SEAL'd Heart

by Alice Ward

  I finally nodded at her. “I can accept that as well if it means I have a chance of finding Seth.”

  Blaire’s face grew tight, but she kept quiet.

  Phil stood to join us. “When are you going?”

  “Tonight, if I can.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know if you can book a ticket this late.”

  I looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not booking a ticket. I’m going to rent a jet.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Fourteen hours and twenty-seven minutes.

  The estimated direct flight time from Chicago, Illinois to Kabul, Afghanistan.

  The jet I booked would be ready by eight p.m. Chicago time. After dropping Starlet at London’s apartment, kissing the dog goodbye and trying not to cry, I took a taxi to the airport. On the way, I wrote an email to my staff informing them I was sick and would be taking a few days off.

  London had tried to stop me, she thought I was crazy to go. But I told her the same thing I told Blaire. If there was even the smallest chance of bringing Seth home in one piece, I had to take it.

  Flying on a private jet meant no waiting in lines. My car took me right onto the tarmac, right up to the boarding stairs. It had all happened so fast; it was surreal when I stepped out onto the concrete and retrieved my two carry-on bags.

  Leave Chicago, get to Kabul.

  The travel agency had set me up with a translator last minute. Thank God they could come through, or this may not have been possible. My translator and unofficial guide, Aarif Bashir, would meet me at the airport at eight p.m., Kabul time. Flying into the country meant slicing through about nine hours.

  One more day gone by.

  One more day without knowing where Seth was or what had happened to him.

  I tried to tell myself I was traveling back in time, buying myself more hours. The lie kept me sane, helped distract me from all the wild thoughts flinging around in my head. I stared out the plane’s window, watching the lights of Chicago disappear.

  I missed Starlet already, craved having her next to me… wondered if I’d ever see her again.

  Or Seth, for that matter.

  Or anyone.

  Suppose I never got to hold Heather’s baby? Or I never saw my parents again? Never told my sister I was the one who framed her for taking money out of dad’s wallet in junior high? I’d let her take the heat for that, and I’d never revealed the truth to her, never apologized.

  All the things I always wanted to do suddenly came tumbling through my head and seemed more important than ever. Because, truth be told, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. And I was scared. I’d never been so far from home before. My vacations to Italy and Ireland seemed laughable. I would be in a totally foreign country, surrounded by languages and a culture I didn’t understand. On top of all that, I would be a young woman traveling close to alone in a Muslim country. I hoped and prayed my translator was someone I could trust. If he screwed me over in any way, I would be done for.

  My loose plan was to go to the village near the camp and ask around. Going to the U.S. and Canadian military outpost would be a waste of time. I’d probably get detained or something just for poking my nose around a military camp. It seemed much more likely that civilians would find it in their hearts to help me. At least I hoped they would.

  Then once I found Seth I would beg him to come home. I would beg him to not go through with his plan for revenge, assuming he hadn’t already. Assuming something bad hadn’t happened to him. I forced my mind away from the emails, and the fact that there had been no more. I refused to consider the worst. There had to be another answer.

  There just had to be.

  I wasn’t going to rest until I found it.

  The jet contained a bed, a small thing with curtains to pull around it. I nestled down into it but kept the curtains open so I could see out the windows. Without windows, I would be sequestered off far away from the world, far away from Seth.

  I didn’t think I would fall asleep, but daylight woke me. I struggled to sit up, feeling groggy and all around not right. Rummaging through my bag, I found a long sleeve cotton shirt and a pair of jeans and pulled them on.

  The jet was over land, the light in the sky rapidly disappearing. It seemed I’d hardly seen any daylight.

  When we came in to land, my breathing came faster and faster. What was I doing? It seemed so crazy, getting on a jet and flying to the other side of the world on the mere hope that I would find Seth there.

  And yet sitting around doing nothing seemed even crazier.

  We landed smoothly on a small runway, the jet parking near the end. I pulled out the scarf I’d brought, wrapped it around my head then grabbed my bags. My aim was to try to blend in without looking like I was trying too hard. I would be going to neighborhoods and asking questions; that alone was extremely suspicious. I needed to look average enough to divert people’s attention.

  I prayed it would work.

  The door to the cockpit opened, the co-pilot coming out to open the exit door for me. He gazed at me with a strange look on his face, perhaps wondering what a woman from Chicago was doing in Kabul all by herself. He said nothing, though, and I took my bags and went down the stairs.

  The heat was like a physical assault hitting me everywhere at once. I was sweating before I made my way through customs, then to the front of the building. I knew absolutely no Pashto or Dari, the two official and most common languages in the country. I couldn’t even read the signs. But I could find my way to the front of the airport. Maybe there would be some translation books for sale there if my translator didn’t show.

  At the entrance to the airport, I waited by a scramble of cars. I’d given the travel agency a description of what I would wear so Aarif Bashir could find me. If he didn’t show up what would I do?

  Going home wasn’t an option.

  I would find someone who spoke English and ask them to direct me to the nearest place where I could hire a guide and translator. I would keep searching until I got what I came for, and I wouldn’t leave till the whole mystery was solved.

  I was a Type-A, I reminded myself. A control freak. A “get it done” kind of girl.

  “Miss Quinn Laurent?” a man said in an accent so thick it took me a second to recognize my own name.

  I whipped around to take in a thin, tall man. His black beard brushed against his long white shirt as he nodded his head to me. “I am Aarif Bashir.”

  I nearly collapsed with relief. “Yes! Thank you! It’s so good to see you.”

  I reached my hand out halfway to shake his hand, but then realized that might not be acceptable and yanked it back. I hadn’t had time to research social customs and norms in Afghanistan. I had no idea if a woman touching a man she wasn’t related to — especially in a public setting — would be all right.

  “Come this way if you do please,” he said, gesturing toward a blue car parked nearby.

  He took my bags and put them in the backseat, and I climbed in after them. Aarif got into the front, started the engine and swerved into traffic.

  “I am yours for the next three days,” he said as he drove.

  “Great!”

  “I can take you to see all the sites people like to.”

  I sat up straighter, holding onto the bar as he hit the gas, taking us away from the airport traffic. “There’s one thing I want to do. Do you know the camp Black Horse? I need to go to a place kind of near there.”

  He pierced me with his dark eyes in the rear-view mirror.

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  It would be pointless to hide the truth from Aarif. Once we got to my destination, he would find out exactly why I was there. If he wouldn’t be willing to get involved in my search by translating, I needed to know right away so I could find someone else to help me.

  “I know of that camp,” he said. “American and Canadian.”

  “Yes. Do you know a village called Tejen? It’s near Black Horse. That’s where I’m goi
ng.”

  This time his eyebrows shot up. “Such a… different, uh, random place for you to be. Am I not right?”

  “You’re right,” I agreed, taking a deep breath and biting the bullet. “I’m looking for my boyfriend. I think he’s there.”

  A long moment passed. “And why is this man there?”

  “I think… I think he’s looking for some people. He wants to find the people who killed his sister.”

  It was a lot of heavy information to give the man at once, but better now than when we were standing in the middle of Tejen.

  Aarif wiped his palm across his mouth, his body posture changing from capable driver to tense. His hand grew tight on the wheel, he shifted in his seat. I was losing him. Of course, I was. No one would want to be involved in a potentially dangerous search for a missing person.

  “I’ll pay you double your rate,” I quickly told him. “And your boss doesn’t have to know. Please… I understand if it’s not worth the risk. If you don’t want to do it, can you please help me find someone who will? I won’t even tell anyone that I let you know what I’m doing here. I just need to find Seth. I need to find him right away.” I choked on the last words.

  Up front, Aarif made a sound I couldn’t read. “I will do it. I understand the pain. I will do it.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered, almost unable to believe it.

  “But tomorrow. We cannot drive to Tejen in the dark. I will take you somewhere to stay.”

  I’d been afraid of this, but at least I had Aarif on my side. “All right. Thank you. Is there a hotel you can take me to?”

  “You can stay in my family’s house.”

  “Oh, no. I can’t. Thank you, but a hotel is great.”

  “No, you stay. You stay with my daughters. All right?”

  I hesitated. Going to the home of a strange man was a big no-no, but I couldn’t risk offending Aarif. If he was lying about his daughters, I would hightail it into the street. Hopefully Aarif was just a regular family man, and hopefully, we would turn into something resembling friends. I needed every bit of his trust I could get.

  Besides, I felt safer knowing the tracker on me would let those back home know my every movement. I had Blaire to thank for that. I sent a message on the satellite phone she gave me too. Neither of these devices would protect me, but at least they could find me, or my body, if something went wrong.

  Aarif took me to his home on the outskirts of Kabul, where, it turned out, he did live with his wife and three daughters. His son, he told me, had married and moved out of the house the year before. His daughters were all much younger than me, somewhere between nine and fourteen.

  Aarif’s wife was gracious. She didn’t speak any English, but she smiled and nodded her head at me, gesturing for me to sit. The whole family and I settled cross-legged on the floor, where we ate a meal with our hands. There was a grain and some kind of meat mixed into balls with spices. I hadn’t realized how ravenous I was, but once I tasted the food, I devoured everything on my dish.

  After the meal, Aarif’s wife showed me the girls’ bedroom. I gestured to the meal area, thinking that it was only polite to offer to help clean up, but again stopped and cursed myself for not having learned more about Afghani manners. In America, it was only right to offer to help your host clean up, in some other places doing so could be downright rude.

  I was exhausted from my flight anyway, and eager to sleep so I could wake and search for Seth in the morning. I settled on the one large bed in the room, Aarif’s daughters whispering and moving about me. In a few minutes, I was out.

  When sunlight woke me, only the youngest girl was still in bed, lying horizontal down at the foot with a blanket draped over her. I rose quickly and grabbed my bags, changed clothes and stuffed my dirty laundry in a side pocket, eager to not waste a minute.

  Aarif’s wife was busy in the living area preparing food. She spoke a few words and gestured in a way that indicated she would like me to sit, but I smiled and waved my hand to signal no. Taking the time for one meal had been enough. It was time to get down to business, even if that meant being rude.

  I found Aarif out front. The family’s house was on a busy street, with homes packed together closely. He was talking with a neighbor, waving his hands wildly as he spoke. I waited for him to notice me, bouncing on my heels in the packed dirt and trying to have patience as I slowly melted in the heat.

  “Are you ready to go on the journey?” Aarif finally asked, walking over to me.

  “Yes, please. That is, if you are.”

  He looked thoughtfully at the car. “I have heard… not so good things are happening in Tejen.”

  My heart nearly folded in on itself. How much more terror and disappointment could it take? “What kind of not so good things?”

  “Men are seen around there all this week. Men with guns.”

  I clutched my bags. Ominous news, yes, but I couldn’t let it stop me.

  Aarif continued. “It is not a safe place right now. That is what you should know, and me as well.”

  I hung my head. I would have to find someone else to take me. Who knew how much time I would waste looking for the right person?

  “I will take you,” Aarif said. “Perhaps it will be a danger. Perhaps we will turn back.”

  I gulped and nodded. He was putting himself in danger to help me. “All right. I understand. Thank you.” It was the one offer on the table. I had no choice but to take it.

  The little blue car took us quickly away from Kabul. Houses became farther and farther apart, and the landscape stretched out in front of us. It was just like the picture Seth had emailed me. I studied the rocks and trees, half believing that by some chance I might recognize the spot Seth photographed. But I didn’t, of course. We drove for a long time, passing houses clustered together, other vehicles, and some people on horseback.

  Eventually, Aarif slowed the car. “We are close.”

  I leaned forward to observe the little town we were coming into. It looked much like the rest of what I’d seen on the road trip from Kabul, quaint and unassuming, with houses lined up together like in any other town.

  Aarif cleared his throat. “I will go place the car at the home of a man I know. I will ask about your Seth.”

  He slowed even more, and we took the dusty main road into Tejen. Taking a right, he stopped the car in front of a home that was more of a hut than a house. Built in a circular fashion, it had one small window and lopsided, rusted metal shingles on the roof.

  I placed my hand on the handle but hesitated, suddenly afraid to leave the vehicle. Everything outside the car’s windows was so different from my home in Chicago, and strangely alien. Suddenly my living room, my bedroom, and even my kitchen seemed excessive. My foyer with the water fountain and the backyard with its pool now seemed ridiculously luxurious and unnecessary. Who the fuck needed a fountain inside their house anyway?

  Aarif got out without a glance at me and went to the hut. A man came to the door, and they stepped into the darkness of the home. I shrank back in my seat, looking all around. Few adults peppered the street, but farther down, half a dozen boys played soccer. The sight comforted me a little. Children were good. They meant I was in a normal community.

  Aarif came back out, and I forced myself to step from the car and into the brutally hot air.

  “Did he tell you anything?” I asked.

  Aarif scratched his beard. “An American was here last week. He was not from the United States Army. He did not tell his name. Instead he wanted to ask questions.”

  I nearly exploded from excitement. “That was Seth! I know it!”

  Aarif looked less than pleased, his face darkening.

  “What is it?”

  “He has been not the only man seen around here. The men with guns I told you have been asking for an American.”

  My heart fluttered. “People are looking for Seth?”

  “Yes, that is what I believe.”

  I balled the ends of my shi
rt in my hands. “Okay...”

  “This is dangerous, Miss Laurent. I cannot take you around here. To ask too many questions is bad.”

  I flicked my eyes back to him and opened my mouth to argue, but then stopped. Aarif had three daughters. What would become of them if something happened to their father? I’d brought myself to this place. I’d accepted any danger I might be bringing upon myself, but I couldn’t ask someone else to do that as well.

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Come back with me to...”

  “No.” I dug my heels into the sandy ground.

  Aarif shook his head aggressively and sliced his hand through the air. “You do not understand.”

  “I do. Trust me, I do. But I can’t go back. I have to know. I have to know where Seth is. I have to find him before something happens to him.”

  “How can you know a bad something has not happened?”

  “I can’t,” I whispered. “But if that’s the case, I need to find out. What if it was your wife?”

  “I would go to my daughters,” he immediately said. “To take care of them.”

  I swallowed the hot ball in my throat. “It’s not like that where I’m from. There’s no one for me to go back to but my dog.”

  “I will go now. You should come.”

  “I can’t.” I shook my head and stepped back.

  Aarif pursed his lips and looked at the ground, nodding at the dirt before he walked to the car. He pulled my two bags out and set them on the ground next to me, then finally looked up at me.

  “Good luck.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered, then dug in my pocket and handed him the money I’d promised.

  He waved his hand through the air, obviously refusing.