Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Aaron's Honor (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Men of Mercy Book 8) (4 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Celine eased back onto the incredibly plush cushions of the low-lying white couch and inhaled the sweet aroma of jasmine. Polished white granite floors with veins of gold streaking throughout were dotted with huge columns that ran up to domed hand-painted ceilings. Priceless vases filled with bright colorful flowers. Soft different colored rugs and a gigantic bed adorned with silk throws and pillows. The entire room was out of an Arabian fantasy.

While stark desert lay as far as she could see beyond the walls, the palace itself bordered on a tropical oasis with potted palm trees and bright green and pink flowers filling the surrounding courtyard, trapped much like herself in a world she didn't belong.

Her servant, A’idah, had dressed her in what she called a hijab - like a long tunic that fitted about the waist and a matching long sleeved skin tight type of slip to wear underneath. She'd also insisted Celine wear the matching head scarf, but Celine put her foot down. She had no intention of being here long enough to worry about adopting the Muslim dress code.

What she wouldn't give right now for her tiny apartment and cramped bedroom littered with clothing and shoes strewn across the floor. Her friends always laughed at the fact her home looked more like a nuclear bomb site and Celine laughed right along with them. She'd never been one of those people who needed everything clean and in order, in fact, this place was so spotless she was afraid to walk on the carpets.

“Miss, may I offer you some fruit?” A’idah picked the silver tray up off a hand carved table nearby and held out her offering.

“No, thank you. When is Mr. Mankel coming by? How is Caroline? When can I see her?”

“I'm sure he will be by soon to answer your questions. Perhaps you would prefer a soothing tea?” A’idah replaced the tray and stood before her, the perfect picture of modesty, everything but her face covered in a traditional hijab of bright blue and yellow.

“Could you take me to see my friend?”

A’idah ducked her head, avoiding Celine's gaze, and an anxious sort of dread moved through her. Celine had been here a day and a half and hadn't been able to see Caroline. This morning when she'd insisted to see Caroline, she'd been refused. And still now, with the deep orange and gold of sunset painting the room like a masterpiece, she couldn't get a straight answer.

“A’idah, I demand to see Caroline.”

A’idah edged backwards to the door. “I'm sorry, miss, but you must wait on Mr. Mankel to escort you. It is not safe for you to roam the halls unprotected.”

“Is that why my door is locked?” Celine spit out. She'd discovered her gilded cage only today, when she'd tried to go exploring.

“Yes, miss. Your protection. I will inform Mr. Mankel of your wish. Please, try and eat. I worry about your health.”

“I am fine, really, you worry too much.” Although Celine silently enjoyed A’idah’s company. The girl might have been reserved and shy, but she’d stayed with Celine throughout her first day, providing company and comfort as Celine recovered from her nightmares.

“You have been very kind to me and I seek to return the favor.” A’idah sighed, “But I’ve come to recognize your stubborn streak and know you will not eat. I will leave you to rest now. I placed the bell next to your bed if you have problems with sleep again. Ring if you need company.” A’idah ducked out of the room.

Celine heard the lock snick into place and sighed. She wouldn’t disturb A’idah’s sleep, knowing the girl must work full time as a servant and needed her rest, no matter how bad the nightmares got.

Just a little while longer and she'd be state side and could put this whole nightmare behind her. She limped over through the large open archway and out onto her second story balcony, the short walk leaving her breathless. Her chest and face throbbed from the attack. But worse than that was the nightmares. The horror movie of her captor ripping away her shirt while she lay helpless beneath him plagued her nights. A chill worked down her spine despite the heat.

The horrors of the past two weeks wouldn't be shaken in a day, she knew that, but her new found weakness was a pitiful pill to swallow.

A doctor had been sent yesterday soon after her arrival for a complete exam. She’d shuddered when he did the pelvic exam, but gritted her teeth and endured. She hadn’t been raped, but the doctor insisted she could have still contracted a disease. After prescribing her a strict diet of small meals, supplements and lots of water, he’d declared her battered and dehydrated, but otherwise healthy. She would make a full recovery.

After continuously probing him throughout the exam about Caroline, he’d finally caved and informed her that her friend wasn’t quite as resilient. He’d put Caroline on IV fluids and medications to help combat an infection she’d contracted.

They could've been killed, or ransomed or raped, or both, and no one would've cared. No one would've stopped them.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and Celine spun around, gripping the thick balcony behind her for support when she spied a woman dressed in a blue burka standing in the middle of her room. The woman didn't move, merely stood there, staring at her through the blue screen over her eyes. Celine felt the fear taking control - her heart sped up, her throat closed off - and she was helpless to stop it.

“Solana, why are you in here?” Mr. Mankel came into the room and Celine’s knees wobbled in relief.

The woman said something to him that Celine couldn't hear and abruptly left the room. Mankel shook his head and came out onto the balcony with Celine.

“I'm sorry, I'm afraid my daughter is very curious about our American guests.”

“You make your daughter wear that...that prison?”

“Only when we have company coming. I'm afraid local Muslims are very strict and I cannot risk offense as this is my home.” He stepped up to the balustrade, leaned on his elbows and stared out onto the horizon

“You live here full time?”

“Unfortunately, yes, at least for now.”

Celine didn't have to imagine the regret in his voice. This place was wild and exotic but at the same time backwards and deadly. “I can't imagine. What I wouldn't give for a pair of jeans and tennis shoes.”

Mankel's gaze raked her, a small smile in place. “You shunned the scarf I see.”

“No way am I ever wearing one of those. I respect the local custom, but don’t condone it for myself.” Celine gave a polite shudder.

“It is that or death for them. I think you might feel differently if you lived here.” Mr. Mankel's response was as measured as his tailored suit.

“Don't you ever wear anything besides suits?”

The fine lines around his dark eyes crinkled with laughter. “That's one thing I miss about America, the bluntness. People aren't afraid to say what they think.”

Celine blushed realizing she overstepped the boundaries.

“Don't be embarrassed, it's refreshing. I can only take so many servants bowing to me and catering to my every wish without getting sick to my stomach, you know? Besides, I know the local styles must be a shock, that’s why I had my servant purchase suitable western clothing for your trip home, I hope you like them.”

Mankel snapped his fingers and a man rushed in, eyes bowed, a golden foil wrapped gift outstretched. Mankel took the box and the servant melted away. He then handed it to Celine.

She took it, gingerly at first. “For me?”

“Yes, of course. Go on, open it.”

She ripped into the wrapping with the enthusiasm of a toddler with her first Christmas present. Inside lay a pair of jeans, a loose flowing blouse made of expensively soft material and a deep blue silk nightgown. She blushed instantly, holding the intimate garment in front of Mr. Mankel, but clutched the clothes to her chest like a gem.

“I hope it’s suitable?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yes, it’s perfect.” She would slip into the gown as soon as he left. Her current attire already seemed to tighten and constrict.

“Perfect, my manservant will be pleased. Has A’idah said or done anything to offend you?” Mankel kept his voice soft and gentle, a strange sort of scary monotone.

Beneath Celine sensed a hidden darkness. “No, not in the least, she has been nothing but respectful and helpful. It's just that, after the past two weeks...”

“Yes, of course, there must be a stark difference in my home and that hovel where you were kept prisoner. I'm sorry if I've offended you.”

“No, please don't think that.” Celine blew out a sigh. “I don't think I said thank you for saving me and Caroline. When I think about what could've happened, what he could've done –”

Mankel cut her off abruptly. “Don't think about that ever again. My walls are patrolled twenty-four hours a day and I have a full security detail at all times. I dare to say we are safer here than the president of the United States. Besides, tomorrow you'll be leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“Yes, the senator is flying in on his private plane. You'll be escorted to the airport and before you know it you'll be out of this country.”

“Does Caroline know?”

Mr. Mankel straightened to his full height, a good foot taller than her. A man like that was too big for a suit, but he seemed to wear it like a second skin. Even more strange was his black hair and black eyes, the only evidence of his age the bright silver at his temple. “She does, I had the pleasure of delivering the news myself.”

“Can you take me to her? A’idah said you have to escort me. I need to see her.” Celine didn't bother trying to hide the edge of desperation she felt. Caroline had become part of her, more than a friend. She needed to talk to her.

Mankel's lips turned out into a slight frown. “I'm afraid she's already turned in for the night. She seems to be having a bit slower recovery than yourself.”

Celine blinked away the sudden onset of tears at the helplessness of her situation and stared out at the last rays of sunset over the horizon. God, she hated this godforsaken country and its archaic rules. If she were at home, she'd march down the hall herself...actually she would already be with Caroline because no one would have stopped her. But here, she needed a male escort and to be covered from head to toe just to walk down the hall.

“I'll put on a head scarf. I promise I won't disturb her; I just need to see her.” She couldn't look at him as she swallowed what little pride she had left and begged.

“Not tonight. Tomorrow morning. I have some business to attend to and I'll make sure I'm free to escort you.”

She managed a nod, feeling like she was some sort of little girl asking her father for permission to go play and being told no. She would never, ever take her freedoms for granted again.

“Good, now tell me a little bit more about yourself. What's been your education, any foreign languages? College?”

Celine startled at the abrupt change in conversation. “I had a little French in high school. No college. I went into business for myself, opened my own shop back home.”

“An entrepreneur. I knew I detected a stern nature. Perfect, and what about family? Brothers and sisters?”

“Yes, one sister. She lives near my father. My mom disappeared when we were little.”

“Disappeared? Kidnapped?”

A hot blush stole up her neck. “No, she got addicted to drugs and ran off with someone else.”

Mankel cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, the hurt at her mother’s betrayal had stopped affecting her years ago. “It’s happened to lots of families. We survived just fine without her.”

Mankel paused, as if in deep thought and then continued. “I bet that made you closer to your dad and sister.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty tight. Dad just retired from the local mill and my sister, well, she works when she can. I don’t get to see them as much now, since I work so much.”

“And what about a husband or a boyfriend?”

“No, there's no one.” Bitterness crept in, catapulting her next words out of her mouth. “And what about you? Do you have a wife or girlfriend? Family besides your daughter? Did you go to college?”

Mankel gave a short laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I apologize; I wasn't trying to interrogate you.”

For some reason she didn't believe him.

“I had a wife, she died in childbirth, along with Solana's twin sister. I've been roaming ever since and unfortunately for my daughter, dragging her along with me.”

His words took the wind out of her suspicion. She needed more rest, yes that was it. She needed sleep. Here she was imagining all sorts of vile thoughts about the man who saved her and put her up in a palace. A real palace. “I'm so sorry. I think these past couple of weeks might be affecting my brain.”

Idiot
. Her dad had been right about one thing - Celine's big mouth would land her in trouble at some point in her life.
I bet dad never imagined this.

“Don't apologize, I was asking too many questions. Besides, you should be resting not standing here chatting with an old man. Let me help you back to the couch.” Mankel held out his arm expectantly.

Celine took it, not wanting to offend him more. “Thank you.”

He escorted her back to the couch and helped her sit. “Do you need anything else?”