The Sheik Who Loved Me (21 page)

And suddenly saving his daughter became something even bigger in his mind. It became a need to kill the cancers of the past to ensure a future. It became a driving need to make all three of them whole…him, Kamilah and Jayde. A family.

Because all of sudden he could see with incredible clarity that the very thing that had been driving them apart is what ultimately bound them together—love.

With new fire searing through his blood, he set about loading the camels. And he began to plot. He knew people in Al Abèche. Loyal villagers. Men who would stand by them to fight the Falal. But they had to hurry.

The clock was ticking.

Chapter 15

A
moonless night brought them invisibility. With fresh camels, eleven additional men from the village of Al Abèche, and a small cache of black-market weapons, including the stash Jayde had brought, they’d crossed into the Libyan desert undetected just after midnight.

They were all dressed in black. Jayde and David had extra clothes in their saddle bags for their return journey. Jayde had borrowed a chador from a Muslim woman in Al Abèche. The plan was to hide Kamilah under it and for her and David to pose as a simple Bedouin man and wife if they encountered any rebels as they fled. She and David would go one way. The villagers, who were to create a distraction to the north of the fort, would flee in another direction. They would all meet up in Al Abèche…
if
all went according to plan.

It was almost three in the morning. They didn’t have much time until first light. Jayde and David lay flat on their stomachs against the warm sand of a dune that provided them cover. The village volunteers, all experienced guerrilla fighters who’d fought Azarian rebels for Sauvage and his team, had stolen around the west end of the fort and made their way into the rocks of the northern ridge armed with grenades, explosives, AK-47s,
jambiyas
and scimitars.

David scanned the fort with night-vision binoculars while Jayde rolled onto her side, carefully attached the grenade launcher to her rifle and inserted a small e-bomb canister, making sure she had another ready to go as soon as she’d fired this one. She checked her watch. “Two minutes,” she whispered.

The seconds ticked by interminably as they waited for their men to detonate explosives along the cliff face to the north. That was where Sauvage’s men were supposed to have been, according to the plan Farouk had given to Tariq.

Tariq would think David had found a replacement team, and the attention of the few Falal members left at the fort, the ones who had not yet mobilized for the Azar coup, would be diverted northward while Jayde and David crept in from the south.

The plan was for Jayde to fire her e-grenades over the compound as soon as the distraction to the north commenced. The e-grenades would knock out all electrical communications and surveillance equipment in the fort. She and David would then creep in using night-vision gear and neutralize the two guards at the southern entrance.

They would move quickly into the fort and find the room where they assumed Kamilah was being held. They would have to deal with one guard there, according to Moriati’s satellite specs.

The first explosion went off on cue, cracking the silence of the desert night. Then the next, and the next. They heard yelling, gunshots, general confusion as the few Falal fighters still in the fort scrambled to cover the northern side of the compound and began firing into the dark.

“Now!” she whispered, firing the launcher. Equipment began to explode and cook under the massive electrical surge. Even from their vantage point a hundred yards away in the dunes, the acrid smell burned their nostrils. Jayde reloaded, fired again. The fort was plunged into blackness.

They raced like silent black ghosts over the sand, using night-vision gear. Through it they could make out the green-gray shapes of the two guards at the entrance. The two men were focused on the ruckus north of the fort.

They caught them unawares from behind, jabbing them in their necks with Jayde’s chemical darts. The guards slumped with soft thuds to the ground.

Guns fired to the north. Another explosion rocked the ground. The Falal fighters were fully engaged by their men. David and Jayde ran down the right-hand corridor. They came to a sharp corner in the passage of the old stone fort. David pressed his back against the stone wall, peered carefully around the corner. Ahead, left unguarded, was a thick wooden door with metal hinges. His heart clenched. This was where satellite imaging showed a small and fairly stationary figure they presumed was Kamilah.

He motioned to Jayde that all was clear. They ran to the door, still using night-vision gear in the blackened fort. The door was locked. David fought with the bolt. Jayde touched his shoulder, gestured he move aside.

He watched as she deftly wound two different shades of malleable substance together. “One thread’s explosive,” she whispered. “The other contains a chemical that will detonate it in seconds. Be ready to get back.” She moulded the plastique against the door lock. They both ducked back around the corner in the passageway.

A muffled thud sent shockwaves down the passage. They raced toward the door. David shoved it open. And in the corner, on a pile of old blankets, her eyes big and black in the darkness, was the gray-green silhouette of his baby girl. His heart clean stopped, then kicked sharp up against his ribs. She couldn’t see them. She was clearly terrified. “Kamilah!” he whispered. “It’s me.”

Jayde stood guard at the door.

He rushed toward his child in the dark corner.

“Daddy?” said a tiny voice. Emotion exploded violently in him. She was alive. Speaking. His hands began to shake. “Oh, God, Kamilah, are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m scared, Daddy. I can’t see you. It’s dark.”

He scooped her up, hugged her tight to his chest. “I’ve got you, baby, we’re going to get you home.”

“I knew you’d come, Daddy. I knew.”

“Of course, baby. Of course—” He halted as he heard a muffled cry behind him and the sickening sound of a body slumping to the ground. He swung around, Kamilah still clutched tight in his arms.

David’s heart stalled. Jayde was curled in a limp pile on the floor, a black stain spreading under her.
Blood.
Tariq stood over her, a bayonet in one hand.
He’d stabbed her!

Then light from a flashlight cut the darkness. David winced against the pain that screamed through his eyes and into his brain. He whipped off his night-vision gear and, blinking into the glare of the light, slowly set Kamilah down. “Get behind me,” he whispered to his child. “Get in the corner, cover yourself with the blankets.” His fingers curled around the hilt of his
jambiya
as he spoke. Rage was boiling through him. A sick fear curled through it.
What had Tariq done to Jayde?

With one hand, Tariq aimed his bayoneted rifle at David’s heart. With the other, he pointed the flashlight at David’s eyes.

David blinked again, a little more accustomed to the glare of the light. He stared at the blade mounted on the end of Tariq’s gun, the blade stained with Jayde’s blood. “Tariq,” he said hoarsely, “let Kamilah go. Let Kamilah and Jayde go.”

Tariq nudged Jayde’s limp form with his boot. “She’s not going anywhere. Neither are you.” He stepped close to David.

Every muscle in David’s body strapped iron tight. He slipped his
jambiya
slowly from its sheath as he spoke. “Let us talk, Tariq. Let us work this out. For our father’s sake.”

Tariq snarled. “My
father?
The man who took an English bride and made a bastard sheik?” He moved even closer.

David’s teeth clenched. He angled the curved blade of his
jambiya
slowly up in front of him, poised should his brother take one more step in his direction. “Let my daughter go, Tariq.” He waved his
jambiya
menacingly in front of him, feeling the familiarity of the hilt against his palm. “I’m warning you.”

Out of the corner of his eye David could see Jayde move ever so slightly.
She was alive.
His heart kicked his ribs. Then he saw her hand move slowly up to her head. She lifted the night-vision scope still attached to her eye.
She was more than alive. She was preparing to make a move.
She caught David’s eye, signaled to him to draw Tariq away from Kamilah.

New fire seared through David’s blood. He edged slowly to the corner of the stone cell, away from his child, away from Jayde.

Tariq followed David’s movement with his flashlight, his finger curling around the trigger of his weapon.

Jayde’s hand inched across the crumbling stone floor, groping for a loose chunk of stone. David saw her fingers close around one. She hefted herself up on one elbow and flung the rock at Tariq’s head.

Her aim was dead-on. The rock cracked against his skull. A grunt escaped Tariq. He spun around, aimed at Jayde, and David hit him abruptly from behind. Tariq’s shot went wild as he stumbled forward under the impact, the rifle and the flashlight skittering across the floor.

He spun instantly back to face David, his hands empty. Thick black blood was oozing down the side of his face from the gash in his head. He drew out the dagger at his waist, swinging it threateningly.

The light in the cell was dim, the flashlight lying on the stone floor pointing a halo at the far wall.

Out of the corner of his eye, David saw Jayde crawling over to the pile of blankets, to Kamilah. He had to hold Tariq’s attention, give them a chance to escape.

Tariq’s eyes were wild with anger. He inched closer to David, crouched, his knife swaying.

David raised the point of his dagger. “Don’t move, Tariq. Don’t force me to do this. Just let us go. We can put all this behind us.”

“Never,” Tariq snarled, inching even closer. “Even if you get past me, you’ll never make it over the border. I have already alerted Libyan troops. There is a column moving in from the east as we speak.”

David’s heart clenched.

Tariq came closer. Then in the blink of an eye, he lunged at David.

David jerked back, just missing the thrust of the blade. His heart pounded like a drum. He could see Jayde gathering Kamilah into her arms and hunkering down over her as she shuffled out of the cell.

Tariq lunged again, taking advantage of David’s distraction. David moved quickly, once again narrowly missing the swing of the blade.

Then Tariq came at him again. David jumped. But not fast enough. This time Tariq’s blade sliced his forearm. David felt the searing burn, the warmth of his own blood. But he could not bring himself to lunge forward, to plunge his
jambiya,
his father’s
jambiya,
into his brother’s body.

Tariq now had him backed up into the corner. He came at David with a final thrust. David swung to the side. Tariq stumbled forward with his own momentum. Before he regained his balance he lurched sideways after David. David tripped backward over the loose stone floor, and Tariq came down hard on top of him, right on top his David’s dagger, impaling himself on the blade. A soft grunt escaped his body as the blade sank deep into his chest.

David’s heart stopped. Tariq’s eyes were huge with silent shock. David could feel the wet, hot blood of his brother seeping thick over his hands. He rolled quickly over to his side, pushing his brother onto his back. The
jambiya
was buried in his chest to the hilt. His brother gaped up at him. Blood started to dribble from the corner of his mouth.

David got to his knees. “Tariq!”

His brother groaned.

“By God, Tariq, what have you done?”

A sound bubbled up from Tariq’s throat with the blood and spittle. He choked as he tried to speak. “I…I die for my people. I…go in peace. You…you will not escape…” He coughed, choked. And his head lolled to the side, his eyes wide and suddenly empty.

David stared at his father’s
jambiya.
The symbol of his unfulfilled promise. And tears spilled hot and furious down his cheeks. His whole body began to shake. “Why, Tariq? Why?” The pain in his own heart grew unbearable. He bent his head low over his brother, kissed his face and said a silent prayer for the salvation of his brother’s soul. And for his own soul. He closed his brother’s eyes.

Then he remembered the Libyan army. He could not afford to waste time. David left the
jambiya
stuck in his brother’s heart. He would not be able to bear ever touching it again. He covered Tariq with a blanket from the corner in which he’d found Kamilah. And then he fled down the passageway after his woman and his child.

He found them in the dunes with the camels. Jayde had already donned her chador and was mounted on her beast with the folds of her garment wrapped around his daughter.

“How is Kamilah?”

“She’s doing okay…considering.”

“And you, Jayde…your wound?”

“Surface. He struck in the dark, missed his mark, missed the vitals. I was lucky. I’ll be fine.” She stared at his arm. “You’re bleeding, David.”

“It’s nothing.” David couched his camel, mounted. “The Libyan army is on our tail,” he said quietly. “We must flee. We’ll take the southeast route and circle back into Al Abèche. They’ll be looking for us to the southwest, the direct route. Have our men gone?”

Jayde nodded. She clucked her tongue and kicked her camel into action. The southeast route would take them into the worst desert, and they had little water. But no choice.

They raced through what was left of the night. They slowed as dawn leaked blood-orange into the sky. “We must be over the border now,” David said. “Are you all right, Kamilah?”

His daughter was burrowed into Jayde’s chador. From under the folds she nodded her head, eyes still wide. She was in shock. They needed to get her treatment as soon as possible.

“Do you think they’ll cross the border?” Jayde asked.

“I don’t doubt it. We must keep moving.” He dug into the saddlebag and pulled out the sat-phone. Moriati picked up on the second ring. “We’ve got Kamilah. We’re in Azar, heading into Al Abèche from the east.”

Gio was silent. Then he spoke. “I don’t know how you pulled it off. Congratulations.”

“Halt the withdrawal of Force du Sable troops, Moriati. Ready them for a coup attempt.”

“Done.”

“And we need a chopper in Al Abèche ASAP. And have Watson on standby in Shendi. We have to move. The Libyan army is on our tail.”

“Jesus, have they come over the border?”

“We’re not sure but not risking it, either. We hope to make Al Abèche before nightfall.”

The sun was high in the sky. Jayde’s mouth was bone dry. She could see David was suffering, too. They’d given Kamilah what was left of their water. Their camels were under strain. They rode in limp and undulating silence as the desert sand blazed relentlessly and the sun beat down on their heads. They had only a few miles left to go by David’s calculation. They’d made record time. And were paying for it.