No Girl Left Behind: A Jamie Austen Spy Thriller (THE SPY STORIES Book 5)

by Terry Toler

  I was already as close as we were ever going to get without using force. No question in my mind that I could save one of the girls with just me. Even get her on my plane and out of the country and still be able to look for Odille and potentially other girls.

  But I couldn’t save both of them by myself.

  So… I had to pick one of the girls to rescue.

  Gut wrenching.

  Not the first time I couldn’t help someone and wouldn’t be the last.

  Which one?

  Amina was my first choice. I had slightly more of an affinity with her because I came upon her the night of the attacks. I’d seen her attackers and even injured one of them. In some ways, I was to blame for taking her to the hospital instead of to her home. That’s why, if push came to shove, I’d rescue her over MJ.

  The timing was better with Amina as well. I needed a few more days to see if any more of the Sheikh’s girls needed rescuing. I could rescue those girls, then come back in three days and snatch Amina at her trial and get her out of Abu Dhabi for good. Having saved everyone except MJ.

  That seemed like the best plan. Not that it made it any easier.

  Watching MJ suffer was breaking my heart. I didn’t always do the smartest thing. In some ways, MJ would be the easier girl to rescue. Getting her to America would be simpler. She already wanted to go there, and Christopher was waiting for her. I’d promised I’d help them. The opportunity to rescue MJ was right in front of me.

  Poor Amina.

  How could I leave her behind?

  I couldn’t.

  No girl left behind.

  I had to figure out how to save them both.

  That caused me to rethink my plan. First, I needed to let things play out with MJ’s trial. Perhaps Malak could pull another rabbit out of his hat and, by some miracle, she’d be found not guilty. That wasn’t likely to happen, given the judge’s animosity toward her, but better to wait and see.

  The courtroom was completely quiet. If a mouse were making a noise, we would’ve heard it. The solemnity of the moment was not lost on even the prosecutor and the guards as no one was talking or moving around.

  The judge broke the silence when he returned and sat down at his place behind the table.

  “Before this court is the trial of Majahammaddan Tabithe. Will the prosecutor read the charges?”

  “There are two charges, Your Honor. The first is apostasy. The girl has admitted that she converted to Christianity and abandoned her faith. The second is zina. The girl admits that she married a Christian man against the teachings of our faith. Because the marriage is invalid, the sexual relationship between the woman and the man is fornication. The charge is sexual indignities.”

  “Present your evidence,” the judge said.

  “I think the evidence is already before the court. You have the testimony of the detective at Christopher’s trial. His mother said to the detective that Christopher and the defendant were already married. The girl was wearing a wedding ring at the hospital when the detective came to question her. Additionally, you have the testimony of the father. In his own words today, the girl’s father said that she told him she was already married. She also admitted to her father that she was a Christian. As you know, Your Honor, a woman or girl can be convicted on the testimony of a reputable man. The father’s word is enough for this court to render a verdict. I can provide more evidence, but what’s the point of wasting the court’s time?”

  “Thank you, counselor. Malak, how does your client plead?”

  “Your Honor, if it please the court. I’d like to remind you that you have already ruled in this matter. In Christopher’s trial, you found that the boy and girl are not legally married. In addition, the prosecutor did not present any evidence in that trial of a sexual relationship between the two and has not presented any evidence today. Christopher was charged with the same two things. On both counts, Your Honor found him not guilty. Therefore, the court should defer to its previous judgment and find Majahammaddan not guilty as well. Thank you, Your Honor.”

  “I didn’t ask for arguments. I asked how your client pleads.”

  “With all due respect, a pleading is unnecessary if you’ve already ruled.”

  “I haven’t ruled on this girl’s guilt or innocence. Therefore, I need a plea.”

  Malak paused and looked down at his notes. I knew his dilemma. If he pled not guilty and the judge found MJ guilty over some technicality, she would’ve committed a third crime and the judge was harsher on defendants who pleaded not guilty. If she pleaded guilty, the court’s finding of Christopher not guilty would be nullified. The judge also hadn’t ruled on the apostasy charge. To me, it seemed almost certain that he’d find her guilty of converting to Christianity.

  Malak had no choice in my mind. He must’ve been thinking the same thing because he said, “My client pleads not guilty.” Malak sat back down.

  “Thank you. The court finds the defendant guilty of marrying a non-Muslim and for having an improper sexual relationship with him.”

  Malak burst to his feet. “Your Honor, the defense hasn’t even had a chance to offer evidence!”

  “The court doesn’t need to hear any further evidence. I have the testimony of the father. He is a man of fine reputation and the girl’s very words condemn her.”

  “Your Honor, I have an affidavit from a doctor who examined Majahammaddan and found that, in his opinion, she is still a virgin.”

  “Let me see the affidavit.”

  Malak approached the judge and handed him the paper. He looked it over.

  “Does the prosecutor have a response?” the judge asked.

  “No, Your Honor, other than that the court has already ruled. It defies common sense that the couple did not consummate their marriage.”

  Malak continued to press his argument. “Your Honor, to find a man guilty of sexual indignities requires four witnesses. As you know—”

  “Only one witness is required to convict a woman of zina,” the judge said, cutting him off.

  Malak was still standing. “My point, Your Honor. You don’t even have one person who’s come forward to present any evidence of a sexual relationship. You do have one male witness, Christopher, who testified that no sexual contact has occurred between the two. My client is willing to testify to that fact as well.”

  “The law requires that the witness be a follower of Islam and be a man of reputable standing,” the prosecutor said. “May I remind the court that Christopher has been convicted of a crime.”

  “So has the father,” Malak said. “Can he really be considered a man of high reputation when the court found him guilty of domestic abuse?”

  “The court found him not guilty,” the judge said.

  “After a guilty verdict,” Malak retorted. “Even after you sentenced him to punishment.”

  “Let me make this easy for everyone,” the judge said. “I’ll find the defendant not guilty on the charge of zina. On the charge of marrying a non-Muslim, I find her guilty, and sentence her to time served. Is that satisfactory, counselor?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Malak said.

  My heart leapt with joy. It looked like Malak had pulled another rabbit out of his hat. Time served meant she was free to go with no further punishment. A smile came on Aunt Shule’s face for the first time as she looked up to heaven to thank God.

  “As to the charge of apostasy,” the judge said. “How does your client plead?”

  My heart sank to the bottom of my chest.

  “Let me confer with my client, Your Honor,” Malak said.

  He leaned over and began whispering in MJ’s ear. They talked for nearly a minute.

  “My client is not prepared to enter a plea at this time,” Malak said.

  The judge’s whole demeanor changed again. He leaned forward in his chair. His eyes were furrowed, and his jaw tensed. His shoulders raised in obvious anger.

  “Young lady, have you renounced your Islamic faith and converted to Christian
ity?” the judge asked harshly.

  MJ was silent.

  “I’ll ask you again. Are you a Christian?”

  MJ refused to answer.

  “If you don’t answer, I’ll sentence you to fifty more lashes!”

  MJ stared straight ahead. It appeared from my angle, that she wasn’t even looking at the judge.

  “Your Honor, my client has the right to remain silent,” Malak said. “She has an attorney who can speak on her behalf.”

  “Then speak. What is her plea?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Guard, seize the girl and administer fifty more lashes!”

  “No!” Aunt Shule cried out.

  I put my arm around her and pulled her close and whispered for her to remain silent. I didn’t want Aunt Shule to get lashes as well.

  The guard jerked MJ from her seat. Violently. She cried out when he grabbed her right arm. The one with the burns and now the torn flesh from the caning.

  She stumbled from the shackles that got caught up in the table and chair.

  The guard pulled her up. Another guard came and took her other arm and they lifted her off the ground and carried her out of the room.

  The judge stood and left.

  What do I do?

  I could go out and stop them. That wasn’t wise. Curly always said not to act out of emotion. Act because the facts dictate a certain response. Saving MJ meant risking being able to save the other girls. The risk was too great that I’d blow my chance to help Amina and Odille.

  As agonizing as it was, the prudent thing was to wait.

  There might not be another opportunity.

  When I heard the first scream, tears filled my eyes, and I clutched Aunt Shule harder. I’m sure she didn’t realize that she was the only thing holding me back. Her hands clutched to mine, or I would’ve taken my knife, killed the two guards and driven MJ away from this heinous travesty.

  We could almost count the lashes by the number of times MJ cried out in agony. The father sat on the other side of the courtroom with an evil smile of satisfaction on his face. I wanted to walk over and hit him so hard that he’d never smile again.

  When the beating mercifully came to an end, I dreaded what I’d see when they brought MJ back in the room. As expected, her burqa was a bloody mess. The guards literally had to carry her in.

  They practically threw her down in the chair. Malak spoke to her. MJ turned her head toward him. Her look was vacant. The once vibrant and outgoing teenager looked like the life had been beaten out of her. She needed medical attention for her wounds. I doubt she’d get it.

  The judge returned. I wanted to take the knife out of my skirt and fling it at him. I was very efficient with knife throwing up to about thirty feet. He was at the far end of my range, but with adrenaline pumping through my veins, I had no doubt that I could kill him from where I was sitting. I could only picture myself doing it. I had to control my anger. Now was not the time.

  Don’t act out of emotion. Curly’s words were the only thing restraining me. That, and I’d missed my opportunity. I should’ve acted before she was beaten a second time. I’d probably relive those last few minutes over and over again. Second guess myself. Alex would help me get over it. We’d both seen worse. As if that was any consolation.

  The judge said, “Majahammaddan, how do you plead on the count of apostasy?”

  MJ didn’t speak.

  “I can sentence you to fifty more lashes if you don’t answer me! I’ll ask one more time. Will you renounce Christianity?”

  MJ put her hands on the table and pushed herself to a standing position. Her knees almost gave way, but she was able to hold herself up. Malak put his hand on her back to steady her.

  “I will never deny that Jesus Christ is my Lord and savior.”

  A gasp went up on our side of the room. The other side erupted in shouts of derision.

  “Apostate!”

  “Treason!”

  “Blasphemer!”

  “Stone her!”

  The judge hit his gavel against the table three times. MJ gingerly sat back down in her chair.

  “Based on your confession of guilt, I sentence you, Majahammaddan Tabithe, to ten years in prison and one thousand lashes. The lashes are to be carried out at the rate of one hundred a year. If at any time in the ten years, the girl renounces Christianity, I will reduce her sentence to time served.”

  Malak remained seated. He didn’t even try to present an argument on her behalf. He probably thought he’d only make things worse.

  “Does the tribal attorney wish to add to the sentence?”

  Her father stood.

  “Yes, Your Honor. I am the tribal elder. We desire that the girl be sentenced to death by stoning.”

  Malak stood to his feet, “The law allows for stoning for apostasy, but may I remind the court that it has been discouraged by the Supreme Court. No person has been stoned for apostasy for several years.”

  “The tribe has the right to offer a sentencing suggestion,” the judge said.

  “And you have a right to reject it.”

  “I will not sentence the girl to death. But I will also not stand in the way of the tribe’s judgment. I wash my hands of the matter and will turn the girl over to the tribe after she has exhausted her appeals.”

  He hit his gavel and said, “This court is adjourned.”

  I was trying to process it all.

  After the courtroom cleared, Malak explained it to us. “We will appeal to the Supreme Court. That’ll take about ten days for them to render a decision.”

  “What are our odds?” I asked.

  “Fifty-fifty,” Malak said. “They don’t often intervene in these low-level cases. At the same time, they sometimes get involved in death penalty cases. Especially a woman of this young age.”

  I walked out of the courtroom and got out my phone. I saw the van driving MJ away. Our eyes met. I wanted to run after her.

  I dialed Alex. Tears were running down my cheeks. I had to take a deep breath just to get the words out.

  “Hi honey,” he said. “How’d it go?” I knew he was probably sitting by the phone, anxiously awaiting my call.

  “Not good. I need you here. Bring the whole team. Bond and Josh. Get here as soon as you can.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Make these people wish they’d never been born!”

  24

  Diyarbakir, Turkey

  Baha Dalman had not risen to the highest rank in the White Wolves without understanding what was happening around him. That’s why the events of the last two weeks had him totally baffled. One of his generals, Rafiq, and four of his bodyguards, were killed in a car bombing outside his home. A Sheikh from the UAE, Saad Shakir, claimed responsibility.

  While Baha had heard of the Sheikh, he’d never had any dealings with him. As far as he knew, the White Wolves hadn’t had any run-ins with him either. Why would the Sheikh be targeting one of his men? The Sheikh wasn’t a player in the drug trade or in arms dealing. All he knew about the Sheikh was that he was a playboy and had earned most of his money legitimately.

  He hadn’t retaliated against the Sheikh for a number of reasons. One, he wasn’t certain the Sheikh was even behind the attacks. Sometimes rivals spread disinformation and blamed an act on a third party who had nothing to do with it. Baha didn’t want to kill associates of the Sheikh who might be innocent until he had more definitive proof of the Sheikh’s involvement.

  Secondly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to start a war with such a powerful man. The Sheikh was a cousin to the Crown Prince of the UAE. He had a net worth of fifty-to sixty-billion dollars. While the White Wolves had resources at their disposal, the sanctions against Iran and Russia by the US had cut their income in half. He wasn’t sure he could win an all-out war with the Sheikh without killing him.

  The most prudent thing to do was to wait it out and see what happened next. Perhaps the attack on Rafiq was personal and didn’t involve the Whit
e Wolves at all. The Sheikh was a womanizer and maybe Rafiq had gotten involved with one of the Sheikh’s women.

  Baha sat at his desk in the headquarters of the White Wolves, contemplating his options when his phone rang.

  Zamani.

  The bomb expert. A freelancer who Baha suspected of killing Rafiq.

  Why would he be calling me?

  He started to let it go to voicemail, but curiosity got the better of his judgment.

  “Salam,” he answered.

  “A bomb is going off in your building in less than two minutes. I saw you were there in your office. I wanted to warn you. I didn’t want you to die.”

  “Thank you,” he said to the familiar voice. Definitely Zamani. He realized how stupid it sounded to say thank you after he’d said it. Why was he thanking him for blowing up his headquarters?

  “Who’s behind this?” Baha asked angrily.

  “Saad Shakir.”

  If Zamani said Saad was behind it, then he was. Zamani was a man of his word. Strange, considering he was a killer. With ethics. At least when it came to telling the truth.

  A chill went down Baha’s spine. If Zamani said a bomb was about to go off, that meant it was. He had to get to safety. Two minutes wasn’t much time. Something he had to know first.

  “Why is Saad targeting the White Wolves?” Baha asked.

  The line went dead.

  Baha had to hurry. He crawled under his desk. That wasn’t a safe enough place.

  The closet.

  He got out from under his desk and practically ran to the closet off of his office. No sooner had he slammed the door shut, than the bomb exploded.

  Below him. The entire building shook. He could hear a loud crashing sound coming from his office. Probably ceiling tiles falling as the entire structure of the building was likely compromised.

  He waited for the shaking to stop and opened the door to his office to assess the damage. To his horror, his entire desk was gone. All that was left was a hole in the floor. Had he stayed under the desk, he would’ve gone crashing down a floor or two as well.

  The room filled with smoke. He put a handkerchief over his mouth and went out into the hallway. Only one of Baha’s lieutenants was still there, walking around in a daze. Baha took him by the arm and led him to the stairway where they made their way down to the first floor.