by Linda Conrad
“Press this tightly against my wound while I cut a strip from your dress.” He pulled the big knife out of its holster on his uninjured thigh and sliced the seam of what was left of her dress with precision.
Nikki couldn’t imagine how he could still be clearheaded, what with all the blood loss and the loud sounds and the shaking of the building around them. She forced herself to concentrate on leaning against the gunshot wound with all her might. Shakir winced as she pressed down, but he kept working. Her admiration and respect for his strength kept her from becoming hysterical.
In a few moments, he had a long narrow strip cut from her dress and was tying it around his leg over the wound. “I need a little help,” he said.
She did as he told her and held the scarf compressed in place as he tied down the strip. It was hard to believe he could take the pressure over such a wound.
“Let me put antiseptic on it.” She was terrified that he was dying. But she would do everything in her power to keep him alive.
“No time,” he said as he came to his left knee and attempted to stand. “We have to get out of here now. The whole building should be coming down any minute.”
His foot slid out from under his body and he went down on his good knee with a hard thud. Looking up at her, he grinned with one of those sweet, sensible grins that always made her heart rate speed up.
“Looks like this is as far as I go,” he said with a cough. “Get out of the building. Run up the stairs and then make your way behind the drain pipe. Tarik should still have a chopper there to pick you up.”
She took hold of his arm. “Nonsense. I’m not leaving without you. Lean on me.”
Shakir shook his head. “I’m too heavy. Leave me. Go. Live. Be our son’s mother.”
Tugging on him, she leaned over and adjusted his arm around her shoulders. “Quit griping and come on. We go together or we don’t go at all.”
Nikki saw the moment it registered with him that she meant what she said. A bleak nod replaced the sweet grin. But he did put his weight on the good leg and managed to stand on his one good foot. Once upright, he seemed to catch a second wind and wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders.
“All right, princess. Let’s see how you get me up those stairs.”
She started down the hall slowly, pulling and pushing and cajoling him along. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not a princess anymore. Far from it. But I am the woman who is going to make sure you live through all this. Now save your strength and help me.”
When they’d reached the end of the hall and were almost to the maintenance lobby and the stairs, she turned her head to check on Umar. His body still lay where it fell. If she’d had the chance to, she would’ve gone back to check on whether he was still alive. But as she and Shakir limped around the corner, yet another explosion rocked the floor and the walls started to crumble. The ceiling above the hallway that they’d left collapsed with a mighty eruption of plaster dust. Now she could only hope Umar was already dead.
The lights flickered and went out. She held her breath until emergency lights embedded in the floors came on and illuminated everything in an eerie glow.
“Hurry up,” she begged Shakir, though she imagined her pleas for speed were useless. He was barely limping on his bad leg and she was too weak to take any more of his weight.
They reached the stairwell. But smoke and a fine dust were already rising from the floors below, cloaking the way ahead. Tears suddenly clouded her vision, mixing salty water with dry fear. They were going to die here in this Taj building. She prayed to God that Shakir’s brothers would raise her son and learn to love him as a nephew.
“I thought you wanted to hurry?” Shakir dragged her closer to his body and held her tight just as they reached the first step.
This was an impossible task. She saw that now. How would he ever make it up two flights on one leg? She almost sat down and gave up.
But Shakir reached out with both his hands and grabbed hold of the banister. “Hang on to my belt,” he ordered, fisting his hands tightly around the smooth metal.
She couldn’t imagine what he had in mind but she stepped directly behind him and entwined her fingers around his utility belt. What he did next was nothing short of a miracle. He literally dragged his body up the stairs by using upper arm strength alone—
Well, that and an amazing show of pure determination.
They made it to the ground level, but with only seconds to spare. The stairs below began to sway and cave in.
Shrieking as she jumped off the top stair, she barely gained her footing when that last stair rattled and then crashed into the black abyss. The modern shell of a lobby began crumbling around them, too. Shakir gritted his teeth and lifted her off her feet from his bad side.
“Put me down. This is too hard for you. Let me walk.”
“Quiet. We’re out of time.” Running on what she figured was pure adrenaline, he dragged both her and his bad leg outside into the lavender-and-rose glow of another dawn.
Nikki could hear shouting and gunshots in the distance. But the air was filling with choking red dust and soon she couldn’t see more than five feet ahead.
Shakir seemed to know exactly where he was headed. So she tried to make out the sounds around them as he zigzagged through the haze. The one sound she’d hoped to hear, the noise made by helicopter rotors, was conspicuously missing.
She prayed that her son and the other boys were all safely away from this place. But had Tarik’s men left without her and Shakir?
If they were too late to catch a helicopter ride, she wondered if Shakir could find his way back through the mine shaft tunnel. It wouldn’t be easy to negotiate that space again with his leg, but it was a far better option than standing here and being shot.
As Shakir ducked underneath the timbers holding up the drain, she felt yet another giant rumble as the earth began to sway to and fro. The whole mountain must be coming down and their tunnel would collapse. They were free of the underground building, but they still might not live through this. The entire town of Kuh Friez might not survive.
Suddenly she heard engine sounds above the din. Glancing up, she spotted a black chopper flying down the mountainside, running only fifteen to twenty feet off the ground and following the line of the drain pipe. Whoever was at the controls of that craft was one hell of a pilot.
“There’s Tarik.” Shakir set her on her feet and pulled the earbud and mic from his pack. He used the clicker on his microphone to signal his brother.
Winds swirled and dust rose around her, blowing the scarf off her head and burning her skin, as the chopper hovered directly above them. They were saved.
The chopper flew lower, closer and closer, until she could see Tarik hanging from the door with his arm outstretched, beckoning her to climb aboard.
She turned to Shakir. “You first.”
“Move,” he screamed above the engine noise.
She shook her head. She was not going without him.
He cursed, then reached out with one hand and grabbed her around the waist. Linking arms with Tarik, he let his brother pull him onboard with her dangling by his side.
Before she was completely inside the chopper, she was already letting out a huge sigh of relief. They were going to live. Everything would be all right.
But out of her peripheral vision she saw something striking the side of the chopper near her head. She turned her face to see what had happened while Shakir worked to close the door and drag her fully inside. But as her chin swivelled back, she felt something like the sting of a bee hitting her cheek.
She didn't have time to cry out, because in that instant, everything went black.
Chapter 15
When Nikki managed to pry open her heavy eyelids, she found herself looking up into the eyes of Shakir’s brother Tarik. She knew she was lying flat on her back, and she could hear the drumming of the chopper’s engine. But her head was fuzzy about details.
Disappointed that it wa
s Tarik leaning over her and not Shakir, she fought to focus on what had happened. She remembered the sharp pain and not much else. Next, she tried to sit up but couldn’t. Light-headed and queasy, she could barely raise her head. The pounding pain in her temple felt like someone was driving a sharp poker into her skull.
“You’re going to be okay,” Tarik told her above the engine noise as he moved something beside her head. “Lie still. You’ve been shot and you may be going into shock.”
“William?”
Tarik’s mouth actually came up in a half smile. “He’s fine. Safe. So are the other boys. He’ll be at the hospital when you arrive.”
“Shakir?”
A gray shadow passed in front of Tarik’s face, and Nikki’s stomach rolled again. “Is he alive?”
“So far.” Another voice, still not Shakir’s, came from right beside her.
She worked hard and finally turned her head enough to look in that direction. Shakir was lying on his back not three feet away and another man was frantically working over him. There were plastic tubes strung up and attached to his arm and liquids were dripping into his veins.
“Shakir!”
“He’s out, ma’am. I’m afraid he can’t hear you.”
“But he will live.” He had to live. He couldn’t leave her and William again.
The man working over Shakir didn’t say a word. She turned back to Tarik. “He will live, won’t he?”
“It depends. It’s possible.”
Shakir? No! He couldn’t die after saving her life and the life of her son. She hadn’t yet told him she loved him. She hadn’t even had the chance to ask her questions and say that she wanted them to make a new life as a family.
Nikki used every bit of her strength to stretch out her arm and take Shakir’s hand. Her stomach roiled with the effort and her eyes blurred. But she fought to stay conscious.
“Shakir.” Her hoarse voice could barely be heard. “Shakir, listen to me. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And William loves you, too. Don’t leave us. We need you.”
A yellow haze obscured her gaze for a moment. When her eyes cleared, she could swear Shakir was watching her out of his half-closed eyes.
“Fight this, Shakir. Live. Don’t give up now that we’ve made it.”
She had to swallow down the bile as it threatened to choke her. “I want us to be a family. Your son needs you.” The tears began streaming down her cheeks. “I need you. I don’t want to go on without you.”
Shakir’s mouth opened and he mumbled something that she couldn’t understand. But she knew he was hearing her voice.
“Please, darling,” she croaked. “Please don’t leave me. Not again. I can’t… I can’t…”
“No good… Forget me…”
Were those real words? Had he really told her to forget him? Now when she’d found him again and he had saved them all? Impossible.
She opened her mouth to plead, but nothing came out. Fighting for words— Fighting for his life— She squirmed, trying to get closer.
“Nikki, settle down. You’ll hurt yourself.” Tarik’s voice captured her attention for the moment and she tilted her head toward him.
But when she turned, the spike that had been driving into her temple suddenly detonated like one of Tarik’s explosions. Blinding pain took her breath as the whole world began receding into the foggy, foggy background.
She struggled to stay conscious. To stay with Shakir. But she was too weak. Too helpless. Ultimately, her body shut down.
Shakir forced his eyes open against monumental pain. The last thing he remembered was Nikki’s voice begging him to stay alive. He must be still alive, because dead would never hurt this much.
But was she all right? And William?
A son. He had a son. The idea still astounded him.
When his eyes finally cleared enough for him to look at objects nearby, he expected to find Nikki again. Instead, he was clearly in some kind of hospital. He knew the signs. Wires were sticking into various parts of his body and a machine beeped periodically somewhere near his head.
He groaned and tried to open his mouth. Nothing happened. Closing his eyes again, he drifted off.
When Shakir next opened his eyes, he was in the same room. But this time Tarik was sitting beside his bed.
Shakir tried to speak but coughed instead.
Tarik looked up and then jumped to his feet. “You’re awake. Good to see you.”
“Thirsty…” His voice broke and rasped like steel wool on rusty metal.
Tarik turned to someone else and suddenly a nurse was there holding out a straw. “Here you are, sir. Go slowly. But this should help.”
Shakir drained the straw of its cool, soothing liquid. Then he tried again. “Thank you…”
“I’ll leave the water beside your bed. If you want more, just ask.”
“Tarik.”
“Yeah, bro. I’m here.”
“Is Nikki…?”
“Very much alive and getting healthier every day. She’s in the hospital, but the doctors think she’ll be able to leave by tomorrow or the next day. Your son is okay, too. At least physically. Darin and Rylie are taking care of all the boys back at the family’s temporary compound in the Mediterranean islands until we can sort out where they belong.”
“Where are we?” His head was still spinning and nothing seemed right.
“A Turkish hospital. It was closest place to Zabbarán. But you and Nikki have been getting the best care possible.”
“How long have I been here?”
“A week. You were in pretty bad shape when we brought you in.”
“So I’m going to live?”
“You’re too frigging tough to die, brother. But I’m afraid you are in for a long siege. Rounds of operations and then months of rehab. Still, the doctors are fairly certain you will keep the leg. That was one hell of a good field doctoring job you did on yourself.”
He was alive and it looked like he was going to stay that way. Not quite sure how he felt about that yet, Shakir made a sincere effort to remain clearheaded and in the moment. There were things he needed to say.
“Remember your promise? You said you would take care of Nikki and William for me. Does that still hold?”
Tarik looked confused. “Of course. The whole family will pitch in and watch out for them until you are well enough to do it yourself. They ask for you all the time.”
Shakir swallowed hard and fought his weak voice. “I need more of your help. Much more. I want them to have everything I own. Have Darin set it up. And I want you to tell Nikki I loved her, but that I didn’t make it.”
“What? You want me to lie and say you died? You must be delirious. I’m not lying to her about anything.”
“Do you care about me?”
Tarik’s eyes became hard and his lips curled. “Don’t be an ass.”
“If you really care about being a good brother like the man I know you are, the same way I care about you, then marry Nikki. Give my son a father. Make him a Kadir.”
“Now I know you’re delirious. Or just plain insane. Did you hit your head during that rescue?”
“I’m dead serious, Tarik.” He was desperate for his brother to understand. “I’m no good for them. They need a decent man who will protect them and cherish them the way they deserve.”
“Nikki needs the man who loves her. She needs you, you idiot.” Tarik ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know who you think you are, but she knows. She knows you’re the man who saved her and her son’s lives. She knows you would never hurt them deliberately and…she loves you.
“That makes you the right man for the job. Not me.”
Frustrated and suddenly in a lot more pain, Shakir couldn’t think of any argument that would persuade Tarik. He opened his mouth, but only a groan came out.
“No brother of mine is this much of a coward,” Tarik began again, obviously suppressing his anger. “I’ll have Darin start on the transfer of property. I a
gree that might be a good idea in case of any further danger. And I’ll put Nikki off for a while by telling her you can’t have visitors. But you are responsible for all the rest. For telling her yourself what you want her to know.”
“But…”
“That’s my only offer. Take it or leave it.”
Nikki stood gazing out her kitchen window at the little boys playing in her garden high above the ocean. It was a lovely fall afternoon on the Mediterranean, with the sun shining and a few high cirrus clouds drifting over the cerulean sky. But to her, it was only another in a long line of gray days.
Four months of drab, dull days in fact since she’d last seen Shakir in that helicopter. Every time she thought of those last moments and the intervening months it made her sigh.
He’d refused to see her. For four long, gruelling months, he would not let her visit. Either at his hospital bedside or during his months of rehabilitation. His brothers kept her up with news on how his health was progressing. And they swore they’d delivered all her messages.
Shakir was, as she knew all along, a good man who would honor his responsibilities. He’d asked his family to watch out for her and William, to keep them safe and away from the danger of the Taj Zabbar. And he’d gifted her and their son with all his property and money, including this wonderful two-story home on the Mediterranean coast.
She’d tried to respect his wishes and had accepted his gifts in the name of her son. But Nikki was ready to track Shakir down and make him face her and the son they had made together. If he didn’t want them, didn’t want the family he had waiting, then he would have to tell her so to her face.
She was certainly ready to give him a few choice words. She and William didn’t want Shakir’s property without having him, too. The one thing they needed most was Shakir.
Wiping away her tears of frustration, she looked in the distance at the green-and-blue sea and then focused in on the boys kicking the football on the lawn. At one boy in particular. The tallest boy, even though he was not the oldest, was the one with thick dark brown hair and gray-blue eyes. The light of her life.
William was much stronger than she was. He had lived through his weeks in captivity with a rare few side effects. She’d taken him to a psychologist for treatment, but at this point he seemed to need nothing more than love. He amazed her everyday with his balance and quiet strength.
