Authors: Mary Moriarty
The Lioness
The Lioness
By Mary Moriarty
Copyright © 2015, Mary Moriarty
Kindle Edition
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Prologue
He
looked up at the sound of the door opening. His captor stood there just staring
at him, his hands holding onto the door jam, white knuckled. Ty’s thoughts
swam. This was it, or something had happened, happened to Rose. That would be
the only reason for the strange look and expression on the captor’s face. He
had so much as told him in so many words that he, too, loved Rose. Who wouldn’t
love Rose once you met her? She was so full of life, love. She showed compassion
to all whom she came in contact with. His Rose, the one who had been like a
quiet mouse. She had turned into a stormy tempest when he had been captured.
The insurgents called her The Lioness, trying to get back what belonged to her.
They admired but hated her in the circles of those who held Joe. She had been
bullying people from the Ambassador down to the leaders and clerics of the
country, trying in vain to win his release. Then to the very President of the
United States. She left no one out in her campaign to win his release. When all
else failed in the proper channels, he heard she’d started moving in circles
that were too dangerous. He hadn’t slept in what seemed weeks but in reality
was only days, wondering, worrying what she would do, how far she would go.
They had even allowed a couple notes from her to him. She had admitted she’d go
to any lengths short of selling her body or soul.
Ty
put his head down in his hands. Whatever his captor had to tell him, he would
tell him in his own good time. He felt sick. If it was of his impending death
then he would go, at least knowing Rose had tried. She had even secured a short
visit with him. How she managed that only God knew. If, by some miracle, he
ever got released, he would then ask her, but from the looks of things, well it
didn’t look good.
“Her
hotel was attacked.”
Ty’s
head shot up. He wasn’t sure if he heard right or if it was a dream.
“What
did you say?” Ty asked.
The
captor came in and sank to the floor, his head low. “Her hotel was attacked by
multiple bombs, from what it looks like. Then an air strike or a tank, reports
are confusing. We still don’t know, and we don’t know about Rose. She was just
dropped off. She didn’t look good, the driver said when she got out. She
stumbled, he said and he would have helped but too many army personnel were
around. They got through the barrier, she got out and stumbled. A soldier came
up and escorted her by taking her arm. They went straightaway into the hotel.
He said it wasn’t long, maybe ten minutes when the first explosion happened and
then….”
Ty
stood up and he walked quickly to the door, then stopped. Looking down at the
captor, he saw only sadness. “What do you know? Is she among the dead? Tell me,
you have to tell me. Or better yet, let me go, let me go search.” He sank to
his knees and faced his captor. “Please for the love of Rose that we both share,
and I know you love her, let me go. I can’t live not knowing.”
He
was met by empty eyes. “My life is nothing if I let you go and it’s nothing if
she dies. I would never have a future with her. She’s from another world, I
would be imprisoned. She deserves better, so much better.” He brought his hand
up to Ty’s shoulder. “She deserves so much more.”
Three weeks earlier, Phnom Penh Cambodia
Rose
stood with a soft drink in her hand. She wasn’t even in the mood for a wine.
They had been passing around drinks and appetizers when she had arrived. She
had been one of the first. She had only come out of a favor for her father. He
had asked her to make sure she made the opening night of the exhibit for Tim
Page and his book that he helped to edit with Horst Faas,
Requiem: By the
Photographers Who Died in Vietnam and Indochina
. Her dad had worked with
Mr. Page before he was severely injured jumping from a helicopter. After that they
had gotten into the anti-war movement together. Since both were journalists,
they shared a common bond. Sharing their love for photography, they had worked
for years trying to locate the remains of another common friend, Sean Flynn, who
had disappeared one day with another photojournalist, trying to get that one
great story and great shot. This was something she had been around all her
life. That had been the spark, the catalyst that had started her on the road to
where she was now.
She
looked around. There was a mix of ages and she could see a lot were about her
age. She walked around and saw photos done by her mentor. She had been such an
inspiration, being so young when she started back in the 60s. Rose had used
that as an argument with her parents. She said college would be fine but she
needed the experience and so with what little funds she had, she started her
life’s work. Dropping out after one year of college and the funds for the next
year in her bank account, she struck out. She smiled at one young
photojournalist who had dogged her steps from the airport. He was looking for
someone with common ground, but he was too squeaky clean for her. She turned
back and walked to the balcony that looked out as she watched the traffic, cars
and humans pass by down below. Then she saw a Vietnamese house boat come up the
river. The Tonle Sap, just below where the boat came floating up, merged with
the Mekong, flowing across the street. She loved this area of the world.
Whenever she got the chance she came back to Cambodia, spent as much down time
as she could here. She loved the country and its people. The place was rich in
history and culture.
She
took the last sip of her soda and turned to see the waiter coming up to her.
“I’ll have another soda and I’ll take a plate of those appetizers.”
“I’ll
be right back with that drink.”
“Thanks,
you can just put it here.” She placed the plate down and took one of the spring
rolls. That and the nachos would hold her. Maybe she’d go out later and get a
bite to eat before turning in. She didn’t plan on staying long and, turning to
get another spring roll, she saw the young man start heading her way. She
turned quickly but at the last moment she caught a movement and saw he was
waylaid.
Mm, rescued, for the time being
.
It
wasn’t that she didn’t like him, it was just she didn’t want his company. She
didn’t want anyone’s company, not since Ty. Ty Madison had spoiled her for any
other man.
She
looked out at the river and saw the boat had stopped for the night. The sun,
bright and giving off a wonderful show for her. made the river look like a
golden ribbon. Sunsets were her favorite time of the day.
That
made her think of the first time she’d met Ty personally. She had seen him
around, seen his work, which was excellent, but she had never worked around him
or with him. She tended to work mostly on her own. There had been a couple
times when she had worked with another writer for
National Geographic
,
especially when she was covering the conflict in Kashmir.
This
time was different. She had received a call from her dad saying he had received
a phone call from a Tyler Madison and he wanted her to contact him. She had
felt like a giddy schoolgirl. He was one of the best freelance journalists out
there. Spending months with the army in Afghanistan embedded, he had covered a
lot of conflicts since getting out of college. He was now thirty-six, if she
remembered right. No, his birthday was coming up the third of September. She
remembered the date because she arrived in Kabul the first of September, which
was her birthday and the first time she was to meet him.
She
had stood outside the airport with her bags at her feet. She came lighter this
time. She had been in Afghanistan before, but by herself. She was glad someone
was meeting her. She’d scanned the crowded, looking for Tyler Madison. He was
well over six foot, and would stand out. He was tall, dark and very handsome.
She remembered seeing him at a party on New Year’s six months before when she
was with her last boyfriend. They had been dating off and on but that was to be
the last time they would be together, both realizing it just wasn’t going to
work. They had parted friends, which made her happy. She hated a bad ending.
She
had seen Ty come in on the arm of some beautiful woman. She was all legs and
arms and had enough curves to make a Formula One racer happy. So the rumors
were true. He liked beautiful women. She had heard the stories of his parties
and the women. Somehow his reputation with his work and his private life just
didn’t jive. Well she didn’t care about his private life right now. He had
asked her, Rose O’Malley, to work with him, here in Afghanistan. He had said on
the phone he really loved her work, her ability to show, even through the
photos, the sensitive side of what she was trying to get across to the people.
So here she stood waiting for Ty Madison to pick her up.
She
shifted uncomfortably. The sun was setting. Her flight had been the last one
and there were only a few stragglers around. She had been wise to get out her
scarf and cover her head in the airplane before landing. She had kept
completely covered the last time, not even her hair showed. Her hair was a dead
giveaway, well that and her eyes. Auburn hair and bright blue eyes, courtesy of
the O’Malleys. She stood out, just like he must stand out. She was scanning the
thin crowd when she saw him and another man, an Afghan, head her way.
Despite
being over six feet he walked with a grace that reminded her of a dancer. It
was so hard to think right at the moment, and she was having trouble breathing.
She was meeting him for the first time and she was about to faint. She’d had a
serious crush on him since she started out working. He had been doing what she
had for at least six years when she struck out. He was well known for his
compassion when dealing with difficult situations and he had seen and been
through a lot.
He
stopped in front of her and smiled and she thought if she had to die at that
moment she would die very happy indeed. Tyler Madison had smiled at her. When
he smiled his whole face lit up.
God get a life Rose, he’s asked you here ‘cause
he likes your work. Nothing more. He probably has a string of girlfriends and
he’s more than likely not interested in an Irish Catholic girl. Smile and act
professional, not like a gawky teen.
“Rose
O’Malley, I’m Tyler Madison. I’m so sorry we’re late. This is Noori, our
translator, driver, and guide.” He stuck his hand out and smiled again, and she
realized, again, he had the warmest smile and most beautiful eyes she had ever
seen. God, she hoped she wasn’t drooling.
“I
would know you anywhere, Mr. Madison. Thank you for taking the time to pick me
up.”
Tyler
smiled at her again. “I don’t want to hear you calling me Mr. Madison, call me
Ty, all my friends do. Also Mr. makes me feel old. I can’t be that much older than
you.”
“You’re
six years older than me in fact, by a few days.”
“Good,
call me Ty, like I said all my friends do.”
She
felt good and smiled. “Ok, Ty. Thank you for picking me up. I was getting a bit
nervous.”
“Well
let’s get you out of here and back to the house.” He picked up her bags and
they followed Noori out into the parking lot. “I’ve rented us two rooms from
Noori’s Aunt, who will be our cook. There are a couple other reporters there as
well.”
She
followed along, listening to his wonderful voice. So smooth, still a trace of
the south there, making it glide off her like very warm honey. His voice was
something she wouldn’t get tired of. His voice could go into a nest of vipers
and make them roll over. They got to an old army jeep and Ty piled her things
carefully in the back
“Here,
you sit up front but put something over your face. The dust is awful this time of
day.”
She
sat in front but turned around and looked into his eyes again. She felt frozen
for a moment.
God, his eyes, they are so incredible
. “Could you reach in
my backpack, front pocket and grab my scarf, I have a bright pink one that I
bought in Cambodia. The Cham muslin there, love color. Pink really is not my
color but I love it.”
She
felt his gaze, intent, “No, blue or green would be your colors, but pink is
nice.” He reached into the pocket, pulled the scarf out, and handed it to her.
Their fingers brushed briefly and she felt an electric charge go through her
fingers as her eyes glanced from the scarf to his eyes. He smiled just a little
bit, then let go of the scarf into her hands.
“You
must be tired. We’ll get you settled in and Noori’s aunt will fuss over you and
get you fed. She loves to have someone to cluck over. Reminds me of my Mom.”
Boy
she loved his voice. She’d give anything to hear that forever.
Rose
jolted. She heard his voice and it wasn’t from her memory. He was here but how
could that be? He was supposed to be in Iraq again. He was spending forever
there, dug down, going all over the country, getting stories. Wouldn’t she love
to be doing that, with him, a team again? She turned around and there he stood.
Not only him but a group and on his arms were two very pretty young women,
Vietnamese from the looks of it. What was he doing, that wasn’t him, or had he
finally let his rep take over? It saddened her, he wasn’t like that. He had
told her the stories of his parties and the women had been exaggerated but what
could he do if people believed what they wanted. He was attractive and he
attracted beautiful women. He loved to talk with them but he had said most of
the time he went home alone. He loved quiet.
She
watched the women and saw one looked like she knew his arms pretty good. She
let her hands glide up and down, gently caressing his biceps. All the while her
face staying on his. The other had her arm around his waist. Well he looked
like he was making up for lost time, a little rest and relaxation. She turned,
she felt sick and a tightness clamped on her heart.
Ty
came up the stairs with a few buddies he had seen at the airport. He was just
coming up the stairs when two women, hookers from the looks of them, or as they
said here in Cambodia, taxi girls, closed in. Before he knew what was going on
they had him and were coming up the stairs with him and the others. He had been
standing there looking around the crowd when he saw her. He had heard she would
be here and knowing Tim Page was a friend of her Dad’s, he knew she’d make it
for this exhibit. Just as he had hoped to catch her eye, he saw her turn and
grab her bag. He had to think quickly and get rid of these two women. Spying a
piano over in the opposite corner from her, he apologized to his two unplanned
escorts and walked briskly over to the piano. Thank God for piano lessons when
he was younger. Being the son of a pastor he had been needed from time to time
to fill in for the piano player when she was sick. He actually liked it and
after a while he would spend hours composing his own stuff. That’s why he loved
this piece from Brian McKnight and he knew she loved it. He had sung it to her
a couple of times. He played the opening part to “Back to One” and waited.
Rose
heard the piano and turning saw him there, playing with his eyes closed. She
had never heard him play, though knew he could. The song was one of her
personal favorites, one he had sung to her when she had been sick in
Afghanistan. She had fantasized that he actually meant the words he had sung with
such feeling.
She
saw him open his eyes and then knew without a shadow of a doubt that the words
he sang, he meant. She walked over, keeping her eyes on him. She came up and
stood there next to him as he sang. There were others there but he sang to her,
no one else. She saw his lips, heard the words, felt them. She could just
picture them as they left his mouth, soaring over him, to her, searing her body
and soul and then hitting her heart. Then she felt the impact. Like a hard
electric jolt, straight to the heart.
She
started to mouth the words back to him in the chorus and swayed with the music.
She was smiling, really smiling for the first time since leaving him in Banda
Aceh, six weeks earlier. She felt the tears stream down her face. She knew she
was a goner. He had her, there were to be no survivors tonight, not that she
cared.
Ty
stopped playing and held the last note, watching her face and seeing the tears
but mixed with her sweet, sweet Rose smile. She was his dream come true and he
had found her. It had taken some doing. She had been traveling around but when
he had heard about the book and the exhibit he knew she’d be here. Also, he
knew she loved Cambodia and she had been working straight since Banda Aceh so
she needed a rest.
“Hello
Rose, I’ve missed you.”
“Oh,
Ty, I’ve missed you too.” She reached and touched his arm and he reached up to
brush the tears that were coming down unashamed. He turned to his name being
said . The women that had come up with him were making a beeline for them and
the few that stood around the piano.
“Oh
there you are. You are very bad, to leave us like that. We want to go out and
dance and have a good time.” Ty looked at Rose, “Sorry they kinda attached
themselves to me when I was coming in. I didn’t invite them, really. I was
here, looking for you.”