomorrow at sundown.” He turned his bloody face to the camera. “And then, Prince Hakim. We will make this woman an example of your foolish western ideology. She will pay the price, painfully, for the choices you have made.”
“No!” Hakim screamed as the screen went blank. He picked up the computer monitor and threw it across the room. It slammed into a giant plasma screen with a spray of sparks. “Nasir. We must find her,” the prince pleaded.
“Yes, Your Highness. We are doing everything we can.”
The Sheik placed his hand on Hakim’s back, leading him away from the computer terminal. “Come, son. You have not slept in days. You must eat.” He softened his voice. “And you must again call Shelby’s family.”
Hakim shook. His throat constricted, and he clenched his fists. Knowing his legs would no longer support him, the prince sank into a chair, wrapping his arms around his stomach to try to ease the ache.
****
Shelby regained consciousness slowly. She tried to move her head and moaned as pain throbbed. Her arms were still tied, and she was too weak to struggle with the rope. She laid still, her memory returning in flashes.
Her face had been covered. She saw the men with weapons, their faces hidden. Mr. Hairy mocking her, insulting Hakim. Biting his hand. That was disgusting. Smashing his nose. Kind of awesome. And after that, pain had exploded in her head, blinding her. She wondered vaguely if she was bleeding. She was too tired to lift her head and check.
The house was silent, and Shelby was grateful. She didn’t want to listen any more. She should have blurted out Al-Kalija instead of saying anything else. For days, he had been planning to get that information to Hakim. She had her chance, and she’d blown it once she’d seen the camera and thought of his face watching. He needed to know everything was all right. That she didn’t blame him. Why had she felt the need to comfort Hakim instead of giving him the clue that might unravel the terrorists’ plans?
Shelby was almost too tired to feel disappointed in herself. She was pretty sure Nahl wouldn’t be releasing her now. A hostage who didn’t do what you wanted wasn’t valuable. So, they would kill her.
Wasn’t she supposed to feel desperate? Afraid? Her mind was too fuzzy to hold onto anything for very long. She did feel a pang of regret when she thought of Hakim. She had never told him how she felt about him. That they could work out their differences and figure out a way to be together. Is this what it took to realize a life with him was what she wanted? She heard the door to the outside unlatch and gave a little start. It sounded like shrill-voice-lady was home.
Memories of riding Al-qamar with Hakim, looking into his eyes, watching him laugh, eased Shelby back into unconsciousness.
****
Hakim did not know how long he sat in the security office after he talked to the Walkers. He had never felt so useless. Shelby was out there somewhere, and she needed him. Yet, he was powerless to do anything.
Nasir, the head of security, and his father had all taken turns checking on him. Someone even left food on the table, but each recognized his desire to be left alone.
He must have dozed off and woke suddenly when the sun began to shine through the glass door ushering in the day he knew would be Shelby’s last. Hakim heard arguing and stepped through the doorway to investigate. There in the hall, he saw the stable boy. What is his name? Kadir. The sight of him brought a lump to Hakim’s throat. He thought of the picture of the two in Shelby’s room.
Kadir argued with the guards who held his arms, pulling him away.
“Wait.” Hakim held up a hand.
“Your Highness, I am sorry this boy has disturbed you,” a guard said, bowing.
Hakim silenced him with a look. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, meeting the boy’s eyes. “Kadir, what is wrong?”
Kadir gazed up at Hakim, his dark eyes wide. “I think I know where Miss Walker is.”
Hakim breathed to calm the racing of his heart, knowing it would only lead to more pain if he allowed himself to hope. “Tell me.”
“I was carrying a bag of groceries for my mother home from the souq when a woman stepped onto the sidewalk in front of me, and we collided, spilling both of our bags. I could not see the woman’s face beneath her burqa, but she yelled in a high voice as I hurried to gather our spilled food.” Kadir glanced at the guards.
Hakim squeezed his shoulder to regain his attention. “Please, continue.”
“She bent to pick up her bags, and I saw the woman was wearing Miss Walker’s red cowboy boots.” The boy twisted his fingers together. “I followed her, staying far behind so she would not see me. She went into a house, and I hid behind a car and waited to see if she would come back out.”
Hakim leaned closer. This was the first hint they’d found of Shelby’s location. “Tell me about the house, Kadir.”
The windows were covered with heavy curtains, and while I watched, more people came and left. But I did not see the woman again.”
Hakim summoned Nasir and asked Kadir to repeat the story.
Some of the guards whispered to each other, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes.
“Could you find this house again?” asked Nasir, glaring at the other men, ending any further cynicism.
“Yes.” The boy gave a vigorous nod.
Twenty minutes later, a convoy of armored vehicles sped through the city. Once the decision had been made, the police force was mobilized.
Na
sir drove the lead vehicle with Kadir and Hakim in the back seat. Nasir had simply nodded when Hakim refused to remain at the palace.
When they reached the house Kadir indicated, Hakim grabbed the door handle.
Nasir cleared his throat. “Your Highness, I know you are anxious to get in there and find Miss Walker. However, I must insist you remain where it is safe.”
Hakim opened his mouth to argue. His stomach clenched, and adrenaline shot like electricity through his veins. He needed to get into that house and see if Shelby was inside.
“We do not know what we will find.” Nasir shook his head. “There are too many variables, and your safety must be our primary objective.”
“I will wait. But not for long.” Hakim sat back and clenched his hands into fists.
Nasir exited the car and walked to the other side, leaning against the door, his weapon drawn, and his gaze glued on the house.
Soldiers burst from the other vehicles and surrounded the small house, breaking down the door and storming through.
Hakim could see a flurry of movement through the open door. The curtains on the windows shifted, and he strained to see inside. His heart pounded as more soldiers were waved in, and then everything was silent. Hakim’s mind churned with questions. Had they found the right house? Was Shelby inside? Were they too late? He glanced to his side at Kadir.
The boy stared wide-eyed at the house, his hands clenched into tight fists that made his knuckles white.
The prince patted the boy’s knee, catching his gaze and giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile, although it felt strained and probably appeared more like a grimace. He turned his attention back to the house, the silence stretching until he could not stand it any longer and he pushed opened the door.
Nasir took in a breath as if he would protest, but at that moment, an officer appeared at the door, giving the “all-clear” signal.
Heart racing, Hakim bounded from the car and followed Nasir into the house, his heart in his throat. He could hear snatches of conversation around him.
“…we were met with no resistance…”
“…confiscated their cache of weapons…”
The Sheik's Ruby Page 24