Dula raised his head from where he’d been soaking Astaria’s neck. He looked up at Kaeden. His little body still shuddered with sobs but he was clearly intrigued by the notion of tame deer.
“Really?” he said in a husky whisper.
“Really. You want to go to America with me to meet them?”
Dula stared at him for several more moments then nodded before lowering his head to Astaria’s chest. Before long his soft snores announced he was asleep. Astaria lay him down on the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. Ravia stretched out on her cot. Despite their earlier naps both children were plainly tired.
“Good night,” the young girl whispered.
Astaria and Kaeden slipped out of the room, taking seats at the top of the stairs as the Hamadis had not yet gone to bed and they needed a little privacy. She sat between his legs with her back to his front, just finding comfort in his presence. She relayed the information Ravia had shared with her earlier, though, like her, he couldn’t see how it helped them understand the situation any better. He agreed that taking the children’s nanny away was just another added, and probably unnecessary, cruelty. He began stroking her hair and before long he was giving her a full scalp massage.
“Do you think it’ll be okay to take them back to the States?” he asked.
Astaria rolled her head her body melting into a puddle of relaxation under his hands. “I don’t know where else they could go. I’m sure they have relatives. Ya Allah. Who knows where they might be.”
“So they have prior claim?”
“Of course. But the children are royals. At some point they might want to come home,” she said.
“Yeah, but this country hasn’t had a royal ruler in thirty years. I can’t think of any countries that have returned to a monarchy after that many years,” he said, continuing with the delectable massage. He’d moved down to her shoulders now. Every motion of his fingers releasing tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying.
“I think France did, but it didn’t last long and it was a long time ago. Bottom line is, I have no idea. Until we know what Boulos’s plan is, we’re just spinning ourselves into butter for no purpose.”
He nodded and they sat there in the stairwell for a while longer before joining the children in bed.
*****
Astaria awoke with a wide boy-sized foot planted firmly on her nose. She looked down at Abdullah who was sleeping between herself and Kaeden. The little boy was on his stomach with his head turned toward the foot of the bed. She glanced over at Kaeden planning to turn the child around only to lock onto his sparkling gaze.
“Kid sleeps like he’s in an MMA bout. He’s been kicking me in the kidneys all night. Pretty sure I’ll be peeing blood come morning,” Kaeden groused.
He helped her turn the child around and just as they settled down again, Ravia let out a piercing scream. Astaria bounded out of the bed and reached down to the girl who was tossing and turning on her cot, muttering in distress. Astaria realized it was her restlessness that had awakened her, not Abdullah’s combative sleeping style.
“Wake up Ravia, you’re having a bad dream,” she said to Ravia.
Ravia sat up on the cot and opened her eyes, which were wet with tears. Astaria pulled the little girl onto her lap. “It’s okay, sweetheart, she murmured into the child’s hair. She rocked her back and forth.
“Mama and Babba went out that night,” Ravia said, her tear-soaked face an agonizing map of pain that looked profane on the face of one so young. Though she’d warned about Abdullah having nightmares, she hadn’t mentioned being troubled as well. Astaria held the girl in her arms, struggling to hold back her own tears while Ravia relayed the tragic events that had disturbed her sleep. After awakening briefly, Abdullah snuggled down against Kaeden and dozed back off. Kaeden held the child, as he watched Astaria and Ravia.
“They hardly ever went out, but Babba was home on leave and he wanted to take Mama out to show off her new dress. She looked so beautiful that night. Her dress was the prettiest blue. It swirled around like the ocean. And she was wearing gold heels. She promised me a pair of gold shoes. Princess shoes. Some old friends were having a dinner party, and Mama was so excited. Dula was in bed, but she let me stay up to watch her get dressed. She put on some lipstick and let me wear some too. I still have it.” The little girl leaned down to pick up a small pink handbag from beneath her pillow. She carried the bag with her everywhere and Astaria had wondered what it contained. The child pulled out tube of lipstick. Astaria recognized it as Chanel in its distinctive black casing. Ravia held onto it like a talisman. An artifact of the mother she had lost much too soon. Astaria continued to rock the child back and forth slowly.
“After they left I went to bed. Dula woke up and he got in bed with me. He used to do that all the time. His nanny was asleep too. We didn’t know, you see. We had no idea what had happened until the next morning.”
“I know precious. I know.”
“When we got up, Mama and Babba weren’t back and we knew something was wrong, then they came and told Dula’s nanny what happened. It was such a shock, she tried to keep us from hearing, but there was no way. They killed…They killed everyone at the party.”
Astaria pulled Ravia closer to her chest and continued the rocking motion as the child sobbed helplessly.
“We never saw them again, but Mama’s dress, somebody brought Mama’s dress. It was such a pretty blue, now it was ruined. The blood…Mama’s dress was ruined.”
Astaria wondered who would allow a child to see such a thing, but in these times, anything was possible. She feared that before this madness was over even suffering of this magnitude would pale in comparison to what was coming.
Chapter Ten
Then there was nothing. No one came for them or the children. No one brought any messages or papers. Astaria and Sarai went to the market every day trying glean more information. Rumors were flying fast and furiously. There was a coup in the offing. Then there wasn’t, though some ministers had been arrested and promptly execurted. They held their breath at that bit of news. After more than a week it was obvious that Boulos’s plan, whatever it was, had fallen through and the conspirators were either imprisoned or dead.
They debated back and forth furiously as to the wisdom of trying to escape especially since they still had the policeman uniform. But since they didn’t know for sure what had happened to Boulos or even if they were being watched such a move seemed unnecessarily risky. Developing a cover story without knowing what the original plan had been was virtually impossible. Had they not had the children the decision would’ve been easier. They would have tried to escape. As trained warriors neither of them was particularly fond of sitting around waiting for things to happen to them. But they didn’t want to take chances with the children. Their safety was paramount.
Salat jum`ah, Friday prayers that week was fraught with anxiety. They debated even taking the children, but eventually concluded it was best to do so. Security in the streets was considerably heightened, with soldiers and police highly visible everywhere. Obviously, violence was anticipated, but Friday prayers would be the best place to get additional information. Of course, much of it would be speculation, or even deliberately planted lies, but sometimes such tales had enough facts in them that could then be pieced together with other lies from which one could sometimes deduce the truth.
The mosque was located on the opposite side of the busy market square, not far from the Hamadis’ home. Like most of the buildings in Laria, it was eggshell colored stucco; it also had a towering minaret piercing clear blue sky. Aqua blue tile accented the building a reminder of the country’s long history as the source of beautiful local tile. As they entered the building, Astaria stepped in right foot first while making her silent supplications to Allah. Given current circumstances her prayer for peace and blessings upon the Prophet was probably more ardent than usual. Holding onto Ravia’s hand she followed Sarai into the smaller area that was cordoned off f
or women, while Kaeden and Dawood continued into the main sanctuary with Abdullah. She and Sarai prostrated themselves in prayer to make their rakats, then knelt for the sermon.
As Dawood had predicted, no one recognized the children, and everyone was so distracted by the gossip as to how the war was going, they probably could’ve marched the French Foreign Legion through the mosque without comment.
After the service, the imam caught her eye signaling that he had a communiqué. This would be tricky. Women attending Friday prayers at the masjid was controversial for some, though the imam at this mosque had always permitted it. She approached him, still holding little Ravia’s hand. The child rarely let her out of her sight and given the trauma she’d already endured, Astaria couldn’t blame her. Kaeden was carrying Abdullah, as usual, but also because the press of the crowd was simply too much for the child. When she was close enough to the imam who was speaking to another congregant, she knelt as though to adjust the child’s shoe.
The imam, recognizing the stratagem dropped a tiny wisp of paper at her feet. Astaria picked it up and immediately shoved it into the pocket of her long skirt. Her encounter with the imam was so brief even the closest observer wouldn’t have noted, but the small scrap of paper in her pocket carried tremendous weight. She was terrified it was a death notice and even after they returned to the Hamadi home she was reluctant to look at it. When she did so it took her a moment to realize it wasn’t in code. At least none she recognized.
20 R 12
She stared at the communiqué for a while longer, trying to gather some meaning from the oblique missive. Finally she concluded that 20 had to mean a time. Twenty hundred hours or 8:00 p.m.
“Your brother is a man of few words,” Kaeden mused from his position looking over her shoulder as she sat at the dining room table. Both children had been given a snack and were upstairs. Abdullah was napping and Ravia was reading a book.
“If I didn’t know Mama hounded him until he could be bothered with school, I would swear he was illiterate,” Astaria said kissing her teeth in irritation.
“I’m sure he assumed you could figure it out or he wouldn’t have written it that way,” he said.
“That’s what we have codes for,” she groused.
“Twenty is either 8:00 or it could mean a location, or both,” Kaeden offered.
“Yes, I came to that conclusion too. Could R mean a row like in a concert hall?”
“Or maybe a football stadium. Of course there are probably dozens around here,” he said.
“Yes, there are, but I don’t think it’s a football station. I think it’s a cinema,” she said.
“Cinema?” he frowned.
“Yes. Halil is absolutely movie crazy. Fighting with the LOV he’s probably missed his habit and is taking this opportunity, to get two outs with one pitch. Only my brother would want to go to the cinema in the middle of a war.”
Kaeden scratched his beard. Though the hair was so silky it didn’t even leave beard burn on her skin it tended to bother him as he was so accustomed to being smooth-shaven. “It’s a common clandestine meeting place. I’ve used it myself. Question is, which one? There are quite a few,” he said.
“He has a favorite. Not too far from here. They show martial arts movies a lot. Halil is mad for them.”
“See. Told you he knew you could figure it out. I assume the night is tonight since he didn’t put a date on it.”
Astaria nodded. “It’s not far, I could walk there easily in fifteen minutes, probably less.”
“You mean we.”
“No, I said what I meant,” she said.
“We’re not even having this conversation. You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“What about the children? One of us should be here to guard them.”
“At that time of the night they’ll be asleep. Sarai and Dawood are more than adequate, and we’ll only be a few minutes away should anything happen.”
Astaria closed her eyes. The man was going to drive her insane. “Do you really think I’m in danger meeting my own brother?”
“In this country right now I’d think you’re in danger going to the toilet,” he said his chin raised at a mulish tilt.
Finally she capitulated because it was clear he was prepared to argue all night if need be.
“Fine, you can come with me,” she said.
“Good. I haven’t seen a martial arts movie in a while. This should be fun.”
They decided to walk to the theater, as it was only a few blocks away. Astaria sighed as they made their way through the streets. The buildings and even the sidewalks were marred with pockmarks from the many firefights and even shelling that had accompanied the Uprising. Laria had always been, and still was, a beautiful city. The light from the setting sun painted the pale buildings in a glorious palette of terra cotta hues, but in the current climate no one had repaired the damage left by the fighting and the buildings themselves looked sad and disheveled. Colonel al-Fariq, in his obsessive need to maintain his image abroad, had consciously kept the capital pristine, even while the rest of the country fell to rack and ruin. Now even that façade had been torn away, showing putrid decay underneath. Astaria was grateful the streets were relatively empty because of the quarantine as it made it easier to avoid the potholes in the sidewalks, and because it made it obvious they were being followed.
“You hear them?” she asked Kaeden.
“Yeah. Two guys. One is a pretty big fucker. I’ll take him,” he gritted out. Totally Marine and nothing could have thrilled her more. “You ready for the other one?”
She nodded, and with that they sped up until they were nearly running. The men followed, at the same pace giving up any pretense of concealment. Just when the men had almost reached them, they cut to the right into a narrow alley. The men followed right behind them. Astaria dropped to the ground. Using her legs in a sweeping motion, she took her assailant’s feet from under him. He face-planted into the pavement and she drove her heel into the back of his head with a forceful blow. There was a crunch as his face crashed into the concrete and he didn’t make another sound.
Having dispatched her attacker so expeditiously Astaria had time to check on Kaeden. The knife appeared in his hand with such speed it was hard to believe it hadn’t been there all along. They both had handguns on them but were reluctant to use them with others around. Kaeden preferred to use his Arkansas Toothpick and Astaria wasn’t as skilled with small arms as she was with a rifle, so she was relieved that they’d managed to get the job done.
Kaeden jabbed the knife into the man’s back just above his kidneys, then jumped back to avoid the spurt of blood when he pulled the knife free. The man dropped to his knees, then fell to the ground dead, or near death. Kaeden wiped the blood off his knife on the man’s shirt and re-sheathed it. He looked over at Astaria.
“You okay?”
She nodded as she rose to her feet. “And you?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “This doesn’t feel right.” As they turned to exit the alley a large military vehicle pulled up to the curb with a squeal of tires. Convinced that the assailants’ back up had arrived Astaria crouched in combat position and Kaeden’s knife immediately reappearing flashing lethally in light of the setting sun.
“Get in,” Halil said through the open passenger side window. Astaria had never been so grateful to see her brother in her life. She grabbed Kaeden and they jumped into the back of the vehicle. The driver took off with another screech of burning rubber.
“What the hell was that all about?” Halil asked, looking into the backseat where both Kaeden and Astaria were winding down from their adrenaline high.
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you could tell me,” Kaeden said, his soft voice belying the anger she could feel coming off him in waves.
Astaria turned to him with a gasp, “You don’t think—”
“I think it’s a bit convenient that we were ambushed on our way to
meet with him,” Kaeden said his voice even softer.
Astaria was struggling not to panic. Kaeden was just barely holding it together. The last thing she wanted was a fight between the two men she cared most about in the world.
“I’d hardly set you up when you had my sister with you. Not to mention, you’re my brother by marriage. As a general rule, I don’t kill kin,” Halil said, glaring at Kaeden from beneath his heavy brows. His expression made it clear he was reconsidering that policy.
Astaria gathered her scattered thoughts for a way to stop this. Halil was only holding back for her sake. For the first time in her life she was seeing Halil not as her baby brother but as a man and a deadly one at that. Kaeden’s accusation was unforgivable, but she’d be damned if she was going to let them fight. The consequences in either direction were unthinkable. She forced herself to calm down enough to think clearly. Details of the fight were coming back to her. There had to be some clues as to who was actually responsible.
“Kaeden, they called you ‘the American.’ They said it twice,” she said, trying to recall as much information as possible.
“They did?” he asked, still staring at Halil as though he welcomed a deadly encounter. The air in the SUV was thick with menace and testosterone. She knew he was only waiting for her brother to make a move.
“You didn’t hear them?” she asked.
“I didn’t hear anything. I was focused on killing the bastards before they could take you,” he said grimly.
Astaria frowned in confusion. “Me? Why did you assume they were after me?”
He turned to look at her as though she’d suddenly beamed down from another planet. “You’re an escaped prisoner. You’ve been fighting with a resistance group. You spent years guarding the leader of the previous regime. A leader whose head wound up on a pike. You’ve managed to piss off every goddamned side of tetrahedron of a conflict. The only wonder is that everyone in the country isn’t trying to kill you,” he said.
Pussycat in Peril (Pussycat Death Squad Book 3) Page 11