by Leslie North
“Rebecca Reid. She’s gone.”
Candace’s brow furrowed for a brief moment, seeming perturbed at Zaid’s shift in attention, but she quickly began scanning the terrace for signs of her missing partner.
Zaid rose from the table. “Please excuse me,” he said absently. He hoped that she was still somewhere in the restaurant, just out of view, but as he stood to look around the outdoor terrace, it seemed less likely that was the case.
He approached a member of the royal security detail.
“Yes, sir,” the guard responded as Zaid approached.
“Have you seen the woman who was seated there?” He pointed to her empty seat.
“No, sir,” the guard said.
“Let the others know she is missing,” he ordered. “Her name is Rebecca Reid and you should have received a photo of her along with the others. Check your phone, she’s the redhead.” He left to return to the table as the security officer tapped the button on his shoulder radio receiver.
Zaid heard him relaying the message to the other guards as he stepped away. They quickly mobilized. Several went into the restaurant while the ones remaining outside repositioned themselves to protect the lunch guests better.
“Alacabak,” Zaid whispered in the Chief Advisor’s ear, “have you seen Rebecca Reid, the envoy accompanying the delegates?”
“The redhead?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“She went inside the restaurant a little while ago. It looked like she was walking through to the front,” he answered.
“And you didn’t think to mention this because…?” the Sheikh asked.
“I didn’t think it was important,” Alacabak answered nonchalantly. “Why are you suddenly so protective of one woman?”
He stared down the Chief Advisor, considering his next actions or words at the potential security risk if she found herself in trouble. “We are responsible for everyone on this tour,” he reminded him. He could have shared any number of harsh words with the advisor, but he decided to let it go for the time being. He simply shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he uttered, standing back up.
Alacabak went back to his conversation with the delegate sitting next to him as he walked through the restaurant to see if security had any sightings. As he stepped out front, he swore aloud, as one of the guards looked at him, startled.
Zaid knew where she went. He figured he’d known it since he noticed she was missing but didn’t put it together until he walked back outside. He could not believe that she would jeopardize her safety simply to prove a point.
Rajak was a few blocks over from the restaurants at the waterfront. Many of the migrant workers who served as the labor force for the area lived there. It was a rough area, as many of the residents were not registered Emirati citizens. Rebecca had been asking about the area, and she must have realized how close they were. She seemed to believe that areas like Rajak and Timina represented flaws in the growth and progress of Sharjah, when the situation was actually rather complicated.
The crime in those areas didn’t help the people either, compounding the problems that already existed.
Zaid motioned to two of the guards to follow him as he hurried down the street to where the waterfront district crossed over to Rajak. He heard the click of heels behind him as Candace rushed to catch up with him.
No, he groaned internally. She did not need to follow him where he was going. It was bad enough that Rebecca had insisted on visiting one of the poorest sections of Sharjah. He really didn’t need the tour’s lead representative seeing what Rajak had to offer. If she saw what lay in wait across the bridge, it could undermine everything he was working for with the group of diplomats.
“Go back to the restaurant,” he ordered as she caught up with him. “I can handle this. I know where she went.”
“No,” Candace said. “I’m coming with you. As the tour lead, I am responsible for her behavior,” she argued, convincingly enough.
Zaid didn’t want to waste any more time arguing with the woman—he was too worried about the trouble Rebecca might get into foolishly going off on her own. “Fair enough,” Zaid said. “Keep up. Stay close.”
As they approached the waterway that cut inland from the bay and separated the waterfront district from Rajak, Zaid’s heart sank. There was no way to hide the stark contrast between the two sides of the bridge over the waterway. On one side, the waterfront district was new and modern. It was clean, bright, and populated by tourists and wealthy Emiratis. On the other side, the buildings were dilapidated and obviously outdated. There were large gaping holes where doors should have been. A few windows sat patched up with plywood. The people wandering the streets were noticeably downtrodden. The differences were painfully obvious.
But what seemed to have Candace’s attention was the figure standing on the bridge over the waterway. It was Rebecca, in her gray suit and skirt, digging through a bag she carried on her shoulder with an emaciated teenager standing in front of her, an anxious look on his face as he waited for whatever was in her bag.
Zaid and Candace watched as Rebecca pulled a small bundle out of her bag and handed it to the teenager. The look of gratitude on his face was easy to read even from where they stood. He pulled something out of the bundle that looked like either cake or bread and started eating.
Zaid looked at Candace. “Is she…?”
“Feeding people?” Candace finished for him.
“She is, isn’t she?” Zaid said as the realization hit him. He wanted to be upset with her for being so stubborn and running off the way she had, but he couldn’t help but admire her. As furious as he was at her for sneaking off and making him worry, he was impressed by her boldness and her kindness. He sighed as his feelings about Rebecca, the feelings that already weighed on him heavily, became even more complicated.
“Is that the place she wanted to visit?” Candace asked Zaid.
“Yes, that’s it,” Zaid said with contempt. He hadn’t wanted Candace or any members of the tour to see Rajak or Timina. The run-down, poverty-stricken areas of town could easily deter any investors.
“I knew this place existed, but I didn’t anticipate that it would look so different from the rest of Sharjah. It’s so… poor,” Candace commented.
“Yes, it is,” Zaid agreed. “It’s one of the areas we’re still working to bring out of poverty,” he said absently, watching as nearby two men eyed her shoulder bag. “Listen,” he said, motioning to one of the guards, “you need to get back to the Waterfront Palace. My guard will escort you.” He wanted to get her out of there before anything bad happened. With too few guards with him, things could escalate quickly and he didn’t want to be divided on who he was protecting.
“But...” Candace started to argue.
“But nothing. You can see for yourself that she’s safe. There’s nothing else here for you and your presence makes us less safe. Now, go!”
As Candace turned to leave and head back to the restaurant with the guard following, Zaid told the remaining guard to call for the car before he headed towards the bridge where Rebecca stood. The two men who had been watching her had begun to close in. Zaid could see they were still eyeing her bag, no doubt planning to snatch it from her. It was only a matter of time before they struck.
Though he had insisted that she not go to Rajak, if anything happened to her it would inevitably fall back on him. The safety of everyone involved with the tour was his responsibility. But that was not the only reason. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.
He hit the bridge just as one of the two men shoved her hard sending her tumbling to the ground and the other reached for her bag, yanking it from her shoulder. In a few quick strides, he had overtaken the first man as he started to run after the man with her bag. Zaid, having a considerable size advantage, could have at least grabbed one of the men and detained him, but when he heard Rebecca cry out, he was far more worried about her.
After the men ran off, tossing items from Rebecca’s
bag as they ran, he motioned to the guard who had run up behind him, to pick up the few personal items that had spilled onto the bridge. As Zaid marched over to her, his adrenaline surge suddenly drained away, leaving nothing but anger behind.
Rebecca was sitting hunched on the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees.
“I told you we weren’t going to Rajak for a reason. Are you happy now?” he admonished as he approached. “I should send you back to the States for endangering members of your party with your reckless behavior.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at her feet. She wouldn’t look up at him as he approached her.
“You could have been hurt. Or worse, Rebecca. And now Candace has seen this place, your whole party is going to know about the crime and poverty just around the corner,” he continued.
“Of course,” she said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She answered him in a monotone, which only seemed to fuel his ire.
“You weren’t thinking. That’s the problem. You were over here trying to play humanitarian instead of thinking about what you were doing or where you were. You are not in America, Rebecca. You don’t have the same protections here as you would at home. If I hadn’t figured out where you were headed…” His voice wavered, as he tried to control his rising panic at losing her when she’d only just come back into his life. “I don’t even want to think about what could have happened to you.” He wanted to scare her. He wanted her to be as afraid as he had been when he saw what was about to happen to her, what could have happened if he hadn’t stepped in when he did. She needed to be afraid.
“What do we do now?” she asked meekly.
“A car is on the way to take us back to the palace. Everyone else will return to the hotel for the evening. The tour is over for the day thanks to you,” he answered, his voice hard. Except then he saw she was trembling. His anger softened in the face of her vulnerability. This was Rebecca he was looking at, the little firecracker that wasn’t afraid of anything. Yet, here she was, visibly shaken by what had just occurred.
He put a hand on her shoulder, a feeble gesture for sure, but it was better than doing nothing.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said more calmly. “I just…dammit Rebecca, you could have been hurt. Please, don’t do that again.”
She finally looked up at him, and he saw tears welling up in her blue eyes, threatening to spill over. He wanted to take her in his arms and embrace her, to hold and comfort her, but not here. Not now. She was visiting him on official business. It would have been improper for either one of them to be caught displaying any affection toward each other.
Holding his hand out, he helped her stand as they walked toward the black Mercedes that had just pulled up. A member of the security team stepped out of the front passenger side. “Is everything okay?” he asked as he approached Zaid and Rebecca.
“We’re fine, thankfully,” Zaid said, putting a hand on Rebecca’s back to help her into the car.
Once in the backseat on the way to the palace, the security guard handed Rebecca the belongings that had been scattered across the pavement on the bridge. As she held her personal effects in her lap, Zaid caught a quick glimpse of a picture of a young boy, a boy who looked like Rebecca, but with Middle Eastern features.
“Who’s this?” he said, reaching for the picture.
Snatching the picture before he could take it, she tucked it under the other items on her lap.
“I…Zaid.” Closing her mouth, she stared resolutely out the window refusing to say more.
Placing his hand calmly on hers, he waited for her to turn to look at him. She looked terrified.
Speaking quietly, so as not to scare her further, he asked again. “Who is it?”
He waited patiently as she chewed her lower lip, her worry evident in her desire not to respond. With a heavy sigh, she reached for the picture and handed it to him.
Meeting his gaze, “That’s Calum,” she answered. “My son.”
5
Back at the palace in Zaid’s private quarters, Rebecca sat in one of the chairs in stony silence while the palace doctor checked her out to make sure she was okay. She knew she was fine, but Zaid had insisted that she let the doctor examine her. First flashing a light in her eyes, she blinked away the tears from the bright light, as he continued to examine her. Pressing various spots on her neck, shoulders and back, he asked her questions about her pain levels as she gave the same reply, “no pain.” Cleaning off the scrapes on her hands from where she fell, he wrapped up the exam.
While she sat, she watched Zaid’s expression. The doctor poked and prodded her, but so long as he wasn’t asking her questions, she didn’t pay him much mind. Her attention was focused almost solely on the Sheikh himself who had remained silent in the car after she had admitted that Calum was her son.
In fact, he had yet to say anything to her, which only made the matter that much worse. His face darkened repeatedly, as if his anger came in waves, crashing as he stood off to the side, watching the doctor examine her. She knew he was upset about her actions and jeopardizing the tour but judging from the way he clutched Calum’s photo, their next discussion would be of a far more personal nature. Simply looking at the photo, it was obvious who the father was and from the look on Zaid’s face, he was very aware of that fact. Watching his expression darken again, she swallowed hard suddenly wishing the doctor would find a reason to take her to the hospital so she wouldn’t have to be alone with him.
“Well, Ms. Reid, you’re fine,” the doctor said finally. “You’re lucky. You shouldn’t have strayed from the rest of the group. This isn’t America. You aren’t as free here as it may seem, and you aren’t protected as a citizen. You need to remember that the next time you’re out.”
“I will, thanks,” Rebecca snapped. “Is that all, Doctor?” Her response sounded harsh even to her ears, “Thank you, again,” she added in a calmer tone.
Nodding his head, he squeezed her arm lightly before turning to Zaid, “Make sure she gets plenty of fluids and rest. She may be in shock.”
Zaid blew out a breath she hadn’t realized he was holding. “I will. Thank you, Doctor.” He sounded grateful for the doctor’s news and advice and shook the man’s hand warmly before seeing him to the door.
When he came back into his quarters, he closed and locked the door. The anger had returned to his face.
“We need to talk,” he said.
She flinched at his tone, as he reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. Walking with her over to the couch, he waited until she sat down before joining her. Calum’s photo was back in his hand. The picture seemed so small in his large hands.
For a minute, it seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything. He sat and stared at the picture, rubbing his thumb over the boy’s face. Rebecca was flooded with regret that she’d never reached out to him after their last night together all those years ago. Maybe it had been a mistake not to tell him, but she had her reasons. Some of which were going to have to come out tonight.
“You never told me,” he said. That impressive, booming voice of his had gone hollow and frail. He wasn’t Sheikh Zaid Al-Qasimi at that moment. He was simply Zaid, a normal man looking at a picture of his son for the first time.
“I know,” Rebecca said quietly, bracing herself for the backlash.
“You said his name is Calum?” he asked.
“Yeah. Calum Reid.” She put a gentle hand on his arm and felt the tense muscles through the sleeve of his gown.
“He’s what? Five?”
“Almost,” she answered. She wondered what he was thinking as he stared at the photo. The resemblance between them was uncanny. Calum could have been his clone.
“Why didn’t you ever reach out to me?” he asked. The question came out harsh.
“Look, the nights we spent together, they were amazing.” Her own voice quavered. “If things had been different, maybe we could have been something. But you’re a Sheikh and I’m…”
>
She knew it made it harder for him to understand when he only knew part of the story. He knew about her position in the government, as a diplomat, but he didn’t know the rest, the part that drove her to strive for justice and to further the purpose of peace wherever she went. And she couldn’t tell him all of her secrets. Some things just needed to stay buried for everyone’s safety, hers, Zaid’s and especially Calum’s.
“I didn’t want to drag you down in what I’ve had to deal with,” she finished.
The Sheikh stared at her with a strange look in his eyes. “You do understand I am one of the most powerful members of one of the most influential families in the world, right?”
“Which is more reason to have left you alone,” she argued. “Your family’s wealth and power didn’t need to get caught up in what was going on with my family any more than you did.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said. “What was going on with your family that I couldn’t have helped you with?”
She couldn’t tell him everything. That her parents had been dissidents and she’d spent almost every summer camping in some war-torn part of the world as they worked to help the local populace rebuild. That her parents had eventually pulled her and her sister out of school with the intent to homeschool but simply never got around to it.
She could never tell him that this wasn’t her first visit to Sharjah or the enemies her parents made. Or the fear she had lived in when they went into hiding, as a result. The number of favors her parents had tried to call in to find a safe haven for her and her sister and the aging aunt who had agreed to take them in, changing their last name to match hers and insisting that the sisters have no further contact with her parents.
If it weren’t for her upbringing and her education, Rebecca would never have obtained the job she has now, advising governments on how best to remedy the poorer areas in their locales. However, she still had nightmares of that fateful night. She had just turned eleven and she had clutched tightly to her then seven-year-old sister, not wanting her to see the horror of their parents held at gunpoint. How many nights did she relive that moment as she held Amy to her, waiting for the madmen to murder their parents right in front of them?
