by Louise Dawn
There was still heartache. Lizzy refused to reply to any of her emails or phone calls, but Abby wouldn’t give up. Gabe still needed therapy, both of them suffered from nightmares, which would eventually lessen with time. On the plus side, Noleen arrived in less than a month to spend time with her godson, while applying for a transfer to the South African Embassy in California. With luck on their side, Gabriel’s other mommy could be just a short flight away. Abby couldn’t wait to see the woman who’d become like a sister to her.
Abby ladled meaty stew over the bowls of steaming rice. A shout from the living room had her glancing up. The men were gathered around a game Max had brought home, a noisy game of Feed the Frog. Noah was in the lead, competing to feed the most flies to a moving frog. Max helped Gabe to gobble a bug and they shrieked with laughter. Abby’s life had come full circle, back to the lively home of her youth. Granny Lucy would be awfully proud of the merry scene and if Josephine Abigail Evans had her way, this would be the new norm.
Truly beached, no longer battered by endless storms. Her new life had grown strong-ass roots, watered by love and warmed by healing laughter. “Dinner’s up!” she yelled. “Move those butts! And the last one to the table gets the smallest slice of carrot cake.”
The End
Make sure to pick up “Stain on the Earth,” the next installment of the Mobile Intelligence Series. Find out what happens in Johnny and Lizzy’s story!
Stain on the Earth (MIT Book#2) is available for pre-order here: https://www.louisedawnauthor.com/books/
Peshawar, Pakistan
Lizette Steyn disengaged the slide, pulled up the door handle and swung the aircraft door outward. Frigid air swept in and she barely repressed a shiver. “Freezing fudge buckets,” she muttered before greeting the ground agent at the top of the stairs. The miserable structure that was Bacha Khan International Airport looked archaic—with all the developing nations Lizzy had visited in the past five months—that was saying a lot. Peshawar, the wild west town of Pakistan, felt as cold as a dead man’s nose.
“Well isn’t that just grand,” Brianna muttered, stepping out of the wind. “All I bloody packed was a vest and a T-shirt.”
Lizzy refrained from rolling her eyes. The other two Cabin Attendants had as much sense as two rolling hamsters. Brianna, a hardy Irish girl who started flying for JetHaven around the same time as Lizzy, was a workhorse in the Cabin but loved to go on partying benders the minute they arrived at the hotel. Then there was Suzie. This was Lizzy’s first flight with the high-maintenance Capetonian. Thanks to her lax attitude onboard, Lizzy and Brianna worked their asses off. She didn’t mind. Suzie was still new to the job, although Lizzy doubted she’d last out the month.
Had she ever been that juvenile? The last six months affected her in so many ways. Lizzy now felt like a mother hen, especially with Tweedledee and Tweedledum whining behind her.
“How hectic is this weather! Aren’t we supposed to be in the Middle East? It’s a desert.”
Lizzy turned to Suzie. “You’ll need to get into the habit of researching weather conditions on future flights. Early March is barely spring in Peshawar. It snows in Afghanistan in the winter and we’re east of the border.”
Suzie rubbed her goosey arms. “But we’re nowhere near Afghanistan!”
“Hun, where do you think Peshawar is situated?”
“Um. Somewhere in Asia?”
Lizzy gave up on the conversation and readied herself to greet their disembarking passengers. They carried a smaller contingent than they were normally used to, thus utilizing a smaller Airbus—The A318 Elite.
The six male passengers looked somber as they gathered their sparse belongings. Definitely a team from an American three letter agency, Lizzy thought. Possibly CIA, FBI or NSA. Throughout the flight the hardened men had kept to themselves, shut in the boardroom at the front of the aircraft, only pausing for the breakfast service. Lizzy worked on a number of clandestine flights that flew into high risk regions. She’d also ferried diplomats and their families, military personnel and news correspondents. After some gruff thanks at the door, the men drove away in a black Hilux into the early morning light.
The crew bus pulled up and Lizzy covered her hair with a scarf before teetering down the wet stairs and dragging her trolley bag to a seat. She was the first onboard the musty coach and settled her tired ass on a window seat in the middle of the bus. Brianna popped up through the door. “We have a twenty-four-hour layover. I’m heading into town after I’ve cleaned up. I hear the Khyber Bazaar has the best Persian rugs. On her last flight to Peshawar, Jane got a fierce Pakistani Persian that is fucking unbelievable.”
Jane, a fellow crew member, was an interior designer wannabe. Indigenous knick-knacks drowned out her Kenyan apartment, and it smelt like a damn Brazilian rainforest. Lizzy had no inclination to replicate the “jungle-style Zen” that Jane strove to create.
“Sweet cheeks, you should know better than to venture into Peshawar on your own. There are travel warnings in place for good reason. I’m going to hibernate in my room, order room service and watch the first Bollywood movie that I come across.”
“Oh, come on,” Brianna said as she tossed her suitcase onto a seat. “That hotel isn’t even a two-star, never mind a three-star. The last time I stayed in Peshawar, I thought one of those stinky ass street donkeys wandered into my room, and then figured out it was just a fucking cockroach the size of a damn stallion. You really wanna spend your afternoon in a cockroach motel? Plus, you know what Captain Stuart is like, he’ll be knocking on your door in no time trying to drag you down to the bar for a virgin martini.”
Brianna had a point.
“Besides, Suzie is coming along. It’s her first layover and the girl needs to live a little. It’s not like we’re going out on the lash! It’s a dry town. Hell, not even the hotel has a mini bar!”
“Tell me about it, doll,” Suzie grumbled as she swung herself across from Lizzy. “I need a tall glass of Chardonnay, like ASAP.”
Yip. Good luck with that. Lizzy swiped lip balm over dry lips. “Just chill, you’ll be back in Nairobi by tomorrow night.”
“Thank fuck!” Suzie sighed. “A white wine followed by a macchiato. At least Kenya has stunning coffee.”
Kenya was the base of operations for JetHaven and all the flight crew lived in Nairobi. The private security contractor provided specialized and tailored services to accommodate VIP, diplomatic and crisis flights across Africa and the Middle East.
The bus driver’s brief glance reflected disdain at the girls’ antics.
I feel you, buddy. Lizzy thought as they waited for the cockpit crew to disembark. She felt herself caving in to the whims of dee and dum. Apparently, there was a fabric bazaar near the Khyber area. Lizzy could grab some pretty materials and keep an eye on the girls at the same time. First, they’d need scarves and a cover up.
◊ ◊ ◊
The rickshaw dropped them off in Clock Tower Square. Brianna scurried into the first rug stall and the other girls followed. The locals seemed friendly and the store owner immediately offered them a traditional green tea. Lizzy loved the sweet tea native to Pakistan and she gladly accepted. Suzie turned her nose up and Lizzy quickly drank it to ease her companion’s faux pas. Lizzy brought her digital Canon along and snapped photos along the way. The expensive camera was a gift from her father on her last birthday and she loved it, thinking maybe someday she’d write a travel book.
The narrow streets crammed with wares were an overload on the senses. Donkeys clattered amongst bearded men in turbans selling their textiles. A Pakol hat maker tried to sell her a hat as she dodged a moped bike. The decaying Sikh architecture littering the gray and brown streets were fascinating. Unstable wooden buildings stacked together in grimy colors. Wires, phone lines and old Bollywood signs hung from above. She snapped away.
Brianna couldn’t find the right rug for her apartment back in Kenya and the day wore on. After they’d left the third bazaar, Lizzy put h
er foot down.
“Sadar Road!” she yelled at a driver as they climbed in yet another taxi.
“Apparently they have the best Kebabs and Fried Fish. I’m not doing this without food in my stomach, plus I need to buy some fabric, so your Persian rugs need to wait.”
“I could eat a reverend mother,” Brianna said. “Lead the way. We’ll rest our asses while you buy your materials and shit.”
Lizzy left the girls at the café and bought a mix of bright fabrics in the square. She returned to Suzie giggling at something Brianna said.
“Asses up. We need to finish this gig. I’m running out of steam and need a hot shower.”
Brianna pulled a face. “We’re checking out that donkey.”
Lizzy turned to see a mule with its front hooves flailing in the air. The overloaded cart strapped to its tiny frame pulled the poor beast off its feet. Lizzy’s heart clenched at the cruel sight, and she turned away.
Brianna lurched to the side, her phone swaying erratically. “I need to snap a photo.” Suzie guffawed with laughter.
Something was definitely up. The girls were acting sillier than usual. Suzie swayed as they got up. They linked hands and stumbled ahead of Lizzy. Brianna dragged Suzie’s scarf off her head before trying to strangle her with it. Where they drunk? Or high?
“I’m too racked to look at anything else,” Brianna yelled over her shoulder. “Let’s head back to cockroach city.”
They lurched into a shadowed alley and Lizzy ran to catch up. “What’s going on?” She grabbed Brianna’s arm. “You’re acting crazy.”
“And you’re acting like a Muppet. What’s wrong with a bit of fun?”
Lizzy smelt alcohol. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Relax, we smuggled a few minis off the plane. We’ve even saved some for you!”
Brianna opened her satchel. At least twenty unopened bottles rolled around inside.
“Are you freaking crazy!” Lizzy’s screech met their disappearing backs as Suzie dragged Brianna down the alley. If the local police found alcohol on their person, it could mean imprisonment, there would be zero leniency for westerners. Respecting laws in other countries was essential to the job.
“Don’t be a party pooper. This looks like a shortcut to the taxi rank. Beat you there!”
This wasn’t good. Lizzy hesitated. Then she ran down the empty alley to catch up. Rounding a corner, she came up empty. The girls were gone. She should leave their stupid asses and head back to the hotel. A distant giggle led her up a hill. The roads were quieter on the back end of the bazaar. A shrouded woman watched from a doorway before shaking her head. A couple of kids paused to stare as she hurried past. Lizzy rushed past a fenced hedge, an iron gate leading to manicured gardens hung open. Brianna’s shriek came from behind the hedge. Stepping into the private park, Lizzy called out to the women in a whispered shout. When no-one answered, she made her way off the path towards a rustling thicket.
“BOO!” Suzie jumped out, staggering sideways in a fit of giggles.
“Son of a bucket!” Lizzy stumbled back. “Where’s your silly sidekick?”
“Trying to untangle my scarf. It got caught up in a rose bush.”
“For Pete’s sake, lead the damn way.”
Rounding a tree, Lizzy looked up and slowed. A towering mosque stood centered in the gardens, gleaming in the midday sun. Arabic yelling had her glancing back down and she slammed to a stop. A group of men surrounded Brianna as she held the scarf to her chest. Her handbag lay on the ground, glass bottles lay strewn across the grass. One of the men grabbed Brianna's sleeve and Lizzy leapt into the fray. “Leave the bag. Let’s move.”
The angry crowd quickly doubled in size and men screamed in Arabic. The horde shoved the two girls amongst them. Someone grabbed Lizzy’s hair, she screamed in terror. Bruising hands tried to tear them apart and Lizzy hung onto Brianna like a leech. If they were separated, they were done for.
Her screams were met by a slap to the face, as the growing swarm of men shoved her to the ground. Panicked regret turned to what could’ve been, as an image of John came to mind, then dissipated amongst the rabid shouts of violent men.
Stain on the Earth (MIT Book#2) is available for pre-order here: https://www.louisedawnauthor.com/books/
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Acknowledgments
Siren in the Wind will always have a special place in my heart. I lived with Abigail and Max for a long time before putting them down on paper. This book fought for visibility through my immigration adventures, saying goodbye to loved ones, settling in a new country and starting a life with new friends. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. Thanks to my wonderful family for always being my rock through the good times and the bad. My loyal friends and beta readers—Jenn, Summer, Jolene—You girls rock! Randy and the two Dereks—you know who you are—thanks for the informative conversations and for answering my endless questions. Any mistakes we’ll blame on artistic license … Lastly, thanks to my editors, Deborah Nemeth and Joan Turner at JRT Editing. I worship at your feet. My cover artist—Syd Gill—is damn amazing and I can’t wait to see what she does with the rest of the series.
About the Author
Louise Dawn writes heart pounding romantic suspense. She’s also a corporate trainer in Utah. Louise loves travelling and has lived in many countries before choosing the States as her home. Her passion is reading and writing fast paced stories simmering in romance. If you enjoyed this book, consider leaving a review. It’s appreciated by authors both new and established.
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