by Susan Cliff
He walked around to the passenger side and searched the glove compartment for an old rag and a lighter. He stuck the end of the rag in the gas tank. Then he shifted into Drive. As the Jeep rolled forward, Hud lit the rag.
Now it was sure to cause a scene.
He started running at full speed, putting distance between himself and the moving vehicle. He sprinted through the trees and made a wide circle toward the back of the barn, where he could stage an attack from the rear.
His diversion worked a little too well. The Jeep rolled straight to the front of the barn, drawing gunfire from multiple assailants. Then it kept right on going. It crashed through the entrance and exploded on impact. Everything went up in flames.
Holy hell.
Hud ducked his head low as he crept along the side of the barn. There was a rear exit, so he stood next to it with his gun drawn. The first man out was unlucky. Hud took him down with a single shot.
The next man didn’t make the same mistake. He stopped at the sight of his fallen comrade and retreated into the recesses of the burning building. Hud pursued, because the element of surprise was gone. The man lifted his weapon a split second too late. Hud eliminated him with two to the chest.
His eyes adjusted to the dark space, which was rapidly filling with smoke. He crept forward, staying low. There were two more men on the ground. Both were dead. Hud followed a blur of movement into the corner of the barn. Al-Bayat stood with Layah. He had a gun pressed to her temple. His face was sweaty, his eyes crazed.
“We meet again,” Al-Bayat said in heavily accented English.
Hud gestured with his weapon. “Let her go.”
“Why would I do that? I want to watch her bleed.”
“Let her go, and you can have me.”
“No,” Layah protested, struggling to break free.
“You sacrifice yourself for a woman?”
He nodded. “I’ll put my weapon down. You release her. As soon as she’s out the door, I’m all yours.”
“You are a fool.”
“Do you want to return to Rahim a success or die here a failure?”
Al-Bayat considered this question. He was sweating profusely. The interior of the barn was blazing hot and airless. Hud was impervious to the discomfort; he’d suffered far worse in the torture chamber.
“Don’t do it,” Layah said.
“Think of my beheading,” Hud suggested, ignoring her. “It will be your best show. So many views. So many converts.”
“You aren’t that important, American.”
“Sure I am,” Hud said. “That’s why Rahim sent you after me. You’re far away from the battle zones, aren’t you? Rahim must not need you on the front lines. Maybe he found a replacement killer.”
“Shut up,” Al-Bayat said, his hand fisted in Layah’s hair. “You know nothing.”
“It can’t be that hard to cut off heads. Any village butcher can do it.”
Al-Bayat didn’t like this conversation. He was a madman, but a calculating one. He was ambitious and self-aggrandizing. His favor with Rahim could be in jeopardy. “You are eager to return to my prison?”
“It wasn’t so bad.”
“I have a recording of your screams as I burned your flesh.”
“That didn’t even leave a scar.”
Al-Bayat’s mouth thinned with displeasure. Hud knew he wouldn’t release Layah. Al-Bayat knew Hud wouldn’t back down. It was a standoff. Hud didn’t care if the roof was on fire. He didn’t care if his clothes were on fire. He wasn’t leaving without Layah.
One of the ceiling beams plummeted to the ground next to them. The moment of distraction was all he needed. Layah shoved away from Al-Bayat and Hud pulled the trigger. Al-Bayat fired at the same time.
Hud’s aim was true. Al-Bayat’s wasn’t. The Da’esh executioner dropped his weapon and careened forward, clutching his chest.
Hud didn’t wait to make sure he was dead. The roof was caving in on them, raining flames and debris. He covered his nose with the crook of his arm and grabbed Layah. They ran through the smoke together.
Then they were outside, tripping over the bodies of their enemies. Hud pulled her forward and kept moving, as if the fire might chase them. He didn’t know how many locals Al-Bayat had paid to assist his scheme.
When they were at a safe distance, he paused to free her wrists. She sobbed in relief, throwing her arms around him. He held her for several seconds, his chest tight with emotion. Then they broke apart and started running again.
They ran because they were in Azerbaijan, at the scene of a horrific crime. The authorities would respond to the fire and discover the bodies. Even if the police here were friendly toward Americans, not allies of the Da’esh, Hud didn’t want to get detained. Layah ran with him, matching his pace.
They ran across fallow fields and over rocky hills. They ran until Layah couldn’t run anymore. She collapsed at the base of a gnarled oak tree, gasping for breath. Hud rested with her, his hands on his knees. When her shoulders shook with silent tears, he sat down and put his arms around her.
“Shh,” he said, stroking her hair. “We’re okay.”
“I thought you were dead,” she choked.
“I know.”
“You don’t know, William. You don’t know how it felt to see the body!”
He kissed the top of her head. “Tell me.”
She pushed away from him, her lips trembling. “There was a man wearing your clothes, with his face covered. Soaked in blood.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth, silent.
“They put a hood on Khalil in Palmyra.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Al-Bayat said he begged for mercy.”
“Al-Bayat is a liar. And now he’s gone.”
“You killed him,” she said in a flat voice. “You killed all of them.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes shone with tears again. He didn’t expect her to celebrate his actions. She wasn’t a battle-scarred soldier, like him. He’d fantasized about taking down Al-Bayat for years, and he wouldn’t lose any sleep over the bloodshed. Sometimes victory was empty, or void of triumph. This wasn’t one of those times. He felt a grim satisfaction in dispatching The Butcher. He’d done what he had to do to survive, and to save Layah.
He cupped her chin, checking her for injuries. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did any of them hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“How do we get to Armenia from here?”
She wiped her cheeks and took a ragged breath. “I’m not sure. The borders between Armenia and Azerbaijan have been closed for a long time. The two countries are not at peace with each other.”
“Of course they aren’t.”
“It is easier to cross from Iran.”
“I’m not going back to Iran. Ever.”
Sadness flitted across her features. “I understand that. We can take the bus, or get a ride closer to the border. Then we will find a place to cross.”
“Let’s go.”
There was a road on the opposite side of the hill, with sparse traffic and a bus stop. Hud waited there with Layah, his mind quiet. A man with a cart passed by, selling leather sandals. Layah declined the sandals but inquired about the flannel shirt tied to the cart. She paid for it with coins from her pocket.
Hud shrugged out of the border guard’s shirt, which was conspicuously decorated with blood, and put on the faded flannel. When the bus arrived, they boarded without incident. They rode to the last stop, a small village called Ordubad. Then they got off the bus and walked. A truck driver offered a ride to the end of the road. By noon, they were only a few miles from the Armenian border.
“Do you want to keep going?” he asked Layah.
“Yes. We’re too close to stop.”
It wasn’t as difficult to reach Armenia as he’d imagined. The border was in a remote location, quiet and unpatrolled. There might be tension between the two countries, but there was peace within them, and stable borders.
They followed a set of old train tracks for three or four miles at the most. Then they reached the outskirts of an idyllic little town in a green valley. Layah stopped and grasped his hand, inhaling a sharp breath.
“This is Agarak,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Yeah?”
Her eyes, which had been dark from the day’s trauma, brightened like stars. “It is Armenia.”
“We made it.”
She moved her sparkling gaze from the town to his face. “We made it.”
He was mesmerized by her beauty, astounded by her strength and resilience. He brought her knuckles to his mouth for a kiss. She had a red mark on her wrist from the plastic tie, so he kissed there, too. His throat closed up and his heart thumped hard inside his chest. He had to tell her how he felt, right here and now. “I love you.”
To his surprise, she pulled away from him. “No.”
“No?”
“This is where we say goodbye.”
He flinched as if she’d struck him.
“We are finally in Armenia, my father’s homeland. I have been dreaming about this moment for so long. I’ve been striving for it, saving for it. But it is my destination, not yours. This is where you leave me.”
He shook his head in denial. “It doesn’t have to be.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh?”
Frustration welled up within him. They’d just survived impossible odds. He’d rescued her from certain death. They’d finally reached a safe place, and he’d shared his deepest feelings. He didn’t want to be brought down by harsh reality. They were alive! He wanted to kiss her and embrace her and celebrate the moment.
“You left me this morning,” she said. “Do you remember?”
“I remember.”
She gave him a pointed look.
“You think that was easy for me? You think I wanted to?”
“It is not a matter of want, William. You will leave again.”
He grasped her shoulders. “Come with me.”
“Stop.”
He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop until she agreed to be his. “I can’t live without you, Layah. I’m in love with you. I don’t care how impossible you think it is for us to be together. I’m going to make it happen. I’ll do whatever it takes. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty good at challenges. I can overcome any obstacle in my way, and I don’t quit, ever.”
She held up her palm. “I refuse.”
“You refuse what?”
“To let you break my heart with this fantasy.”
“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll give it up.”
Her brow furrowed at his request. She didn’t deny that she shared his feelings, but she turned her back on him, looking across the hillside. “The night Khalil left, we argued. I begged him not to join the rebels. He wasn’t a soldier. I said he was throwing his life away. He told me he would think about it, and we...made peace.”
She meant that he’d made love to her. Hud’s gut clenched at the comparison.
“When I woke up, he was gone. I never saw him again.”
“I’m not him, Layah.”
“You are worse. Twice as stubborn and ten times as fearless.”
“I’m trained for combat.”
“The problem is not your profession. It is your failure to see the truth. Our parting is inevitable.”
He wanted to argue with her, to convince her that they could overcome any obstacles. But he didn’t know what the future held. He would have to leave as soon as he talked to his commander. He couldn’t stay in Armenia indefinitely.
“I’ll come back to you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her again.
She accepted his embrace, if not his words. Her fingers threaded through the short hair at his nape. “Let us proceed with eyes wide open. This is temporary. It is a passionate affair we will remember always. I enjoy your hands on my body and your mouth on my skin. Let us have that, without the promises.”
“I want both. I want everything.”
“You can’t have everything.”
He could, and he would. He’d have her by whatever means necessary. Because this wasn’t a fantasy for him. It wasn’t a short fling. He’d made bad choices with women before, and he’d learned from his mistakes. As a SEAL, he’d learned to take calculated risks, instead of stupid ones.
Marrying Michelle had been a stupid risk. They’d had nothing in common outside of the bedroom. He’d needed space, and she’d needed the opposite. They hadn’t communicated or connected on a deeper level.
With Layah, he knew he’d met his match. He felt it in his bones. She was the one. They were right for each other. She was fiercely independent, and more than willing to speak her mind. He could tell her anything. They’d forged an unbreakable bond on this journey. He wasn’t going to let go now.
Sure, they’d hit some rough spots along the way. She’d deceived him a few times. The difference was that she hadn’t done it thoughtlessly, or for selfish reasons. She’d sworn to protect her family, just as he’d sworn to protect his team.
If they could get out of Iran, they could do anything. They could overcome any obstacle. He wasn’t going to stop fighting until he convinced her.
They had all night.
He removed her hand from his hair, because he was already getting aroused. She smiled, aware of the effect she had on him. He smiled back, intent on making her his.
They continued down the hill to Agarak. There was an inn at the end of a cobblestone street, across from a café. He wasn’t in the mood for a feast, for once. Maybe his body had finally recovered from the days of near starvation.
He was hungry for her and only her.
She ordered a light meal of chicken soup with flatbread and mineral water. There were pistachio cookies for dessert. They walked to the inn at sunset. She used the last of her money to pay for a room. It was a budget-friendly place, clean and basic, with a bed that wasn’t big enough for what he intended.
“I’ll have to sleep on top of you,” he said.
“Will we sleep?”
He pulled her into his arms. “Not if I can help it,” he said, kissing her soft mouth. She smiled against his lips, acquiescent. He lifted her up and carried her into the tiny bathroom, where he set her down on the vanity sink. “Let’s shower.”
“Both of us?”
“That’s the best way to do it.”
“I don’t think we fit.”
“I’ll show you.”
He stripped off her tunic, which smelled like smoke. His flannel shirt smelled worse, like sheep and sweat. They struggled out of boots and pants and undergarments. Then she was standing naked before him.
“God in heaven,” he said, ogling her nude form. She took his breath away. She was all soft skin and dark hair and lush beauty. Her nipped-in waist made a dramatic contrast to her full breasts and flared hips. “You’re perfect.”
She laughed at this claim, as if he was exaggerating. He dropped to his knees before her, spanning her waist with his hands.
“I love this spot,” he said, touching his lips to the curve beneath her belly button. Her abdomen wasn’t flat and hard like his. It was cushiony and feminine. She had the kind of shape that a fashion magazine might airbrush into a sleeker profile. Which was a crying shame, because the sight of her rounded hips cradling his thrusts was incredibly erotic. He kissed both hip bones, watching her little belly quiver.
He could smell her womanly scent, rich and warm. His mouth watered for a taste of her, but she shyly covered her mound with one hand. He could wait until she was begging for it. He rose to
his feet, his erection rising high. She studied him with half-lidded eyes. He turned on the shower to let the water heat up. Then they stepped inside the stall.
It was a tight fit. Deliciously tight. Her slippery wet body plastered against his. Water rained down his back as he filled his hands with her buttocks. He shuddered with pleasure. His staff nudged her slick belly.
“Damn,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“What’s wrong?”
“You feel too good.”
“This is very stimulating.”
He slid his erection back and forth, unable to resist. “I’m already close.”
“Your organ is enlarged again.”
His hips jerked forward. He moved his hands to her breasts, stroking her wet nipples. “Touch it.”
She found the soap and started at his shoulders. Then she worked her way down, lathering his chest and stomach. By the time she encircled his shaft, he was trembling with need. She squeezed him with soapy fingers.
He endured her attention for about thirty seconds, moaning helplessly. Then he peeled her hand away, his jaw clenched. She smiled and reached for the shampoo. He watched her breasts jiggle enticingly as she washed her hair. Bubbles dripped down her smooth skin, over her sexy stomach and into the cleft between her thighs.
Jesus.
She tilted her head back to rinse her hair, eyes closed. He took his shaft in hand and strangled it into submission. When she was finished, he turned her around and made a fist in her hair. She gasped, bracing her palm on the shower tiles. He kissed the nape of her neck and slid his fingers down her belly. His erection nestled against her ass as he parted her plump folds. She was very wet.
He could take her like this, from behind. He could take her standing up, against the tiles. He could have her on her knees. He could make her come with his fingertips and finish himself off with a quick jerk.
All of that sounded hot, but too expedient. He wasn’t just trying to get her off. He was trying to win her heart.
He removed his hand from between her legs and released her hair. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her lips parted. She looked disappointed, as if she’d enjoyed that hint of roughness. His erection throbbed like a sore thumb. He shut the water off and helped her out of the shower stall. Then he lifted her against the sink, her legs spread.