Freedom Does Matter (Mercenaries Book 2) (16 page)

“I brought Noorah—”

Tahirah spat at Beckie’s foot and launched into a tirade which, since the girl reverted to her native language, Beckie understood only in its emotional context. When the girl stopped for a breath, Beckie reached to grab her arm and pull her to stand before her. She raised her hand as if to slap the girl, more to get her attention than to strike her, but Tahirah gasped as the hand went up. Beckie’s motion arrested the girl; she flinched, dropping to her knees. Quavering, she bowed her head, obviously waiting for the blow.

“Min fadlik,” she whimpered. “Please… please don’t beat me.”

Beckie glanced over at Sue, who looked as surprised as she felt.

“Wow,” Beckie said. “Now there’s a Pavlovian response.”

“Yeah. And she kept saying they should go back. I wonder why.”

Tahirah’s head remained bowed, her hair spilt on the floor around her. Beckie lifted her by the arm as she said, “’Cause it’s the only thing she knows, probably. You saw the tent. If you’d lived there for all your life, what would being grabbed, thrown into a plane and brought here mean to you?”

“Lotta confusion, you’re right. You want me to take her?”

Beckie raised Tahirah’s head to scrutinize her face. She rubbed a tear track away while saying, “No. When we’re done here, I’ll make sure she’s scrubbed.”

Sue grinned. “Okay. I’ll check with Xia, see if she needs any help.”

“Okay.” Beckie returned Sue’s smile. “And thanks.”

Sue waved as she went through the door.

“Now, Tahirah, am I pronouncing it correctly?”

“Yes, Miss.” Her head remained downcast.

“Okay…” She drew the word out for several seconds, but the girl didn’t look up. Again, Beckie reached to catch her chin and held it up.

The girl was perhaps an inch taller than Beckie. While the tunic and trousers were loose and baggy, she didn’t appear overfed. She might not weigh as much as me. Her hair was long, long as Beckie’s, and now, falling over her face. Beckie brushed; as she did, the girl pulled it from both sides, laying the black tresses down her back. Her face was dirty, tear-stained, thin without being gaunt. Beckie decided it was average, neither long nor wide. Her mouth was framed by lips that had been split in the past couple of days; a thin dark line marked the scab. Her eyes were large, dark, wide-set over a… She’s got a real cute nose, turned up like that. Eyebrows and lashes were dark and heavy, like her hair.

“Okay,” Beckie repeated, “let’s get started. Why do you think you’re here?” Still holding the girl’s jaw, she went on softly, “What do you think… or fear, we’re going to do with you?” She gazed into Tahirah’s eyes. “What were you saying about Noorah?”

Fear bloomed in Tahirah’s eyes and she shied away. Beckie brought her head back around. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Tahirah. I promise.” She ran her finger along the girl’s jaw.

“I am sorry, Miss.” Her voice caught repeatedly. “We do not know why we are here. Our… our mother told us we must go with you, but not why.”

“Well, she didn’t have a lot of time.”

“It is because of Noorah.” Her eyes flashed with anger; Beckie hoped it wasn’t hatred. “Noorah was sent to free us from injustice, but she failed. Failed! And then returned to lay her failure and ask…” She couldn’t continue.

Beckie rocked back on her heels. She’s gotta mean killing Ian and—

“While the killing was wrong,” Tahirah said, “it was ordered. The sheikh took Nasir and would kill him.”

“Why was he with you, then?”

The look on Tahirah’s face was surprise, as if she’d forgotten Beckie’s presence. “Why? The sheikh wished Nasir for a different… task.” She faced down. “I am sorry. I do not have many words.”

“You’re doing fine. But why are you angry with Noorah?”

“She returned after her failure! We lost honor with her. She should not have returned.”

“She’s greatly worried about you.”

Tahirah spat on the floor again. “She cannot worry. Even if the sheikh is wrong in his commands, they are his commands.”

“Wrong?”

“Killing another is against the Qur’an.”

No point in discussing that, Beckie thought. Especially when I agree with her! “Why did they… take her hand?”

Tahirah blanched. “For theft, the sheikh said. She had stolen from him.”

Beckie was sure her confusion showed. “What did she steal?”

“He said, time. For failing to fill his command.”

Beckie cursed for a couple of seconds before controlling herself.

Wide-eyed, the girl went on, “He thought the infidel would be attracted by—”

“Well, he got that right! So where was he when we came?”

“I do not know. He was very angry… yesterday, when he was called. I cannot repeat—”

“That’s okay. I can guess.”

“Hey!” From the door, Sue’s cheerful call took their attention. “You girls ready for the shower? Nasir’s out and it’s free.” She held the door open. “I left a long tee-shirt there for her,” she said with a nod to Tahirah. “When do you have to get back?”

Beckie looked at the clock. “I have a few more minutes. Long enough to make sure Tahirah doesn’t get washed down the drain.” She laughed as the girl jerked around to stare at her. “Don’t worry. It’s a joke.” She patted the girl atop the head, then turned to Sue. “How long can you spend here before you need to get home?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” she said with a grin. “Rich is off in South America helping Barbara, so while I’m here, I’ll help Abby validate their dubious suppositions.” She laughed. “And fill out Ian’s reports, too.”

“Abby?”

“Abby Rochambeau. Derek’s protégé.”

Connecting the two names, Beckie thought back to April, just before she and Ian headed to Durban to meet his parents. She did recall Jolene Abigail Rochambeau—Abby. A little older than Beckie, a little taller than Beckie, with her mocha skin and brown eyes the woman had been stunning in the white dress she’d worn when Derek introduced her to Ian, Kevin, Shalin and herself. He’d been over the moon about her record at both Columbia University and the UN, where he’d recruited her for her international policies background. “Oh, yeah. Derek thinks she’s a genius?”

Sue giggled. “And nothing I’ve seen disputes that. She’s going to be very good.” She ran fingers through her hair. “Anyway, I’ve got a little time to spare before she’s ready.”

Beckie smiled as she caught Tahirah’s arm and headed for the door.

Twenty minutes later, Tahirah had been scrubbed to within an inch of her life and, wrapped in a huge towel, was sitting cross-legged before Sue as the woman wielded the hair dryer. Beckie smiled and walked out, headed to the hospital.

“Hi, Beckie.” Doctor Krishna’s greeting at the door was a pleasant surprise, though Beckie suspected it portended a longer wait than she’d hoped.

Still, she thought, that’s not her fault. “Hi, Doctor Krishna.”

“Call me Shakti, please.”

“Sure. Thanks for working on Noorah’s arm.”

The woman’s face turned to dismay. “That was a terrible thing. Do we know why…”

Beckie gave her a quick look and then an almost quicker précis of what the girl had been through. “At least, as far as we know. She wasn’t in much condition to talk when we found her.”

“That’s for sure,” the doctor said. “Well, the cut was clean, I have to say. If she wants, a prosthetic hand could be fitted.”

“How close to her real hand would it be?”

“Maybe twenty-five to thirty percent capability. Was she right-handed?”

Beckie thought for a second. “I think so. Yeah. She held the gun in her right hand.”

“So it’s likely. Most are. In that case, maybe thirty-five percent, since it wasn’t dominant.”

Beckie smiled, a smile that had nothing to do with their present conversation.

The two women spoke at once. Shakti’s “Millie asked…” overlapped Beckie’s, “I’ll bet you’re here…” They giggled together at the joint interruptions, then Shakti took Beckie’s arm and walked her into the building, away from the room Beckie wanted to visit.

“Let’s have a tea, Beckie.”

The invitation lacked subtlety, so much so that Beckie had to laugh and hug the other woman from the side. “Really, Shakti, does Millie think I’ll get lost in here and end up in Ian’s room by mistake?”

“No. She’s convinced you’ll end up there intentionally, and for the next little while, that would be… inconvenient, I think… yes, inconvenient.”

“Okay. Do I sit here?”

“If you like. I’m—”

“I know. You’re my guide while I’m inside, to keep me from heading anywhere I shouldn’t be.” She was sure her grin was more grimace than grin.

Shakti’s gaze dropped and she shuffled her feet, then she looked up. “Well, you’ll admit, with all the stories that came back with you. And three kids, too!”

Beckie frowned, then sat back with a half-hearted grin. “So, as long as you’re on ‘me duty,’ tell me about the prospects for a hand for Noorah.”

The setting sun had shone in Beckie’s face through the window and then dropped out of sight before Millie entered the conference room. While her face was tired, it didn’t look as worried as Beckie had feared it might—as worried as it had two weeks ago.

“Head on home, Shakti. Thanks for watching her for me.”

Once the woman closed the door behind her, Beckie turned to Millie. “There was no need for you to ruin Shakti’s day. I thought I was well-behaved last time, once I understood what was going on—”

“Yes, you were. Still, past performance and all that. I was worried that… that the stakes were enough higher that you might forget, that’s all. And we didn’t need any interruptions.”

“Sooo?”

“He’s awake and wondering who the girl next to him is.”

Beckie could feel elation suffuse her.

“When we told him that you’d brought her back, he wondered who you…”

When she heard Millie say “he wondered who you” Beckie’s world ended. With a strangled wail of despair, she stared in Millie’s direction, but didn’t see the woman. Gone? I’ve lost him? It can’t… Her plans rushed though her mind. Her plans with him. What do I do now? Please, let me fade away with him! Slack-jawed and sobbing, she slid down into her chair, then off it to the floor where she curled up, not accepting input from any of her senses.

Chapter Seventeen

Day Sixteen - The Nest

I KNEW IT!

THE SCREAMS in her head continued for what felt like hours. What! What? Now… Something was interrupting her agony. She heard “joke” over and over. Beckie raised her head, rubbing the temple where it’d struck the table leg as she fell. Millie’s fucking kidding me? I’ll kill her! No. No, I won’t. But…

She fought her way off the floor and grabbed Millie’s scrubs in her fists. “What? What did you say? Tell me again, now!”

The doctor looked like Beckie had just felt as she drew back a few inches and said. “I… I was kidding, Beckie. I thought… I thought I’d have a moment’s fun with you before we see him.” She swallowed. Several times. “He seems fine.”

Beckie glared at her, then her rage began to fade, about as fast as the tide ebbing. She forced a neutral expression as she relaxed her grip. “Well…” Her calm face was almost natural, now. “I admit, if it’d been anyone else, I’d probably have laughed with you.” The two women stepped apart, but Beckie picked up her chair and sat instead.

She hadn’t handled herself very well, she thought. This is why Ian argued against me working with him; I’m too invested to cope with… With death and other infirmities! she thought angrily. But I’ll have to, to be with him, or we’ll have to quit. He’s not ready to quit, I know that. Neither am I! She gave Millie a long look. “Thanks.” She caught her lower lip under her teeth. “Let’s keep this between us, okay?”

The doctor’s face relaxed. “Yeah, that’d be good. For me anyway.”

“Me, too.”

They shared a smile, then Millie asked, “Thanks?”

Beckie took Millie’s hands; held them firmly. “Your stupid joke made me realize I’m so far from being detached from the things we do.” She took her hands back and rubbed her temples again, then gazed into Millie’s hazel eyes. “I don’t mean unfeeling. After Kevin’s text, I thought I was okay, emotionally anyway. I could go on, do what needed to be done. And— No, wait…” she said as Millie tried to interrupt. “I did go on. I got here and even to Egypt and did what I needed to.” She threw herself back in her chair. “But that was ‘cause I repressed it, I guess. The terror that I might lose Ian for good.” She leaned forward again. “And you brought it all back.”

Millie caught Beckie’s attention by sitting up a little straighter and clasping Beckie’s hands as Beckie had just done hers. “So, what will you do?”

Beckie looked up from staring at the table top. “Huh?”

“Do you quit? Do you ask Ian to—”

“No, dammit! I can’t do that. Either one.”

“Okay—”

“It’s like riding a horse,” Beckie continued over Millie’s hesitant start. “You’ll likely get thrown if you’re pushing. You can tell the riders who’ll succeed by how they handle that. Can they put it behind them, get comfortable in the saddle again? If they can…

“It’s the same thing here. If Ian’s injury is my getting thrown, I’ve gotta get back up and ride. Ride hard and successfully. That’s why I said thanks. You showed me that. That I have to get past it if Ian and I… Well, if we anything.”