The child’s mouth opened, then she smiled. Her pure joy made Aziza eyes smart while her heart hurt. A soft pink and white bear went under Sanita’s other arm. Her teeth gleamed in a delighted grin.
“Let’s go back to our room.”
With her new toys pressed to her chest, Sunita nodded.
In the living room, Aziza and Julene exchanged another hug. Then Aziza and her small companion left for the hotel, which lay a few streets away. The walk was what Aziza needed to clear her head. Being in her old surroundings was a good thing. Now, more than ever, she was sure of what she wanted.
Her footsteps quickened the closer she came to the hotel. She rushed into the elevator and took Sunita’s hand as they walked down the corridor on their floor. Aziza sucked in a deep breath when they entered the suite, then switched on the television and scrolled to Discovery Kids. “You can watch cartoons for five minutes. Then we’ll grab something to eat, okay?”
Sunita gently laid the stuffed toys on the sofa bed. “Lunch.”
Aziza grinned. “Good girl. Yes, we’ll have lunch.”
She unpacked the bag, then dialed Ryan’s number. After their tense ten-minute call, she sent up a prayer of thanks that the missing women and Ryan were safe. Only the girls now remained to be found. Ryan had reassured her the other men were still chasing clues to discover their whereabouts.
She felt like celebrating this victory, and after washing her hands and face, she supervised Sunita in cleaning hers. Then she retrieved the camera from her bag with a wry smile, thinking how addicted she was to technology. For now, she didn’t have a phone but the camera might come in useful. A moment later, they headed downstairs to one of the cafes.
They sat at a table next to a wall of glass, which gave them a view of a golden urn spewing water. She ordered a hamburger and fries, which she shared with Sunita. Aziza had learned that everything was super-sized in Durabia.
The café was nearly empty and after Aziza glanced around them, she pointed to Sunita’s plate. “Do you remember what that is called?”
Holding a fry next to her lips, Sunita nodded. “Hamburger.”
“And what are you holding in your hand?”
“Frenchy fry?”
Aziza held back a grin. “French fry.”
With the utmost care, Sunita repeated her words then bit into the sliver of potato.
Her lips were wrapped around the burger bun when a familiar figure strode down the corridor directly in front of the restaurant. Aziza couldn’t miss Akbar. He had sleek, black hair that he styled and kept in place with mousse, but the feature that set him apart was the tiny stud he wore in one ear. The hotel held the staff to the strictest standards, but somehow he got away with wearing that diamond earring. His black, long-sleeve shirt let her know he was either on duty, or would be soon.
A tall, distinguished man in a suit walked next to him. The two were deep in conversation.
Going on instinct, Aziza snapped a picture of the two of them. She didn’t know how she was going to broach the subject of seeing him with Ryan, but she’d figure that out when the time came.
“What is that, Auntie?”
“I’m taking pictures. It’s a camera,” Aziza said as her gaze swung back to Akbar.
As if he sensed someone watching him, Akbar’s gaze swept the immediate area around him. Then the man with him spoke and they stepped into a cigar store.
Her first reaction was to confront him, but Ryan’s warning held her back. Plus a flash of memory—an image of herself taking unsteady steps to the ladies’ room. His offer to help. Her refusal. Then another man appearing. Although they didn’t speak, she could have sworn they communicated with their eyes. That other man insisted on helping her down the corridor. From there, a blank space developed in her memory. Her next conscious thought came after waking up in that container feeling as if she’d been through a wringer.
She wasn’t certain Akbar had anything to do with selling her out, but her instincts killed her doubts. She distinctly remembered he was friendly with the men behind the bar and her drink was the only way they could have introduced drugs into her system. Proving he was involved in drugging and kidnapping her would be hard. Plus, there was the business of telling Ryan that she’d seen Akbar. He wouldn’t be happy about her being anywhere downstairs. Despite that, she had business to do and was relatively safe in the hotel and its surroundings. But Encounters should also have been safe.
When she faced forward, Sunita was watching her. “Are you okay?”
She had asked Sunita that question so many times in the last twenty-four hours, the child was now using that phrase back to her. Aziza smiled widely and patted her hand. “I’m fine, baby girl.”
But her appetite had left. She now felt threatened, but didn’t want to alarm Sunita. With a smile in place, she said, “Let’s go back to our room.”
They were halfway through the door when Akbar emerged from the shop and stood talking with the same companion.
Sunita tugged on her hand, but Aziza didn’t respond.
Their eyes met, and Akbar’s face twisted. His expression ran the gamut from consternation to horror. Instead of greeting her, he quickened his steps. “Aziza.”
At her side, Sunita pointed toward the man with Akbar. In a shaky voice, she cried, “I know him.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ryan closed his laptop and got up from the desk. He’d expected to find Aziza in the room, but she had disappeared. A look around the bathroom and in the closet told him she’d left under her own steam. Several items were moved out of place, the way she tended to do when she was going out. The question was why she left after promising she’d stay in the suite.
He had finished a brief telephone call with Myles and agreed to a virtual meeting in a few days to include their client in Jamaica. At that time, they would finalize several clauses in the draft contract.
Aziza still hadn’t returned, and he was sliding from anxiety into anger. She had to know he’d be worried if she disappeared for any length of time. Worse, she hadn’t left a note.
He sat on the side of the bed with his head cupped in his hands, fighting to stay alert. The lack of sleep made him drift in and out of consciousness, but he knew the moment Aziza arrived back at the suite. He felt her aura, but something was amiss. He sat up, then stood, poised to deal with whoever had dared to frighten her.
“Hurry! Go into the bedroom and close the door,” she yelled.
What the hell?
He stalked to the closet, opened the safe he’d secured only moments ago, and stepped back into the bedroom.
Sunita barrelled into the suite with tears streaking her cheeks. At the sight of him, she opened her mouth wide, as if to scream, but he put a finger to his lips and pointed to the closet. She followed his direction and dragged it shut.
He rushed toward the door at the same moment Aziza ran inside and tried to shut it. Ryan pulled her out of the way and let the person behind her stumble inside. He grabbed the man by the material of his shirt and pressed the gun to his forehead. “You better have a good explanation for why you’re in my suite and why you’re chasing this woman.”
The man sputtered, then spoke in a wheedling tone. “I wanted to talk to her.”
Aziza darted out from behind Ryan. “You only wanted to speak to me, but you chased us and scared us half to death?”
He grimaced and twisted his body to escape Ryan’s grasp. “If you do not mind, I will leave now.”
Ryan cocked the gun. “That’s not how this works.”
“I am—”
“Say a word or move a muscle if you want to meet your maker.”
Akbar lapsed into silence as both the pupils and the whites of his eyes expanded.
Without looking at Aziza, Ryan said, “My phone is on the bedside table. Get Dro on the line and tell him to come right now.”
She did as he asked while he backed Akbar into the living area.
Ryan pushed him into one of the chair
s at the dining table, pulled out another, and faced him. “You’re going to tell me what business you have with my woman, so think carefully about what you plan to tell me.”
“He’s on the way,” Aziza said, stepping out of the bedroom.
“Thanks. Is Sunita all right?” Ryan’s attention did not stray from the man in front of him.
“She will be, no thanks to him.”
Akbar jerked back and looked at his watch.
“Need to be somewhere?” Ryan asked.
Arms folded, Akbar said, “I am on duty in another hour.”
Ryan’s attention shifted to the logo on his black shirt. “You should have thought of that earlier.”
A knock came at the door, and Aziza went to answer.
Dro greeted her and walked to Ryan’s side. “You’re coming with us,” he said.
“Where are we going?” Akbar asked, breathing hard. “You cannot do this. I am a citizen of Durabia. I have to be at work.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dro said, “You’ll find out shortly. And your citizenship has nothing to do with this matter.”
“But—”
“Resisting won’t help you.” Ryan handed his gun to Dro, then guided Aziza to the bedroom. Over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll only be a minute.”
When they stood just inside the bedroom door, Ryan glanced at Sunita who sat cross-legged on the mattress supporting her cheeks with her fists. He pulled Aziza into a quick hug and murmured in her ear. “I’ll be away for at least a few more hours with what’s his name … Akbar.”
She pulled away to ask, “How did you know?”
“He’s one of the first persons I investigated when I arrived here.”
“Good. For all we know, he’s done this to other women. Where are you taking him?”
Aziza met his steady gaze, then sighed. “I get it. You can’t tell me. Just come back safely.”
“I will.” He kissed her forehead. “For heaven’s sake, don’t go anywhere. And by the way, that discussion isn’t finished. Well, we didn’t have a chance to get started.”
“I won’t leave.” She had the grace to look contrite. “Trust me.”
Ryan cocked one brow, and she smiled. “I really am sorry. I should have listened to you.”
“Yes, you should have.”
He approached the bed and sat a few inches from Sunita, who had salt lines marking the path of her tears. She looked up at him, eyes still wet and her lips pulled down at the corners.
“I’m sorry about everything, but it will be okay. Aziza and I will take care of you.”
“The man with him.” She jabbed her finger at the living area. “I saw him at El Zalaam. He has girls like me.”
“Let me show you.” Aziza left the room and returned with a digital camera, explaining. “I threw it behind the couch when I came in.”
She brought up the picture she’d taken and told him of the men’s movements.
“Mind if I take this?” he asked.
“Of course not, and please ensure you get those girls back. I haven’t forgotten.”
Ryan chuckled and touched her cheek. “Aziza, I love you, I really do, but sometimes I think you’ll be the death of me.”
“I’ll be praying while you’re gone, but you’re tough.” She patted his cheek, wearing a somber expression. “You’ll survive.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple and strode into the living room, where Dro and Akbar stood by the door.
Before they stepped out of the suite, Dro pointed to Akbar. “I explained to our friend here that Sheikh Kamran is part of this operation, in case he decides to make a break for it.”
“I told you I do not know anything of this operation,” Akbar spat through his teeth.
“That’s fine,” Ryan said, “because nobody asked you anything. Yet.”
They took the elevator, swept through the lobby, and declined the valet service. Standing around out front would only give Akbar an opportunity to elude them, if he got the chance.
Dro sat in the back of the black Ford F 150 pickup truck they exchanged with the Limo after the rescue yesterday. Akbar stared outside the entire time on the half-hour journey to the warehouse where Vikkas, Daron, and Bashir waited, after being called en route. Nicco, Hassan, and Rahm would join them if they needed more manpower for what would be their next assignment.
On arrival, they hustled Akbar into the warehouse and gave him a seat.
Ryan brought up the picture Aziza took and sat adjacent to Akbar. “This man, who is he?”
After gazing at the camera with a blank expression, Abkar said, “I do not know him well.”
“That’s not what I asked. Try again.”
The men stood around the metal table waiting for his response. When he didn’t speak, Vikkas planted both hands on the surface. “Let me explain something to you, in case you don’t understand what’s happening. You’re in deep trouble for the part you’ve played in abducting and selling women. It was only a matter of time before we came for you. We will think about not sending you to prison forever if you save us the trouble of having to hunt this man down.”
Akbar studied his hands, then said, “His name is Madhav Hadad.”
Daron picked up a tablet, inputted some information, and turned it to face Vikkas, who winced. His focus turned to Akbar. “What do you and this government official have in common?”
When he didn’t answer, Vikkas continued, “Let me guess. Some of the women you’ve been preying on have passed through his hands.”
Akbar frowned and jammed his fingers through his hair. “I did not say that.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to say anything.”
“What about that break you promised me?” Akbar asked, laying both hands in front of him.
“Consider it withdrawn,” Vikkas said, barely moving his facial muscles, but the fury flowing off him was unmistakable. “I’ve reconsidered.”
“That little girl,” he said with a desperate edge to his voice. “From the container.”
“What about her?” Ryan glared at Akbar.
“I can tell you where the other girls are now. The man who collected them works for Hadad.”
“And how would you know all of these details?” Vikkas said.
“I was with him when he was making the arrangements to transport them.”
His words struck Ryan hard. He still didn’t understand how men bought and sold women and children like cattle when they had lives and families.
Staring into Aziza’s pain-filled eyes although she was miles away, Ryan said, “Where are the children?”
“Inside El Zalaam.”
Dro moved behind Akbar and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. “Your story had better be true. Otherwise, we will have more problems.”
Akbar wriggled in the seat and protested. “But I helped you.”
“And we thank you for that.” Vikkas smiled as he walked to the door. “But you’re still going to jail.”
“This is not right, you said—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dro said on his way to the entrance. “He considered helping you out, but I made no such promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
After an impromptu consultation with Sheikh Kamran at his conference center, he signed a decree that gave them permission to raid El Zalaam.
He looked up from the document and let his gaze skim the men and the sole woman at the multimedia table. “I believe if we are doing a job, it should be done properly. That means every female must also be removed from El Zalaam.”
Hassan and Bashir wore identical expressions—brows raised and mouths slightly open.
“Yes. The time is now,” Sheikh Kamran said. “My wife and I have been waiting for the ideal time to address that situation.”
The Sheikh ran one hand down the front of his gold tunic. “The Nationals and Durabia Tribunal would not hear of it. They swore only women were brought in.”
A ripple of disapproval rose in the room, but the Sheikh
raised one hand, and continued speaking. “I warned them, but they didn’t listen. Owning these women and children is not illegal at this point, but we will be closing El Zalaam.”
“Why not pass it into law, Uncle?” Hassan asked.
The Sheikh scanned the faces of the men at the table. “That is exactly what will happen. At the next tribunal gathering, I will make it clear that we cannot operate as a modern metropolis and have this ugly underbelly that would be considered an atrocity by human rights activists.”
Hassan nodded. “That part of our image does need a makeover.”
“What does this mean for men like Madhav Hadad, who are in government but practice this kind of evil?” Ryan asked. “Surely kidnapping is a crime.”
Sheikh Kamran inclined his head toward Ryan. “Indeed it is, and as long as we have proof … ”
Tapping the glossy surface of the table, Daron said, “If there’s any to be found, we’ll find it.”
“Thank you.”
“I have another question,” Ryan said. “Won’t it be extraordinary to have this decree signed and acted on immediately?”
A steely glint lit the Sheikh’s eyes. “It is the prerogative of the Sheikh to act on any urgent matters in the way he sees fit. I will notify the police, so they can provide a security presence, but they won’t interfere. They will meet you outside El Zalaam.
“My wife and I will put transportation and housing arrangements in place. We will have everything ready and provide support staff by the time you’re finished at El Zalaam. This meeting is at an end. Let me know the minute your mission is complete.”
The group of eight Kings, Knights, plus Nicco and Angela filed out of the multi-story building and gathered around the F 150 truck and a midnight black metallic Toyota Land Cruiser. Rahm and Ryan had been introduced earlier, but didn’t have the opportunity to exchange more than a few words. The tattoo artist didn’t speak much, but had a commanding presence. After a five-minute conversation, the team organized themselves into two parties and drove to the far end of Hanan.
El Zalaam was a tiny city of its own, behind high walls and an ornate metal gate that ensured the privacy of those who took their pleasure within its confines.
Knight of Paradise Island Page 13
