Vanished: A Beautiful Mess Series Novel

by T. K. Leigh

  Landon let out a sigh. “You need to see this with your own two eyes. Words alone won’t do the problem justice.” He paused. “Do you think you can hop on the next military transport to Kabul?”

  Alexander stiffened, caught off guard by Landon’s unusual request. More intrigued than surprised, he glanced around the upscale restaurant, the dull murmur of meaningless conversations broken by the occasional clanging of a dish or wine glass. It all seemed so superficial. Here he was, dressed in a suit that cost more than most people made in a year, schmoozing another set of clients for the business.

  When he had agreed to take over the company, he was well aware that this was part of the job. Lately, though, he felt as if he had been spending all his time sitting in an office or a restaurant like this, meeting with clients. He missed the thrill of the unknown, the adrenaline of being in the field. He wanted something more, something different.

  Something about that moment, the unhappiness he had been feeling toward his chosen career path, coupled with the frantic and excited tone with which Landon spoke made Alexander believe this was exactly what he needed.

  “I’ll be there.” He hung up and strode out of the restaurant, leaving his clients sitting at the table. He hadn’t felt this alive in months, maybe years.

  Twenty-four hours later, Alexander emerged onto the dusty tarmac in Kabul, Afghanistan. Assaulted by the hot, relentless sun, he remembered the first time he had stepped foot in this country, not knowing whether he’d be returning home in the passenger compartment or cargo hold. It didn’t matter. Back then, he had nothing to return to anyway.

  “Alex!” a voice bellowed as he walked toward the administration building.

  He looked in the direction of the voice and smiled, approaching his old friend and teammate. He pulled him in for a quick hug, then stepped back.

  “I half expected you to walk off that plane wearing a suit.” Landon grinned, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. “I’ve only seen you a handful of times over the past few years, but you were always wearing some suit made by a guy whose name I could hardly pronounce and would probably never be able to afford.”

  “You will if you hold up your end of the bargain and come work for me,” he reminded him, raising his eyebrows.

  “First things first. You never know what we’ll come across in our travels, so let’s get you geared up.” Landon started toward the administration building on the base.

  Alexander ran to catch up, fighting off the wind. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “A hospital about a hundred miles from here,” he shouted over the roar of a helicopter.

  It felt oddly strange to be back on a military base in this country. If it weren’t for the stark desert surroundings, Alexander wouldn’t have believed he was anywhere other than the United States — palm trees waving in the wind, the sun shining brightly as birds chirped in the distance. But once they left the secured fences surrounding the military installation, both men now sporting bulletproof vests and helmets, that all changed. Kabul was a city like any other, but the violence it saw over the years had left its mark. Some neighborhoods had been reduced to rubble and never rebuilt. The area wasn’t as dangerous as it once was, but Landon was right. It was best to always prepare for the worst.

  “Want to tell me why you had me come all the way out here?” Alexander shouted over the loud engine as Landon navigated the all-terrain vehicle down a sandy path. They had left the crowded city behind and were now surrounded by nothing but desert and mountains.

  “Like I said over the phone, words can’t adequately describe this. You need to see it with your own eyes to fully understand how important it is that something is done. The military can’t do jack shit about it…or so I’m told.” He rolled his eyes, then glanced at Alexander. “But you can. You’re a civilian with too much money. You can use that money for good.”

  Alexander stared at Landon, whose blue eyes were hidden behind his dark sunglasses. The sandy hair peeking out from underneath his helmet was lighter than Alexander recalled, probably from being deployed here for who knows how long. Studying him, Alexander thought how much Landon had grown and matured since their days of drinking beer together while on leave fifteen years ago. He had never heard him speak with such passion and zeal, even when he talked about Rayne, his fiancée. He knew this had to be important. Landon wouldn’t ask him to jump on the next military transport out here if it weren’t.

  “You certainly have me intrigued,” Alexander mused.

  “Good.” Landon gave him a look, then turned his attention back to the road.

  After a bumpy two-hour drive, which was hell on Alexander’s back, Landon finally pulled up to a small tan building in a remote village. There was a line of people out the door. Women held crying children. Old men looked like the next breath they took might be their last.

  “Medical care leaves much to be desired here,” Landon explained, turning off the engine.

  “Where are we?” Alexander asked, staring at his surroundings in bewilderment. He couldn’t imagine anyone living in such deplorable conditions. Many of the buildings were made of clay, the tin roofs rickety.

  “A medical clinic.”

  “This is a clinic?” he said in shock, looking back at the line of people snaking out of the building.

  “Yup,” Landon replied curtly, then jumped out of the ATV.

  Alexander followed him past the line and into the building. The smell of urine and death surrounded him, a lone fan the only means of lowering the temperature and circulating the air.

  “As you know, the military does what it can, but it’s not our place to provide medical care to the people here. At least that’s what my commanding officer tells me.”

  “And he’s right,” Alexander responded in a stern voice, then relaxed his expression. “I’ve never known you to be such a softie.”

  Landon glanced over his shoulder. “Maybe I’ve grown wiser over the years. Maybe I want to finally do something that makes a difference.”

  “You don’t think you make a difference?” Alexander shot back, crossing his arms as they came to a stop. “You’re a SEAL, for crying out loud,” he whispered. “You go into areas most other military forces run from. You can’t say—”

  “I know. I know. I just…” He sighed, removing his helmet. Alexander did the same. He had forgotten how much he hated those things. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have grown soft. Or maybe this isn’t what I’m meant to do. Maybe God has a different purpose for me.”

  “And you think opening up a medical facility with my help is that purpose?” Alexander tilted his head, raising his eyebrows.

  “No. Not a clinic.” Landon grinned slyly.

  Alexander narrowed his eyes. “Then what?” He had assumed this was about using his vast resources to provide medical care to those in need. Now he had no idea what to expect.

  “Come here.” Landon gestured down a short corridor that was abuzz with medical personnel and patients trying to be seen, some of them begging and offering bribes. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Eyeing him, Alexander followed him down the narrow hallway, trying to swallow back the bile rising in his throat from the putrid stench. Hospitals always had a strange smell to them, but nothing like this. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that this was somewhere people went in order to receive medical care. The tile looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years, and he was pretty sure there was a combination of blood and feces smeared on the walls.

  “As you can see,” Landon explained, leading Alexander through the crowded hallway, “most hospitals here are so poor, the only thing they can offer a patient is a bed and perhaps a staff member to check in on them once a day. If the patient has no family, there’s no one to pay for medications or food. They’re lucky if a worker can spare a minute to change their clothes or sheets.”

  Alexander looked around at the cots in the halls, wondering if any of the people lying on
them were still alive.

  “I brought Fatima here after my unit found her a few weeks ago.”

  “Fatima?” Alexander asked.

  “That was before I knew how hospitals worked,” Landon continued, ignoring Alexander’s question. “I thought she’d be taken care of, protected…until I stopped by a few days ago and found her lying in a pool of her own waste. She could have been dead.” He paused, swallowing hard, then looked at Alexander. “Please understand. I’m not blaming the doctors or nurses. That’s just the way things are here. The staff is doing everything they possibly can with the limited resources available to them. In this culture, the family unit is the one expected to nurture and take care of each other. As long as the family unit is intact, the system works. But when the patriarch of your family wants you dead—”

  “Wait… What do you mean?” Alexander interrupted, giving Landon a questioning look. He had a feeling he knew what his friend was talking about. He had spent enough time here to know that some antiquated traditions still existed, despite their government’s efforts to paint their culture in a positive light.

  “This is what I mean,” he replied, pulling back a simple white curtain, revealing a face Alexander imagined was beautiful at one time. Now it was marred with scars, wounds covered in bandages, fresh blood leaking through. He couldn’t imagine one’s own family abandoning someone in such a state.

  “Why?” he asked in disbelief, his voice almost a whisper. He had no idea how this woman could still be alive, although it appeared as if she were holding on by a thread.

  “Why has no one come?” Landon replied passionately. “Why would someone do something like this to their own flesh and blood?”

  Alexander nodded, swallowing hard.

  “Because, according to her family, she’s an adulterer. She’s brought dishonor to her family, and the only way to bring it back is by—”

  “Killing her,” Alexander finished.

  “Most of the residents of the village we found her in refused to talk. However, I was able to piece together her story from a handful of people who shared what they knew. About two months ago, she arrived with a man. I assume it’s the man whose decapitated body was found next to her. Apparently, just a few days before we found her, two older men came looking for her. The story the villagers were given was that it was her father and her husband. They estimated both men to be in their seventies. This girl probably isn’t more than twenty, yet she was married to a man in his seventies?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “So you think she ran away from an arranged marriage?”

  “I’m pretty sure.” Landon shrugged. “All I know with certainty is these two men, one of whom claimed to be her father, tied her to a chair and pelted her with rocks and stones for God knows how long. The only reason she’s alive right now is because they probably thought she was dead. It was by pure luck we ran across their two bodies.”

  “And the man she was with?”

  “Was hardly a man. He was probably only eighteen himself. He was stabbed repeatedly, then beheaded. The scarring on his wrists and legs led us to believe he was restrained and forced to watch them torture Fatima first.”

  He grabbed her lifeless hand in his, squeezing it. “She’s just one of who knows how many girls. The doctors say she was lucky to have survived such an attack.” He looked at Alexander, his eyes bold, a storm raging within. “Lucky,” he emphasized, then looked away, his vision focused solely on the bruised and scarred body lying on the small cot. “Most girls don’t walk away from this kind of attack. The government usually doesn’t get involved, either, especially in the more rural Pashtun areas.”

  “Why not?”

  “From what the staff here has told me, many of the local officials choose to honor the Pashtunwali, an ancient tribal code prevalent in these areas. Advocates have worked tirelessly to overturn such an antiquated system, but it still exists, probably because there have been little to no repercussions to those who violate the law by adhering to this tribal code. A man can kill his daughter for bringing dishonor on the family and be lauded a hero, not arrested as a monster.”

  He swung his eyes to Alexander. “Many of these girls have no option but to stay in an arranged and abusive marriage. If they run, they fear they’ll be killed by the very people who should protect them. They have no one to turn to. Some brave women do decide to run, even though they know death will more than likely be their punishment if they’re found. They’d rather die than live another day subjected to sexual and physical abuse.”

  Alexander swallowed hard, listening to Landon’s impassioned tale. He had seen some of the horrors of the world. He knew this sort of thing happened. Still, he couldn’t understand what would cause anyone to act in such a way, especially to their own family. He had a daughter whom he loved more than life itself. He would do everything in his power to protect her and keep her safe from harm, including laying his own life on the line. The idea that a father would intentionally harm, maim, and even kill his daughter because she may have acted in a way he didn’t approve of was beyond him. Yes, this was a different culture, but certain social mores should transcend cultural and ethnic lines, including ensuring the safety of your loved ones.

  Staring at the bloody bandages, Alexander gripped the side of the cot. “What can I do?” he asked, heat building in him the longer he stared at the bruised and beaten woman.

  Landon turned to him. “For starters, you can help get Fatima transferred to a hospital in Kabul where she’ll receive around the clock medical care. I tried to arrange it on my own, but my military salary doesn’t exactly leave my bank account overflowing with zeros.”

  “Consider it done,” Alexander answered without a moment’s hesitation. If he could pay for medical care for every woman who found herself in this position, he would.

  “There’s more,” Landon continued, an uncertainty in his tone. He paused briefly and drew in a breath. “We can help Fatima get the medical care she needs, but what happens when she’s released from the hospital? What about the rest of the girls who are in danger of meeting the same fate? What if we can prevent this from happening to other women?”

  “I’m listening.” Alexander crossed his arms over his chest.

  “We can open up a shelter for women here.”

  “We?”

  “Well, technically, your company would. I know you already have several security contracts over here, so it won’t be like you’re going into a completely new region.”

  “Yes, but…” Alexander ran his hand over his face, thinking of the logistics of getting involved in a humanitarian project of this scale. Yes, his company had provided security for government-run shelters and camps, even orchestrating the occasional food drop, but he’d never tried to do something like this on his own before.

  “I’ll run it for you,” Landon interrupted. “I’ll take care of hiring the local medical staff, coordinating with the Ministry of Women’s Affairs, and ensure the safety of everyone who comes through that door. All you have to do is pay for it.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Alexander chuckled, wondering how much something like this was going to cost.

  “Come on, Alex. This is serious. I’m ready to walk away from the only life I’ve ever really known to start something completely new. I just…” He let out a long breath, glancing down at Fatima, then back at Alexander. “Haven’t you ever thought about whether all the sacrifices you’ve made have been worth it?” he asked in a soft voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” Landon shrugged, running his hands through his hair, which could use a good trim. “I always thought I’d feel proud of myself for risking my life and being dropped into these random places in the middle of the night to carry out covert assignments. The number of dangerous men we’ve captured or killed in the name of freedom… You’d think I’d feel a sense of pride in that, and I guess I do…to a certain extent.”

  “But…”

  He gave Alexander a ha
rd stare. “Haven’t you ever felt like there was something missing? That no matter how much you love your friends and family, it’s just not enough?”

  “Maybe.” Alexander broke his eyes from Landon’s. It was as if his friend could read his mind. Lately, he’d certainly felt dissatisfied with his own career, like he was just a glorified secretary, sitting behind a desk and meeting clients. He wanted something more. “I’ve been a civilian for over a decade now, so maybe I’m too far removed from it to give you a good answer.”

  “You’ve been a civilian, but you’ve still been in the game.” Landon raised his brow. “You may not wear the uniform anymore, but you’ve trained private military forces all over the world. What would make you sleep better at night? Knowing you’re sending some of your teams in to do a random extraction the U.S. government refuses to give you details about, or relocating a woman so she no longer has to live in fear that her abusive husband will find her and her children?”

  “They’re both part of my job, so—”

  “What do you want Melanie to remember you for?”

  The question punched Alexander in the gut. He was more than aware the security company had been involved in some more questionable operations. Was Alexander proud of everything he had done in his past? Of course not, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good man.

  “Don’t you want her to be able to tell all her friends how her daddy stood up for something he disagreed with and used his vast resources to prevent it?”

  Pulling his lip between his teeth, Alexander shook his head. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. What was his legacy? What would he tell Melanie when she asked why he had gone to “that desert country”, as she had grown to call any of the Middle Eastern countries? Would he be able to look her in the eye and tell her it was nothing important? Could he lie to her, then go on as if he didn’t just make a conscious decision to send a young girl, as well as many others who could be in her same position within the next week, to her death? What if that were Melanie? Wouldn’t he want someone to help her?