Dersima said, “You are afraid.”
“Of course I’m afraid! You don’t know what it’s like to see the one you love die in front of you.”
Ramyar and Dersima glanced at each other, a brief act that did not go unnoticed by Alina. “Oh, my God! You did lose somebody. I’m so sorry!”
Dersima managed a smile. “Don’t be sorry. Our son’s death is just an example why we cherish each moment we had him, and each moment as it is now. Don’t try to make now be anything else than it is. Just let the moment—this moment—be what it is and accept that.”
“We must cope with all adversities the best we can,” Ramyar said. “There are times in one’s life when good can come from such bad. Acceptance is a big part of that. We accept what Allah provided us, a son—if even for a short while. And we praise Allah for letting our son be with him where we know there is such peace and bliss. That is how we find contentment in our loss.”
“That and striving to forgive,” Dersima added. “It was difficult, I tell you, but we found a way to forgive those who took him from us. Now, we praise Allah every day for what we have while we have it. We don’t have much, but we are content with what we do have.”
“But you do have so much,” Alina said. “You have this house, a place to live.”
Ramyar looked around. “This? This is a simple house. A few rooms and a place to eat. It is not grand, but it is home. Besides this, we have nothing—but we still give thanks to Allah. There are those much less fortunate than we living in the streets. Still, it is a simple life, but we prefer it that way. How about you, Alina? Tell us of your home.”
“I don’t have a home. I have nothing. All I have is this gun.”
“You have yourself.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It means you should be glad in that you are alive. You have been on this self-destructive course for so long, I am quite surprised you are still with the living. And for that, you should be grateful.”
“Grateful,” Alina scoffed. “I should be grateful for having nothing, for being nothing. That is why I fight, because I have nothing to lose.”
“You kill because you are afraid,” Ramyar said.
“Excuse me?”
“You fear that if you let go of your hate, then you won’t have a reason to live. You fear you won’t have a purpose in life. You won’t be somebody, but that’s just not true. You just have yet to achieve your true sense of self, of self worth. You must strive to become the person you were meant to be.”
“You say you have nothing to lose,” Dersima cut in. “You have a lot to lose. The hostile life you live is all you have ever known, but it is not all there is. You say you have nothing. I say you are more blessed than you think.”
“And just how do you think that?”
“Because you are so close to where you need to be. To achieve peace, one must first simplify their life. You say you have nothing. That means you are at the perfect starting point for a life that leads to peace. And that is what you really want, isn’t it? Peace. You want that which was so brutally taken from you when you were a girl.”
Alina looked at Dersima but said nothing. She fought against the impulse to lash out. But something in the woman’s words rang true.
“There are times when Ramyar and I also wish that we might be free to roam the earth as you do,” Dersima continued. “By starting with nothing, you have a clean slate. From here, you can make anything out of yourself you so desire. You are young. You have such a long way yet to go in your life. As my husband said, let yourself grow into that woman you were meant to be, not the person you let yourself become.”
Alina said, “I guess I’ve made pretty much a mess of myself, haven’t I?”
Ramyar shook his head. “Not at all. You should take pride in who you are because deep down, you are such a good person. We know it. You know it too. Beneath this rough exterior of a warrior woman, I see someone strong enough to stop the war that rages within you. I see a woman who can end the fighting, but to do that you must first stop fighting yourself. Let go of the past and experience the present moment. It is the only way to have a viable future.”
“How can I let it go?” Alina asked. “I told you what they did to me.”
“Yes, but like we said earlier, that is because you haven’t learned how to forgive. Without the ability to let it go, you will forever be emotionally linked to those people and the pain they have caused you—and that’s even if you kill them. Your pain will never go away.”
“Yes,” Alina said. “A man told me that already.”
“Then he is a wise man. Unless you forgive, your thoughts will forever return to these people who wronged you and you will relive that day and each death for the rest of your life. You will never be free from this until you are truly free from those men—and that means you must forgive them.”
“Forgive them?” Alina shouted, almost spilling her tea. “Are you crazy?”
“When you forgive, you release the other person from their guilt in your own mind. In that way, you set yourself free from the agony they cause you. Most importantly, you set yourself free of them. Otherwise, you will forever be chained to that feeling of hate that burns so fiercely inside you. But once you forgive, then and only then can you start on the road to happiness. You begin by doing things you enjoy. Soon, you are living a life where you can breathe and enjoy the breath.”
As Alina listened to him, she realized who and what she had become—a killer. A cold-blooded assassin, just as Doctor Gruev said. Could she live with herself like this? When she had started this journey, it was all about revenge, but now, with Ramyar and Dersima’s words, everything seemed much more difficult and confusing, and yet easier at the same time.
“I know what you are thinking,” Dersima said. “You are chiding yourself for what you have become.”
“How did you know that?” Alina’s eyes went wide.
“It is only natural. You must not compare yourself to other people to establish the value in your life. In the future, just look for ways to be better each day. Not better than anyone else, just you based on your own goals. That is where people often get confused and depressed, when they compare themselves to others to establish their sense of happiness. Peace and happiness come from within.”
“Yes,” Ramyar said. “Be comfortable with who you are. By that I don’t mean you should stay the way you are. You should always strive to improve, but with your eyes on the prize and not anyone else. What I meant is that one should seek contentment with life now while balancing that with the desire to always improve. Accept what you have been given and be grateful, then do what you can to be a better person with the gifts you’ve been given.”
Alina said, “All my gifts, as you call them, seem to be in how to kill people.”
“You should be more optimistic,” Dersima replied. “Life will treat you the way you expect to be treated. If you are an optimist, one who sees the better in things, then you will perceive life giving you good things. If you are a pessimist, then the exact opposite will occur. You will see only the bad in life, and that is where you are today—a pessimist. Learn to see the good in life, Alina.”
“How?” Alina was lost, her mind a shuffle of conflicting thoughts and emotions. All they were saying seemed so right, yet it was so foreign to what she had always believed. Ever since she began training for the vengeance trail she was now on, her life seemed to be the exact opposite of what this man and woman were telling her. “How do I become an optimist? How does a person change so drastically?”
“Prayer.”
The answer was so simple it stunned Alina. She looked at Ramyar as he added, “We choose to pray to Allah. You may pray to your own God, but prayer is the portal that links us to a Being greater than ourselves. It gives us strength in danger and faith when in doubt. It also has a way of providing the answers to what we should do. With all you have learned tonight, prayer is the best way to make sense of it all.”
> “I don’t know. I’ve never been a religious person.”
“Then it is time you start. One must have some level of religion to balance their lives, to give them a base, stability—hope.”
“Isn’t religion just organized superstition?”
Ramyar and Dersima both shook their heads vehemently. “Superstition is belief without knowing. Religion is knowing, which causes belief. How can you tell the difference? Prayer is not just muttering preprogrammed memorized phrases. Real prayer comes from the soul of a person. Real communication. Talking with that greater being, seeking to be at one with him. That is the goal of religion. And to reach that goal, one must have understanding lest it decay into superstition.”
Alina asked, “And where does that understanding come from?”
“In Islam, we turn to the Koran. You may use the Bible or any other spiritual books that help you attain a higher degree of consciousness. I also suggest prayer or at least some form of meditation to help you attain that level of awareness. Practice some form of religion that brings you closer to God.”
Alina nodded, her mind a whirl of new knowledge. So much to digest in one night.
Dersima must have known Alina needed to be alone, for she announced she was going to bed. Ramyar made his apologies and followed, but not before he brought Alina a blanket.
“Here,” he said. “You can sleep on the couch. Make yourself comfortable. We will see you in the morning. Good night.”
With that, they left Alina to her thoughts. She lay down on the couch and shuffled into a comfortable position. She could not place it, but for some reason she felt safe here. It was true what Ramyar said. There was no war within these walls. For a transitory moment in time, she could forget the hate and violence. For the second time in her life, she felt the beginnings of contentment—only this time it was without Goran. Was this the peace they were talking about?
Alina took the gun from her waistband and placed it under her pillow. She jumped when an explosion rocked the city, a city still full of hate and blood. She shook her head at how these peaceful people could coexist in a place so full of violence. Maybe all they told her was true.
Her mind turned to the events of that night. Sokolovic was dead. That only left Delic—and Itsakovic. She thought about them and she thought of Ramyar’s words.
She turned over angrily. It was true. Had she not first killed Mirko none of this would have happened. Yet she also never would have met Goran. And if she had not gone to kill Oric, Goran would still be alive.
She tossed again, remembering the sight of Oric’s blood pooling on the white tile. She could not get the image out of her mind. She had to kill him. If not, he would never stop hunting her and his drug operation would still be in business. Yet it was not Oric that needed killing. It was Itsakovic. How could she just let that go? Because of him, the hunt for her intensified.
She rolled over remembering he was the one who led the raid. He was the one who killed her father. He was the one in charge of the cartel. She hit her pillow, angrily shuffling it to a better position. If she had only stayed in Istanbul, she probably would have had her revenge by now. At the very least, he would be in jail—but would that satisfy her? Could she find contentment knowing Itsakovic would be tried in a court of law?
She tossed the other way, her emotions torn, her tired mind unable to keep up with the seemingly ceaseless circle.
~~~
Delic drove the black Hummer to a screeching stop at the air base entrance checkpoint.
“Notify Security! Tell them a woman posing as a reporter just shot one of my men.”
The guard shined a light through the open window to see blood covering Delic’s left arm. Sokolovic’s body slumped in the passenger seat. The two strangers sat in the rear.
“What are you waiting for? My sergeant has been shot. Open the gate!”
The guard hastily signaled his comrade who lifted the barrier.
Delic squealed the tires coming into the compound. He drove to the hospital, honking the horn for others to get out of the way. Slamming on the brakes, he ran around to the passenger side and let Sokolovic’s body fall into his arms.
“Help!” he called. “Somebody help.”
Medics raced out to meet him. One brought a gurney. Delic laid him on it, and the medics rushed Sokolovic inside.
Military Police arrived at the scene, their blue lights flashing, casting shadows across the hospital entrance. Delic ran to meet them as the two newcomer men melted into the night.
“What happened?” one of the MPs asked.
“A woman shot him. Her name’s Alina. She’s posing as a reporter embedded with Lieutenant Lieberman’s unit. Put out an APB. Tell them she’s armed and extremely dangerous.”
“Sir, you’ve been shot. You should go inside. You need medical assistance.”
“I don’t have time for that. I’ve got to get to my unit. My colonel will know what to do.”
“No, sir. You stay right here. We’ll notify your colonel for you. Now let’s go inside and get you patched up. Then you can tell me what happened.”
“Charlie?” The MP turned around at the call of his name. The other MP was on the radio.
“I’ve notified Base Command. Security has been notified,” he said. “They’re on the way to the barracks now.”
The MP turned back to Delic. “There, see? It’s all taken care of. Now let’s go inside.”
Delic reluctantly followed the MP’s orders. Medics took off his bloody shirt and went to work on his arm.
“Tell me what happened,” the MP said. “First, let’s start with your name.”
“My name is Captain Naser Delic. I’m with the Blackbrier unit. My buddy and I were just playing cards with a friend of ours outside the base when this woman walks in with a gun and just starts shooting. That’s all there is to it. She’s crazy! She’s out of her mind.”
“Okay, Captain, what happened then?”
“What happened? Nothing. Javor was shot. I got him into the Hummer and drove here.”
“Do you know where she is or might be?”
Delic shook his head. “After she opened fire, she left. I haven’t seen her since.”
Two more MPs came through the door. In the hour it took the medical team to sew up Delic’s arm, he related the event again, answering their questions. No, he did not know her personally, only from a distance. Yes, she surprised them all. Yes, he can take them to the house. No, the civilian was not injured, but his son was killed.
“That makes it a UN event,” one of the other MPs said. “Killing an unarmed civilian will bring them in.”
“Great,” Delic said. “Just what I need.”
“What was that?”
“Huh? Oh, I said that’s just what we need. We’ve got to get the proper authorities involved. Now will you let me go? Every minute I waste here is another minute she’s getting away. We’ve got the technology to find her, track her down, find out where she is.”
“Okay, Captain Delic, but stay on base. My boss will want to talk to you.”
“Fine, fine,” he said, exiting the hospital.
He got into his car and chirped the tires, heading to the Blackbrier headquarters. He stopped in front of the door, not bothering to park, and rushed in.
A man sat in an office by the front door. He was on the phone.
“Colonel,” he said. “We’ve got a problem. A woman just shot Javor. He’s dead.”
The colonel signaled Delic to silence. “Yes, yes,” he said into the phone. “I understand. Thank you for notifying me.”
He got out of his chair and approached Delic. “Yes, I just heard. You’re hurt. Are you okay?”
Delic brushed him aside. “Yes, but I’ve got to find her. Can you get me a sat feed of Section One? It’s our best bet.”
The colonel shook his head. “You won’t see anything in the dark with a satellite, but there is a drone overhead. Flies 24/7. I’ll see what I can do to reroute it to the target are
a.” He got on the phone while Delic walked into the main room of the barrack.
“Everyone, listen up. Sokolovic is dead, shot just thirty minutes ago by a woman. She is dressed in military spec camouflage pants and shirt. Black hair. The colonel is getting us some eyes in the sky. Let’s go put some boots on the ground and find her.”
Fifteen men got up as one. They dressed hastily, all of them in black. They grabbed their rifles and headed for the door.
“Who are these guys?” someone asked, indicating Itsakovic’s men.
“Don’t worry about them. They’re with me,” Delic said. He was about to leave when the colonel called him back.
“Got your bird for you. It will be over the target area in one minute. I’ll monitor the situation from here. You can tune in on channel one to get the live feed.”
Delic nodded. “Listen, Colonel. Can you delay this getting to Colonel Johnson? We can’t afford Base Command getting involved, not right now at least.”
“Why?”
“This is personal. She killed one of our own. I think we should be the ones to bring her in—if not take the alternative, if you know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean. Just find her. I’ll go to the head of security and stall him any way I can. I’ll give you till 0700 to clean things up.”
“Thanks, Colonel,” Delic said. Then he left to join the others.
~~~
Steve Miller came out of his bunk at the sound of six MPs barging through the front door. The other men in his unit did the same, all of them looking at the MPs as they filed to the lieutenant’s quarters.
Lieutenant Lieberman appeared one minute later. “Anyone seen Alina?” he called.
No one answered.
“When was the last time anyone saw her?”
“Saw her leave about 1700,” one man said. “She was carrying a package.”
“Did you see where she went?”
“No, sir. She didn’t say a word, but she was acting real weird. She’s normally a loner, but today she seemed especially aloof.”
“What was she wearing?”
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