“Yes, please.” Adriana walked over, glancing at the dining table as she passed. She wrapped her arms around John from behind and nuzzled her lips into his neck. John turned his head, and they kissed.
“Tough day?”
“No, no, just a long one.” She continued to watch him over his shoulder, her arms still around him as he filled a copa glass with ice, then sliced an orange, slipping the orange wheel down the side of the glass before adding a generous serving of Botanist and topping it off with tonic.
“Here you go.”
Loosening her arms, she took the glass, then a long sip, swallowing with satisfaction.
“Lovely, thank you.” She placed a hand on his back, between the shoulder blades as John prepared a drink for himself.
“Something smells nice. What’s for dinner?”
John turned and smiled. He held up his glass and clinked it against Adriana’s.
“You’ll see.” He took a sip and licked his lips. “That’s a damn good gin and tonic, even if I say so myself.”
“It is.” Adriana took another sip and moved away from the bar. “How was your day?”
“The usual.” John shrugged. “Nothing exciting.”
Adriana studied his face for a moment, gave a slight frown, then moved to the sofa and sat down. Slumping back in the chair, she rested her feet on the coffee table while John sat at the opposite end of the sofa. They remained in silence for a while, both content in each other’s company, sipping their drinks and gazing out over the city as Adriana wound down from the tensions of the day.
John waited until Adriana had almost finished her drink before breaking the silence.
“Steve called today.”
“Really? How is he? Still in Dubai?”
“Yes. He’s good.”
Adriana watched John stare at his drink, waiting for him to continue. She frowned.
“Something is wrong.”
John’s head jerked up, and he looked at Adriana in surprise.
“Yes. How did you know?”
Adriana gave a half-smile. “I know you well enough now, Mr. Hayes. What’s the matter?”
John placed his drink down and turned, so he was facing Adriana, one knee on the sofa, his arm across the backrest. He looked down at the sofa, paused, then looked directly into her eyes.
“He needs my help. I have to go to Dubai.”
5
Naeem Emwazi adjusted the AKM Assault rifle on its sling, so it hung down his back and climbed the narrow stairway to the first floor. He was tired, and each step was an effort. He had been awake for three days and badly needed sleep and food, but the single piece of flatbread he had folded in half and stuffed into the thigh pocket of his combat cargos was not for him.
Reaching the top of the stairs, he stepped over a pile of bricks and entered the dusty, rubble-strewn room. Light from the setting sun angled through the hole, where there had once been a window, and fell on what looked like a heap of cloth in the corner.
“Mahfuza,” Naeem called softly.
The heap shifted with a start and took shape—a young woman, her face hidden by a black hijab, a blanket wrapped around her body, and in her arms another bundle.
Naeem stepped closer and knelt beside her. He reached out a hand, and with grime stained fingers, gently moved the blanket away to see the bundle below.
“Malak,” he murmured. There was no response from the tiny girl. Her eyes remained closed, not a sound from her lips. He felt her forehead and sat back on his heels. “She’s hot.”
The girl’s mother, Naeem’s wife, nodded and pulled the baby closer.
Naeem lifted the flap of his pocket and removed the bread. He passed it over to Mahfuza, who snatched it with her spare hand and tore off a chunk with her teeth. She chewed hurriedly, swallowed before it was completely chewed, and took another bite. Halfway through the mouthful, she stopped chewing and asked, “Water?”
Naeem nodded and unscrewed the top of a battered plastic bottle and held it to her mouth so she could take a drink, taking it away after a couple of mouthfuls.
“Careful, it’s all I have.”
Mahfuza sat up and adjusted her back against the wall. She laid Malak on her lap and tore off a small piece of bread.
“Malak, baby, wake up,” she whispered. Holding the bread near Malak’s lips, she repeated, “Wake up, my darling. We have some food. Wake up.”
There was no response. Mahfuza looked up at Naeem and shook her head.
“Let me try.” Naeem moved closer, took the bread from Mahfuza’s hands, and whispered to his daughter, “Malak, Daddy’s home. Wake up, my baby.” Again, the child didn’t stir. Naeem dropped the bread in Mahfuza’s lap and rubbed his face in frustration.
“Any news?” Mahfuza asked, a look of hope on her face.
Naeem shook his head. “Maybe tomorrow.” He placed his hand on Mahfuza’s leg. “Rest now, I’ll try again in the morning.”
He shifted sideways, unslung his weapon, and laid it on the floor beside him, then using his arm for a pillow, stretched out on the floor beside Mahfuza. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.
6
John and Adriana walked into the arrival hall of Dubai’s Terminal Three and immediately spotted Steve’s familiar figure in the crowd, his hand raised high in the air in greeting.
He wrapped his arms around Adriana in a bear hug, winking over her shoulder at John.
“Welcome to Dubai.”
“Hi, Steve, good to see you again,” Adriana gasped, struggling for air.
Steve released her and held her at arm’s length, “You’re looking as beautiful as ever.” He nodded toward John. “This guy looking after you properly?”
Adriana chuckled. “He is.”
“Good.” Steve let go of her and reached out for John’s hand. “Alright, mate?” He pulled John closer and turned the handshake into a hug, slapping John on his back with his free hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s the least I could do, Steve. You are looking well.”
Steve smiled and ran his hand down over his stomach. “Lost some weight, too.”
“Yes, I was going to say. You are looking fitter and younger. Turned over a new leaf?”
“Ha, you’ll see.” Steve looked down at the two cabin bags they had brought with them. “This is it?”
“Yes, we travel light, and Adriana is only here for the weekend.”
“Oh.” Steve looked over at Adriana.
“Yes, Steve.” Adriana nodded. “I have to be back on Tuesday. I couldn’t get more time off.”
Steve reached for the handle of her cabin bag and pulled it toward him. “Well, there’s no time to waste then. Follow me.”
Steve led them out of the terminal, through the parking building, and stopped beside a sparkling white Mitsubishi Pajero. Stowing their bags in the back, they climbed in together, John in the front, Adriana behind.
“You’re staying with me. It’s about thirty minutes from here.”
“Are you sure it’s okay? We’re happy to stay in a hotel.”
Steve looked at Adriana in the rear-view mirror as he replied, “Nonsense, when you’re in Dubai, you stay with me.”
Adriana smiled and settled back into her seat as Steve pulled out of the parking building and joined the flow of traffic. He took the E311 and settled into a steady cruise in the middle lane, heading southeast across the city.
John gazed out the window at the skyscrapers and cranes filling the skyline.
“Every time I come here, there seem to be more buildings. Construction never seems to stop.”
“Yeah, mate, no shortage of money flowing into this place, not all of it clean. Every con-man, arms dealer, corrupt politician, dictator, and drug baron in the world has their money passing through this place.”
John gave a half-smile. “Plenty to keep you busy then.”
“For sure.”
John turned to face Steve. “So, tell me more about this girl? You’ve been pretty vague
so far.”
Steve’s eyes flicked to the rear mirror.
“He’s told me, Steve,” Adriana spoke up.
“Okay.” Steve frowned, glanced in his side mirror, then indicated and moved into the next lane to avoid a slow-moving van.
“You said the girl is a relative? She’s in trouble?”
“My niece, yes.”
“Niece?”
“My older brother’s daughter.” Steve sighed, “Let’s discuss it when we get home. It’s complicated.”
John nodded and turned his attention back to the passing landscape, a slight frown creasing his forehead. Steve wasn’t giving the whole story, which worried him a little, but he owed Steve. The man had saved his life, and John would do anything to repay the debt. If that meant helping him out with a niece in trouble, so be it. Besides, he needed something to do.
7
After twenty-five minutes, Steve took an exit ramp as it looped around on itself in a massive circular interchange and joined a smaller road crossing over the highway. Large patches of sand interspersed with Industrial buildings lined each side of the road, and the traffic had reduced significantly. They followed the road for another fourteen kilometers until the sand and industrial buildings gave way to houses and trees.
Steve slowed for a speed-bump before turning left into the entrance of a tree-filled residential area. He paused while they raised the barrier, flicked a lazy wave at the security guard, then drove in. He took a right and followed the road as it curved past rows of palatial villas and lanes with names like Hibiscus Way and Poppy Lane. Unlike the surrounding area, it was lush and green, the road lined with trees, and the gardens filled with flowering plants and foliage. A pair of bright green parrots flew across the road in front of them, and a ring-necked dove stared back at them from a well-manicured lawn.
“I didn’t expect to see this in the middle of the desert.”
“It’s cool, right? When they built this, there was nothing here. Every plant was brought in, and now it’s filled with birds and squirrels. Nature is incredible.”
“It is, despite our attempts to destroy it.”
Steve slowed and pulled into the drive of a large white villa. A blue Mercedes convertible was parked in front of the double garage door.
“Home sweet home,” he announced and switched off the engine.
“Nice. I thought you lived in an apartment, Steve?” John smiled. “The private eye business is obviously treating you well.”
“I did. I haven’t been here long.” Steve grinned. “But there have been some changes in my life, which meant my bachelor pad was no longer suitable.”
John raised an eyebrow, “You mean...”
A movement caught John’s eye, and he looked toward the front door as it opened.
“Ha! You old devil!” John shook his head, opened the door, and strode across the drive. He paused in front of the lady standing in front of him, then with a big grin, stepped forward and gave her a hug.
“I can’t believe it.” He stepped back and shook his head. Turning, he looked back at a very happy Steve and a puzzled Adriana.
“Adriana, this is Maadhavi.”
Maadhavi stepped forward and took Adriana by the hand.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you, at last, Adriana.” She winked at John. “William here told me a lot about you.”
“William?”
Maadhavi laughed and turned to John. “You didn’t tell her?” Turning back to Adriana, she said, “When I met John in India, he told me his name was William.”
Adriana raised an eyebrow at John. “Really?”
Maadhavi laughed. “Come, we have a lot to talk about.”
The two men watched them enter the house, then John turned to Steve.
“I’m thrilled for you, Steve.” Then he shook his head. “But what she sees in you, I don’t know.”
“Ha. No-one can resist my charm, mate.” Steve slapped John on the back. “Let’s take the bags in and have some lunch. I’m starving.”
8
They enjoyed a leisurely lunch while Maadhavi explained how John had rescued her from the clutches of Surya Patil and helped her escape to Dubai to start a fresh life and rekindle her film career.
“I owe it all to you, John. Without you, I would still be stuck there in Bangalore,”—she gulped and looked down at the table—“living as the kept woman of that horrible man.”
Adriana reached across the table and took Maadhavi’s hand. They smiled at each other, although Maadhavi’s eyes were moist.
“When did you find out my name wasn’t William?” John glanced over at Adriana. “I wanted her to have plausible deniability if it all went wrong.”
“Well, it didn’t.” Maadhavi smiled. “Google.”
“Google?” Adriana asked.
“Yes, I Googled the news reports about the attack on...” She glanced at John.
“Charlotte.” John shrugged. “It’s okay.” He smiled at Adriana but didn’t say more. It was a few years ago, but the memories of the brutal attack on his late wife, Charlotte, by Surya Patil’s son in Bangalore, were still raw. He preferred not to dwell in the past, though. It never helped. He had done too many things he preferred to forget. He didn’t even like to look too far into the future. Life rarely turned out as planned. The present was all that mattered, and right now, he had the woman he loved sitting next to him. He slid his hand onto Adriana’s lap and gave her thigh a squeeze.
“More wine, anyone?” Steve broke the uncomfortable silence. He reached for the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc resting in the ice bucket. “Much as I don’t like to admit it, those ‘sheep shaggin’ Kiwis know how to make wine.”
“Steve,” Maadhavi admonished him.
Steve gave a guilty grin at John, then topped up the glasses before upending the empty bottle in the bucket. He looked over his shoulder toward the kitchen,
“Marisel?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Can you bring another bottle of the white wine from the fridge, please?” He turned back to the table and picked up his glass. “Here’s to friendship,”—he smiled at Maadhavi—“love, and superb wine.”
A chorus of cheers went around the table as Marisel, the Filipina housekeeper, placed a fresh bottle of wine in the ice bucket.
Adriana sipped her wine, then asked, “Maadhavi, you didn’t explain how you met Steve.”
“Yes, how did you two meet?” John asked. “Which part of discrete surveillance didn’t you understand?” He turned to Adriana. “When Maadhavi fled Bangalore, I asked Steve to keep a discrete,” he emphasized the word while looking meaningfully in Steve’s direction, “watch over her.”
“Well,” Steve chuckled. “I rarely get to follow a beautiful Indian film actress around. You should see some of the ugly mugs I have to follow.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“It wasn’t all his fault,” Maadhavi interjected. “I noticed him on the second day. When I kept seeing him, I guessed he was working for you, John, so I approached him.”
“I’m glad you did.” Steve leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
John shook his head. “Great private eye, you are. Perhaps you should think about another career?”
“Maybe you’re right.” He grinned at Maadhavi. “I’d happily be a house-husband.”
“You’d be bored within a week.”
“She’s right.” Steve nodded and winked at John.
“What type of movies do you do, Maadhavi?” Adriana asked.
“I work in the Kannada film industry, Adriana. Kannada is the language of Karnataka, the State in India where Bangalore is.”
“And you can do that from here in Dubai?”
“Yes. I fly down whenever there’s a shoot. We’ve even filmed scenes here in the Emirates. The film-going public loves a bit of Dubai glamor.” Maadhavi took a sip from her glass. “Besides, I prefer to be here. I have more privacy... and him, of course.”
“Well, I’m happy it all worked out
for both of you.” John raised his glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
“Now, how about you tell me why you needed me here?”
9
The four moved to the living room while Marisel cleared the table.
Steve topped up their glasses as the other three waited expectantly for him to begin his story. Sitting down in an armchair opposite John and Adriana, he took a sip from his wine glass, pursed his lips, then put his glass down and sat forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his thighs.
“My older brother, Thomas, has a daughter, my niece. Her name is... was Mia. She’s twenty-four years old.”
“Was?”
“She now goes by Mahfuza Fatima.”
John and Adriana exchanged a glance.
Steve sighed and took a gulp of wine.
“Five years ago, she left Australia with her boyfriend on a trip to Europe. They arrived in Turkey, then crossed the border into Syria. To join the Jihad.”
“Oh.” Adriana’s hand went to her mouth.
John narrowed his eyes, a feeling of apprehension growing within him.
“And?”
Steve stood and walked over to the French windows opening out onto the garden. He stood for a moment, staring out into the garden, then turned to face John.
“We need to get her out of there.”
John glanced at Adriana, then Maadhavi, both waiting for his response.
“Ah... why now? She’s been there for five years. What’s changed?” He frowned. “Don’t get me wrong, I know this sounds harsh, but she’s an adult, she made a choice to go there and join ISIS or whatever they call themselves there.”
“Yeah, she did.” Steve sighed. “You’re right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “She has a daughter, John. Not quite two years old. Her name is Malak. She doesn’t want her to grow up over there. She wants her to have a proper life.”
“Hmmm.” John stared down at the carpet, his mind whirring away. What was the right thing to do?
Payback - John Hayes Series 06 (2020) Page 2
