The Colonel's Daughter (19 page)

“Come inside and close that door behind you.” He winked.

Jasmine slowly shut the door. “Did you know that man was extradited?”

“The General told me. It’s complicated. Those orders came from a higher rank.”

Javi rested his bottom against the bathroom sink and brought Jasmine towards him tightly pressing her body against his.

“Don’t worry about that guy right now baby girl.”

“Javi, I’m so happy you’re here with us.”

Jasmine gave Javi a kiss and caressed his unshaven face. His fingertips stroked her lower back. He kissed her lips then gently massaged her tongue with his. She helped him remove his shirt carefully pulling it over his bandaged side then brought her tongue back to his.

“There’s something I want to tell you, Jasmine.”

“What is it?”

“I want us to start looking for a house.”

“To buy?”

“Yeah, to buy.” His fingers intertwined with hers. “I’ve got some money saved up.”

“Like for a down payment?”

“I’ve been saving for a long time. We can probably pay cash for it. Unless you want a luxury estate, I don’t know if I can pay for one of those.”

“That would be so wonderful, Javi.”

She leaned in for another kiss and wrapped both arms around his neck.

A tiny knock came on the bathroom door.

“Momma, I’m thirsty.”

Javi looked into Jasmines eyes and gave her his off slant smile.

“I’ll be right there honey.” Jasmine caressed his hand slowly letting go.

After showering, he taped a clean bandage over his stitched side and came out to find Jasmine fast asleep with her daughter in her arms.

He wore an old pair of jeans and t-shirt while lying in the bed over the blankets. He kept his eyes open and his body motionless while weaving in and out of sleep.

Thin rays of light made their way through a wrinkle on the drapes tickling Samantha’s eyes. She leaped out of her blanket. “Javi, Javi, you’re ok.”

He chuckled. “Shh…don’t wake your mom. How ‘bout you watch some TV.”

He scratched the top of his head while yawning then rubbed his eyelids with the palm of his hand.

“Look Javi, you’ll love this movie. It’s so funny.”

He sat up. “Is it a cartoon?” He looked at the screen and rolled his eyes. “I don’t watch too many those, what’s it about?”

“Listen to this Javi; yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift. That’s why they call it the present.” Samantha swung her arms in the air and giggled.

Javi smirked then scratched his face while yawning.

“Are you going to be my dad, Javi? My mom said you’re getting married.”

“Your mom said that?” His eyes opened wide and turned immediately towards Jasmine.

“Right, momma?”

Jasmine stretched. “Yes.” Her voice was raspy.

“So how do you feel about me being your dad? I’m not sure about how this sort of thing works. I’ve never had a kid before.” He folded his arms.

“Well my father is in Heaven. And he’s been there for a long time so I don’t really know what it’s like having a dad here with me.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“If I could pick any kid in the whole world to be my kid…I would definitely pick you. You are by far the smartest little girl I’ve ever met.” He ruffled the top of her hair.

“And the hungriest girl…my tummy rumbled.”

* * * * *

Abby stepped out of the plane and fixed her eyes on an armed guard, who wore a long white garment with headdress, and stood watch at the base of the steps. Maurice stood next to him wearing a dark business suit. Behind Abby were the two concubines. Maurice extended his arm and tried to take hold of her hand. She descended the last steps and reminded him of having to wait until their ceremonial wedding.

They boarded a Rolls Royce that rode past an enormous gate towering over a dense fog. Beyond the gate was a courtyard lined with fountains. An interpreter, who had been assigned to be with her and the two concubines for the day, greeted Abby. She was a red headed British woman named Daphne who bonded almost immediately with the blonde snobbish concubine. Daphne took them on a tour of the mansion. The ceilings and fixtures were lined with gold. They made their way up a marble stairway and past a corridor with golden pillars.

“This will be your bedroom Abigail. It is such a magnificent room.” The interpreter sighed. The concubines sneered. Abby reluctantly made her way past the double doors. Her eyes fixed on the opulent crystal chandeliers.

A woman placed fresh flowers in a vase while two others dusted over a large vanity.

“These women are your servants, Abigail. They are here to make your stay more comfortable. They will only answer to you and of course, Maurice.

“Do they speak English?”

“They’re from India, they mostly speak Urdu but I believe they understand some English.”

“Do we get a bedroom like this with servants?” The blonde concubine raised a drawn-in eyebrow.

“I’m afraid not. I will show you to your chambers. Come along.” Daphne scurried out.

“I’m just gonna stay here and get acquainted.” Abby closed the double doors behind them and put a hand to her roiling stomach.

“I feel so sick. I don’t think I can make it to the bathroom.” She involuntarily gagged.

“We will help you.” The three women fussed over her.

Abby put her face over the toilet.

“This is not good.” The younger Indian woman held Abby’s hair back.

“Tell me about it.” Abby gagged.

The two other servants addressed one another in Urdu.

“What did they say?”

The young Indian woman put Abby’s hair in a bun. “They are saying it is possible you might be pregnant.”

“No, no, no, no.” Abby sat on the tiled floor in tears. “Tell them there is no way that I could be pregnant.”

The women insisted she was while speaking in their native tongue.

“Get out. Leave me alone.” Abby narrowed her red eyes.

“I’m afraid we cannot leave.”

“I’m ordering you to get out. Leave me alone.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

* * * * *

Daphne, the British redhead knocked on the bedroom door. “Good morning, Abigail. We missed you over dinner last night. I was told you are not feeling well.”

A young Indian woman held the door ajar. “I’m afraid she’s still asleep.”

“I’m awake now, you can let her in.”

“Your voice sounds terrible Abigail. You really must be ill. I’ll have someone bring you tea with lemon.”

“I thought you were just my interpreter.” Abby propped herself up with large satin pillows on the queen size bed draped by a gossamer veil.

“Oh but I am. You don’t think I can have someone fetch you tea?”

“Fine, then can you also please let Maurice know that I am very sick and that he needs to postpone our wedding ceremony.”

“Oh, he already knows how sick you are. You very well missed dinner last night. And you were the guest of honor.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “I was the guest of honor? Oh joy.”

“Abigail, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Like what?” Abby clutched her sour stomach.

“Well, how is it that you came about accepting Maurice’s wedding proposal and how do you feel about betraying your own father.”

“What? I didn’t.” Abby gagged. “I’m being kept here against my own will.”

“Oh come on. Look around Abby. You’re marrying one of the richest men in the world. Do you honestly think people are going to believe you are a victim?”

“What kind of interpreter are you? Did Maurice put you up to this?”

“No he didn’t. I do apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I only seek the truth. There are many women who would give anything to marry Maurice Shahrivar and I simply believe you may be one of them.”

“What is it exactly you think I’m after?”

“Well I would certainly think you want to rebel against your father, you’re seeking attention, fame. You will obviously be living the life of royalty.”

“Nonsense, you couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“Again, I’m so very sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure you are. I might just take you up on that tea, thank you.”

“Very well, I will come back and check on you later.”

Daphne exited the room and Abby wept. The Indian women dusted every vase and picture frame in her extravagant bedroom. Occasionally, she would calm down, and the three servants would stop their toiling to listen and she would moan all over again shedding more tears.

Exhausted with swollen eyes, Abby listened to the servants conversing in Urdu. “What are they saying about me?” She asked the young one. “Tell them that I can hear them talk about me.”

“I’m so sorry. I will tell them to stop.”

“Just tell me what they are saying.”

“They are just wondering, who is this Dallas you keep crying for?”

* * * * *

A group of soldiers studied the topography on a large map on the wall. Dallas stood in front of the men going over battle plans.

“Gentlemen, the greatest privilege I have ever had is leading you in combat.” He gave out all the assignments and quickly ended the meeting.

“When will you be leaving us Lt. Star?” A young soldier sprinted up to Dallas.

“As soon as possible Corporal,” Dallas took big steps towards a partially demolished building.

“Will this be your last mission with us, Sir?”

“Corporal, there’s a platoon being hammered by artillery and mortars. Now our job is to find where the fire is coming from and help clear the area. You think I got time to give you the state of the current conditions of my personal life?” Dallas took a large gulp of air.

“I’m sorry if I offended you sir.”

Dallas looked up at the cloudless sky placing his hands on his hips. He watched his men grab their gear and punch shoulders. He turned and spat the sand that had made its way into his mouth. In the deepest recesses of his mind he buried the fear and guilt he was feeling for what happened to Abby by repeating what he learned in Ranger school,
this isn’t about me
.

“We’re ready to go sir.” The driver surfaced from the hood with grease smeared on his hands and face.

“All ready up here Lieutenant.” The Humvee gunner secured the ammunition.

“I just confirmed the radio frequency sir.” Specialist Treyvon Thompson called out.

“Hey Tee Tee.” The driver called out.

“My name’s Treyvon.”

“Treyvon.” The driver roared. “Captain’s looking for you.”

Captain Labelle had a crew cut of red hair and a scar that parted his eyebrow in half. He appeared from the lead Humvee.

“Thompson, I need you to go see what the hell my radio operators are doing in that Humvee. They got mess of wires in there.”

“Yes sir.” Treyvon raced to Labelle’s Humvee.

“Dallas.” Captain Labelle whistled. “I just got a call from General Brown. I’ll take it from here, son.”

“As much as I want to leave, Captain, I don’t think—”

Captain Labelle placed his hand on Dallas’s shoulder. “I’ve got a pair of A-10’s on their way. Go on son.” The driver revved the engine.

Dallas sprinted back to the nerve center feeling relieved by the news that the Air Force jets were on their way to support his men. He could finally concentrate on finding Abby. The operations center consisted of a mud-walled room filled with sophisticated communications equipment. The battalion commander pulled Dallas aside. “Here is the latest Intel on Shahrivar.” He handed Dallas several sheets of paper containing addresses and maps with locations for Shahrivar’s safe houses. “We got him this time.”

Dallas carried his bags to the Chinook. The helicopter engine roared to life taking its passengers over a sea of sand. The helicopter landed at the battalion headquarters in a neighboring province. Dallas walked alongside the battalion commander as they hunched over avoiding the rotor blades that whooshed dust and sand around them.

They entered a room filled with soldiers operating the latest computerized equipment.

“General Brown is waiting to speak with you, sir.” A woman soldier announced.

A live streaming image of the General came onto a flat screen on the wall. “Good afternoon Commander. Hello Dallas.”

Dallas gave the General a salute. “How you doin’ sir.” He cleared his throat. “How’s the Colonel doing?”

“The Colonel is in stable condition. He still has some time to go before he’s back to his old vibrant self again.”

“If I may ask sir, are there any leads to the whereabouts of the Colonel’s daughter Abigail, sir?”

“We’ve got other special operators working on that case. They’ll find her soon enough.”