CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Cole? Are you sure this woman didn’t know who you were?” asked Luke with some concern for his friends’ son.
“I’m not sure how she could have. I was in that well for four days, no one on my team was taken, no one knew we were there. Besides all of that, no one saw me or came by in all that time. Her face was the first I’d seen in days.”
“Which brings about another point, are you sure this isn’t you falling in love with your rescuer?” asked Eric.
“If you weren’t older, and bigger,” smirked Cole, “I’d punch you in the nose for that. No. I mean, I obviously saw how beautiful she was right away and she was kind, and sweet, and…”
“Okay, okay, lover, we get it,” grinned Hex. “Now, what do we do about her grandfather?”
“We kill him,” said Hala walking toward the group with Ham. He smiled down at her, nodding at his son who took her hand and pulled her in, hugging her.
“Are you sure, babe?” Hala smiled at him, the term of endearment piercing her heart. “You can’t go back, you know that. I don’t want you to go back. But taking his life, that’s something you might not be able to live with.”
“I can live with it,” she said resolutely. “He killed my parents and countless others. He’s robbed hundreds, if not thousands of people of their time with loved ones. He’s kept my country at war, pitting tribes and political factions against one another. I’m ashamed that I didn’t run sooner.”
“There is no shame in self-preservation,” said Cam.
“You can’t do a damn thing if you’re dead.
It took great courage for you to rescue Cole and we’re grateful for that.
We’re going to do some research and see what we can come up with on the area he marched to.
Do you know when he was supposed to be back? ”
She thought for a moment, trying to remember how many days it had been since she rescued Cole.
“He should be coming back to our village now unless he encountered issues along the way,” said Hala.
“Alright then. We find him and destroy the real nuke.”
“Where is my granddaughter?” asked the weathered, stooped man.
“We don’t know. She left to deliver the materials to our men at camp and she hasn’t returned.”
“And you didn’t think to notify me?” he yelled. “Find her!”
“We found the donkey. It still had the supplies on its back and was wandering near the village on the other side of the camp.”
“Why would she be over there?”
“The donkey, sir, he’s very stubborn and often doesn’t listen except for Hala,” said one of his men.
“Find her. And kill that donkey,” he growled.
He’d hoped to encourage her to see his way of thinking. To understand that this was the way of their people. Kill anyone who doesn’t believe in their cause, in their vision of a new Syria. Especially the Americans and British.
Decades of trying to get the government to fight with him had discouraged him from doing things the ‘right’ way. They wanted to attempt diplomacy. They wanted to attempt to conduct peace talks, the joining of hands with neighboring nations.
They were fools. No one was worried about Syria unless you were Syrian, and more specifically, the ancient tribes of Syria. Power. Power is what people responded to. Especially nuclear power.
The Chinese had it. The North Koreans had it. The Americans had it. Dozens of others, all who lied about having it. Why shouldn’t Syria possess the same power?
Human activity in Syria dates back nearly seven-hundred-thousand years. It quite possibly could be the birthplace of human civilization. He believed it. He would make others believe it as well. Even if it killed him.
In the meantime, he needed his granddaughter and her brain. His son had been intelligent. Probably too intelligent. He’d figured out a way to escape with his wife and daughter. Thankfully, he stopped that escape.
His daughter-in-law hid her intelligence. But he found out soon enough that she too was brilliant. Both refused to buy into his plans. His way of getting even was to use their daughter. Her knowledge of math and science at a very young age told him that she would be something special.
Sending her to medical school in America had been a mistake. He’d hoped that she would see their society, their customs, and want to return home. Instead, her bodyguards warned him that if she got her licensing in America, she could never return.
The way to keep her in place was simply to show her what would occur if she dared to run.
It was easy enough. Hasir’s wives dared to try and escape.
One had tried to escape to her parents in Italy.
Fortunately, he caught her, dragged her back and she was beaten for days, stripped naked in front of all the men.
Her face, disfigured, was covered with a veil but her body was open to any man who wished to use it.
Eventually he couldn’t stand the sight of her and killed her.
Yes, Hala witnessed it all and he could tell that it had the impact he wanted. Then why had she disappeared? Perhaps she was kidnapped or killed by someone. Or maybe another tribe had taken her as a hostage.
“Sir?” said one of his men. “We searched the area where the donkey was found. There were footprints in the sand, including tracks from a truck. We can’t be certain she was there, but it’s a possibility. I fear the video footage could be real. She’s with those three individuals.”
“Get to Aleppo and see if our men have seen anything there. She didn’t just disappear.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Benin? If she’s betrayed me, drag her back here to face me.”