Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Saskia woke suddenly, her seat shaking with enough force to startle her.
The plane had landed and was rapidly decelerating.
She looked up blearily, then blushed realizing she’d been sleeping on Radik’s shoulder.
She watched him from the corner of her eye as he straightened, stretching his huge body.
How long had she been asleep? Oh god, what if she drooled on him?
There was enough daylight for her to see trees rushing past the windows.
She cleared her throat and took a sip from the water bottle he’d given her earlier. “How long was I asleep for?”
“About six hours,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I slept for six hours?” Oh god, she had definitely drooled on him! Probably snored too. So unsexy. “Where are we?” she asked as the plane came to a stop.
Out the windows she could see a small airfield with a dirt runway and thick bushes on either side. There were no buildings except for a small shack with a windsock on it.
“We are in the Congo-Kinshasa.” He watched her carefully and she knew he was waiting to see if she’d done her homework.
As a graduation gift, he’d given her a book titled Welcome to the Congo.
She’d read it cover-to-cover multiple times and then did her own research, learning everything she could about the area.
She’d suspected he’d wanted her to, was trying to tell her something by sending the book. Turns out, she was right.
She was currently in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, referred to as Congo-Kinshasa by locals to differentiate the country from Congo-Brazzaville or Republic of the Congo, a neighboring country.
“Also known as the RDC or République Démocratique du Congo,” she told him, though of course he would already know that, but now he knew she knew her shit. “How far from Kinshasa are we?” Kinshasa was the capital city for the RDC.
“About 1000 kilometers northeast.”
They were still in the rainforest, so they hadn’t gone as far as the Ubangi-Uele plateaus, but they probably weren’t far from the Central African Republic border. “Are we near any kind of civilization?” she asked him.
“There are a few villages in the vicinity, but not the type of civilization you are likely referring to. I’ve stayed alive by keeping myself and my people off the radar.”
Once the engines were shut off, Radik unbuckled her seatbelt and took her hand, helping her stand. People were unbuckling and standing all around them, making the space feel claustrophobic.
Radik said something to Shola in Afrikaans, the words rapid. Something about securing the area.
“Are we in danger here?” Saskia asked as he led her off the plane and onto the dirt runway. Warm, humid air smacked her in the face, a light misting rain giving the lush forest around them a fuzzy look. It smelled wonderful, floral and fresh.
“You’re safe within my territory,” he promised, tightening his hand on hers. “I’m a cautious man when it comes to security. My vigilance has kept me and mine safe over the years. I will not compromise on security.”
Her heart sank. It sounded like he was taking her to what could become her prison. She doubted she could make it to any of the villages he’d mentioned on her own and she had no way to reach the outside world without a phone. Oh wait, her phone!
“Where’s my phone?”
“It’s safe,” Radik said.
“I want it back.”
“Not yet.”
A frustrated growl bubbled up her throat. “I’m not a child, Radik.”
A beat-up truck that looked like it should’ve been retired decades ago pulled up beside them and a man jumped out, tossing the keys at Radik who grabbed them. “I prefer if you call me Muhammed.”
“Fine. I want my phone, Muhammed.”
He led her around to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door for her. “Your phone can be traced and I would imagine that is exactly what your cousin is attempting to do.” He slammed the door shut, closing her in the dusty cab.
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that, but she did need to call her cousin. As Radik was climbing in the other side, she asked, “Can I borrow your phone? And do you happen to know Jozef’s number? I should probably tell him I’m safe.”
Radik laughed, the booming sound filling the vehicle with merriment and her with unexpected tingles. “You are of the generation that don’t memorize phone numbers.”
“Gen Z? Yes, I am. And the phenomenon is called information overload. We’re expected to cram a lot into our heads.
Memorizing a bunch of pointless numbers is a step too far.
” Was he criticizing her generation or admiring it?
She wanted to make a Boomer joke but did a quick calculation.
Nope, he was Gen X. “You’re aging yourself by mocking younger generations. ”
He reached for her hand lifting it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her fingertips before placing it on the seat between them, his hand still wrapped around hers.
“I’m not bashing you, though it would be better if you did memorize the most important numbers in your life in case you find yourself in an emergency and separated from your phone. ”
“Like now?” she asked sarcastically.
He chuckled, turning the key in the ignition.
“You’re as safe as you can possibly be.” Vehicles moved all around them, surrounding their truck.
One at a time, each vehicle was swallowed up by thick vegetation as they led the procession.
She and Radik stayed in the middle of the pack as they drove into the rainforest.
“Yet you chose to send Ayaan away, citing that it was too dangerous for her to stay.” She stared at him, wondering if she shouldn’t have said anything.
She knew he was touchy when it came to his sister, but he had a soft spot for Saskia making her think she could maybe push his buttons more than others could.
He seemed thoughtful for a moment before saying, “The situation was more nuanced than that. My sister was being pursued by one of my rivals, Chinaka. A vicious, conceited man. I feared for her life.”
Saskia conjured up an image of Ayaan on the Koba estate combat range and shook her head.
“Ayaan is a formidable combat fighter. I think you underestimate what she’s capable of.
” She gripped the dashboard as their vehicle swayed on the uneven dirt road, tree branches scraping against the roof and sides.
Radik’s lips stretched in a tight smile.
“I don’t underestimate my sister at all.
I know what she’s capable of, which is why I know she would have left the compound and hunted Chinaka until she had him cornered.
She would have tried to kill him herself without backup and as much respect as I have for my sister’s combat skills, Chinaka is equally skilled.
If she caught him alone, she would have a chance at killing him, but if he had any of his men with him, it wouldn’t be a fair fight. ”
And Ayaan was impetuous, maybe more than Saskia. She understood now why Radik sent his sister away.
“Have you hunted and killed her attacker?” Saskia asked, knowing he would have tried.
“He has eluded all attempts.” His tone was frustrated.
“I’m unused to being thwarted in such matters, but he has gone to ground.
My sources tell me he’s moved overseas, into South America.
One day I will meet him again and that will be a glorious day.
I can finally present my sister with his head on a platter. ”
Saskia grimaced. “I prefer flowers, if you’re ever thinking of getting me a gift.”
He grinned at her, squeezing her hand. “You’re not bloodthirsty like my sister.”
She thought of her satisfaction as blood dripped down Madison’s face after Saskia headbutted her former bestie for betraying her. “Maybe not as much, but fuck with me and you’ll find out just how bloodthirsty I am.”
“I look forward to fucking around with you.”
The breath caught in her throat and she stared at him, both thrilled by the naughty images his words conjured and frightened by the meaning.
“M-Muhammed, I want to make sure….” Damn it, how did she say this?
“Uh, I mean, can you reassure me you’re not going to…
.” She trailed off, her cheeks heating. She had no problem mouthing off to the warlord, but she hated talking about sex.
His tone was serious, his eyes holding hers captive as he said, “I will never touch you without your permission. I care about you too much to ever subject you to such terror. You have my word.”
Her breath left her in a rush and she nodded, not realizing until now how much she needed to hear that rape was off the table, especially as they got closer to his home, her prison, where she would be completely under his control.
Suddenly the thick vegetation opened to reveal a massive concrete wall with steel gates and a guard tower. She watched, equal parts thrilled and terrified as the gates slid smoothly into the wall. They were massive, like the ones in Jurassic Park, hiding everything behind them.
She stared out the window as the vehicle rolled into the compound, taking in as much of the area as she could. From her vantage point she thought there was a wall stretching around the entire area, but she couldn’t be sure as sections of it were blocked by structures.
“It looks like a regular town,” Saskia murmured, twisting in her seat to look at the dirt roads, the buildings, the people. “How many live here?”
“There are around 400 people residing here. Some are permanent and some are transient and will leave.”
Saskia stared at him, trying to gleam more from his unreadable expression. “This is your home?”
“This is Marifiya.”
Marifiya. Marifiya? Where had she heard that word before? Oh yes, it was Ahmaric for haven. She’d learned Ahmaric knowing it was probably one of Radik’s birth languages. “So you live in the town of Marifiya?”
His lips lifted in a semi-smile. “I am the master of Marifiya.”
She squinted at him. “Like the mayor?”
“More like the founder.”
“You created an entire town?” She was astonished, but not overly surprised. She’d spent years getting to know this enigmatic man and founding a town wasn’t outside his skillset. “When did you start it?”
“Six years ago.”
Radik had met Saskia six years earlier.
She’d done as much digging as a person could to find out about Radik and where he lived, but there wasn’t a lot to find, as he seemed to prefer to keep a low profile.
What she did find was spine-tinglingly scary.
A blood-soaked career as a soldier, followed by an even bloodier sojourn as a professional mercenary, a warlord, a few years as a politician, and finally an early retirement.
Or so he projected to the world, but she suspected he was still very much active.
Though Radik was widely known as a dangerous warlord, most of the locals in areas where he worked revered him, thought of him as more of a Robin Hood figure. Taking on clients based on need, he brought down more than one corrupt government in his time as king of the mercenaries.
She watched him from the corner of her eye, trying to square away what she knew of him with the man she was sitting next to.
Was he a child soldier? A heartless mercenary?
A corrupt politician? A not-so-corrupt politician?
She was curious about him and that curiosity drove her to want to spend more time with him.
The car stopped and Radik unbuckled her seatbelt. “Welcome to my home.”
He helped her from the car, his hand resting on her shoulder as she turned to look up at the house they’d parked in front of. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but the house was both the embodiment of the man standing beside her as well as a complete surprise.
The house itself seemed a contradiction of the warlord.
It was a sprawling two-story, red-painted structure with shutters on each of its many windows, a balcony wrapping around the second floor, and a thatched roof on top.
Flowers flowed over the entire house, lovingly wrapping the building in white, red, and green foliage.
This was not the home she envisioned Radik living in.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
The security measures, however, reflected everything she knew about him.
Saskia’s sharp eyes picked them up where they were hidden in the beautiful house.
The shutters were lined with steel and would likely slam shut during an attack, sealing the occupants in at the press of a button.
She could see hints of steel glinting in the sunlight from beneath the fronds on the roof.
The bright house took on a sinister feeling as Saskia was reminded of the Koba estate, her childhood home and her prison for most of her life. Radik urged her forward, his hand at her back and as she climbed the steps, crossing the threshold into his home. A shiver went down her spine.