Chapter 5
It took Helena almost a week, but she got her warrant and a Red Notice issued for Garang.
Two days ago, Interpol had brought Abu, Lamya, Kuol, Fiza, and Nafisa in to testify.
They were under heavy guard for two days, but today they sat in the courtroom and heard the approval of the warrant for Kazim Garang for war crimes, including pressing men and boys into their militia, murder, and sexual violence, among several other counts.
Lamya reached over and grabbed Helena’s hand and squeezed it. “I know the fight’s not over, but this is the first victory we’ve had during my lifetime, and especially the last two years when Garang took over the opposition. We have hope now.”
Helena smiled and squeezed her hand back. “I hope we can bring him to justice and free your country from his terror. Don’t tell me where you are staying, but are you okay?”
“Oh, yes,” Fiza said, excitedly as she held her sister’s hand. “We’re going to go to school soon!”
Kuol and Abu nodded, their eyes filled with happiness. “I want to join the track club,” Abu told her.
“I have an interview for a construction job,” Kuol told her. He was beginning to put on weight too. Somehow in just a short amount of time, he also seemed to have grown. Abu was still lanky, but now his face, along with the others, was full and no longer hollowed from hunger.
“And I just got a job at this small family-run clothing shop. The clothes are beautiful and the family is very nice. I start next week. I can’t wait to make my own money now,” Lamya told her.
“Plus, Interpol got us an apartment big enough for all of us to live together. We feel safe, although it’s hard not to continue to look over our shoulders. ”
“You are safe,” Helena told them. “But it’s still good to be aware until we have Garang in custody.”
Helena and the group exited the building.
Interpol and local police surrounded the witnesses and spoke into hidden comms devices.
A black van began to drive up the street.
Helena listened to the young adults talk about school as two men in suits walked down the sidewalk toward them.
They were deep in conversation, so Helena’s eyes drifted back to the van.
Suddenly the attack came not from the van but from the businessmen.
What looked like sharp 3D-printed knives were pulled, and then they were on them.
Helena didn’t even have time to scream before one of them had stabbed Lamya.
The local officer fired his weapon and the man went down, but not before Helena was yanked so hard that she dropped her briefcase.
She found her back against the second man’s chest and a knife to her throat.
The Interpol agent, Kuol, and Abu were on their knees tending to Lamya, but the fear in the rest of their eyes told Helena everything she needed to know. She was going to die.
“This is a message from Garang. He found you. You lost,” the man’s hot breath whispered into her ear as the Interpol agents and local officers shouted at him to put down the knife. Instead, the knife pressed deeper into her delicate skin. She felt a warm trickle of blood.
Abu’s shouts stopped as he lifted his bloody hands from his sister’s wounds. “You don’t need to hurt her. Take me instead.”
“Garang will take you all!” There was a spray of warm liquid against the back of Helena’s head and neck. The arm holding the knife was shoved away from her throat.
Helena jumped forward as Interpol and local officers rushed forward. She placed her hand on her throat and felt the warmth of her blood. Luckily, it didn’t feel like a lot. She pressed on the wound hoping that would be enough to stop it.
“Were you just going to stand around holding your dicks while he killed her?”
Helena turned around to find a woman with long dark brown hair pulled back into a high ponytail standing there, wiping a bloody military knife on the black fabric of her suit pants.
She had slightly olive skin and looked Italian, yet sounded American.
The badge she wore on her belt showed that she was a U.S.
Marshal. But what was she doing in the Netherlands?
“Dammit Gilmore,” one of the Interpol agents cursed as he stepped forward. “Do you know the paperwork I’m going to have to do now?”
The woman didn’t seem to care. She rolled her brown eyes at him and placed her hands on her hips.
She was a couple of inches taller than Helena and way more athletic.
“You’re already doing paperwork for the guy you shot.
You’re lucky I was here to collect my fugitive or this woman would be dead.
And that’s a hell of a lot more paperwork. ”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Helena said, turning to the woman after checking to make sure Lamya wasn’t seriously hurt. It was a deep cut, but it had sliced her on the side and would be fine after some stitches. “But thank you for rescuing me. I’m Helena Diakos, a human rights attorney from New York.”
“Marshal Bella Gilmore. From Detroit.” The young woman looked to be in her late twenties. She didn’t smile. She kept her eyes scanning the area. She was a no-nonsense badass. “Seems you’re in trouble, Miss Diakos.”
“Helena, please. It seems I am. I just got a Red Notice issued for Kazim Garang. They are my witnesses,” Helena said to where paramedics who were now rushing to the scene.
“They’re going to take them to a secure location. They can’t tell you where. Do you have any protection, Miss Diakos?” Bella asked.
“No. I don’t. I didn’t think I’d need it.”
“Are you staying here or going back to the States?”
“Going back to the States.”
“Want to catch a ride with us? You’ll be on a plane full of marshals.” Bella turned her head and nodded to a group off to the side. Helena hadn’t noticed them before, but there were three men surrounding an armored vehicle. “We’re transporting a fugitive back to New York.”
Bella looked back to where an Interpol agent was approaching. The threat of Garang was real. He’d just proven it. No offense to Interpol, but she felt safer with Bella. “I’d love to. I have an apartment two minutes away. I can meet you at the airport minutes after you get there.”
“I’ll give security your name. Wheels up in an hour. If you’re not there, we have to leave you.”
“I’ll be there. Thank you, Marshal Gilmore.”
The woman nodded and turned back to her group. The Interpol agent stopped with a frown on his face. “We’ll have to move them to a new location. Lamya will be fine, but it was a shock.”
Disappointment filled Helena. There would be no more track for Abu. There would be no more family boutique for Lamya. There would be no more school for the girls. They would have to start over . . . again. Hopefully they could find a school and jobs they loved wherever they ended up.
“Can I say goodbye?” Helena asked.
“Quickly.”
Helena hugged each of them. Promised they’d have just as good a life where they moved and told them it could be weeks to years until they saw each other again, but to know she would think of them every day.
“Go have the life Garang tried to take from you. You’re all very brave. I wish you nothing but happiness.”
Helena wiped a tear from her eyes as they got into their transport and took off.
Then Helena was running to the apartment she’d rented after realizing just how much time she’d be spending in the Netherlands.
She threw her clothes into her bag, did a quick sweep of her room, then hailed a cab to the airport.
She paid them an extra twenty euros to speed.
The car dropped her at security for the private airfield the embassies used.
She showed her passport, underwent security screening protocol, and was escorted to the American section of the airport.
A private jet waited for them. However, it wasn’t the lavish jet of celebrities.
It was a full armory and jail for transporting prisoners.
“You made it with two minutes to spare,” Bella said from the top of the stairs. “Let’s go.”
Helena climbed the stairs and looked inside.
This wasn’t her family’s private jet with luxurious leather seats, couches, a large television, or a bar.
This was basic seats, some with a table between them as you see on trains, and six literal cells.
The fugitive was handcuffed with his feet shackled to the floor in one of them.
Now that Helena had seen the fugitive, she didn’t need to ask who he was.
He was a leader of a religious group that had sent cells of radicalized college students to different universities to blow up their student centers.
He’d been successful at two such schools, killing thirty and injuring hundreds, before the other cells were caught.
He’d terrorized universities around the globe for months, holding them hostage out of fear.
“This is my team,” Bella said as Helena took one of the empty seats. She smiled at the men, some of whom smiled back and some who barely grunted a greeting.
Bella took the seat next to Helena. “I know about Garang. He’s dangerous and vindictive. You really need to contact the FBI when you get back and have them put a detail on you.”
Helena sighed. “I doubt they will. It could be decades, if ever, before Garang is brought to justice. He won’t leave South Sudan.
The FBI won’t put a detail on me for that long.
He’s made his point. It’ll be harder to get to me in the U.S.
I’m sure he’ll move on to the next way to torture the people of South Sudan. ”
Bella reached into her pocket, pulled out a card, and handed it to her. “Either way, if you need help, call me.”
Helena smiled as she read Bella’s full name: Bellona. The Roman goddess of war. Guess Bella went into the right line of work. She was certainly as fierce as the goddess herself.
The plane took off and Bella typed quietly on her laptop. The adrenaline from the day seeped away and Helena closed her eyes. She was asleep within minutes.
Helena’s condo was in the heart of New York City.
It was in one of her father’s buildings, but she had bought the unit herself.
It was home. It was hers. And she couldn’t wait to get there.
She’d ordered a car to pick her up at the airport since Bella and her team were transporting their fugitive straight to a holding cell.
Now, her building came into view and the idea of a hot shower, some food delivery, and pajamas for the next twenty-four hours sounded like paradise.
Helena pulled her suitcase and briefcase from the backseat and thanked the driver.
The doorman, Harsha, welcomed her home as he opened the door for her.
“How’s your wife?” Helena asked about Harsha’s pregnant wife.
“Impatient and ready to no longer be pregnant. We’re very excited her time is near.”
“I have a gift for you upstairs. Do you want me to bring it down?” Helena asked. Harsha and his wife lived in a smaller apartment on the building’s ground floor.
Harsha took her suitcase and shook his head. “I’ll carry this up for you. It’s kind of you to think of us.”
Helena and Harsha talked on the way up to her condo. She unlocked the door and Harsha carried her bag inside, but he froze at the end of her entryway. “Helena . . .”
Helena stepped forward and froze. She felt the blood drain from her face. Along the far wall, written in red, was a note to her. Garang welcomes you home.
Harsha was calling the police as Helena felt her body shake with fear. Harsha wrapped his arm around her and pulled her from the condo and out into the hallway. The next three hours were a blur of police, FBI, and her father ripping into his security company for how someone got into her condo.
“Seems to me that you are enemy number one.”
Helena turned to see U.S. Marshal Bella Gilmore standing next to her. “What are you doing here?”
“Heard your name come across the wire and thought I’d check in on you. I saved your life not eighteen hours ago. It seems as if you might need me to watch your back.”
“You’re offering to protect me? You know this could go on for years, right?”
Bella shrugged. “Not with this escalation. And hey, taking down a warlord could be fun. Have anywhere safe we could go or do you want me to find a safehouse?”
Helena looked down at the text that just came through from her best friend, Quinn. Get your ass to Keeneston so we can look out for you.
“Yeah, I have a place. We’re going to Keeneston, Kentucky.”
Bella’s lips finally turned up into a smile. “I knew you were going to be my new best friend. I’ve been trying to get into a training facility there for a year. It’s the perfect place for us to go. Pack a bag. We leave for Keeneston in thirty minutes.”