by Daco
Isbel wasted no time in delivering the numbers. “All you have to do is reverse the first and last numbers on both strings,” she told Jordan.
“Are you sure?” Jordan asked her again to be certain.
“Positive.”
“If you’re wrong, neither of us will live through this. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“I promise.”
Jordan studied Isbel’s face. “Did your father tell you what the numbers were?”
“No. He only told me how to correct the strings.”
Jordan was satisfied the girl was telling her the truth. “Good,” she said. “And one more thing,” Jordan paused to deliver the punch.
Isbel stiffened.
“Do not, and I mean do not, ever, lie to me again. Do you understand?”
“I promise.” The girl wrung her hands. “I won’t.”
Confident the mission was back on track, Jordan pushed in the clutch and placed the stick in reverse.
• • •
It was late when Jordan and Isbel reached the safe house, a cabin well off the beaten path, located in the wilderness somewhere between Tehran and Mashhad.
Isbel woke when Jordan turned off the car. “Where are we?” the girl asked, trying to focus.
“Near Salook National Park,” Jordan told her. “We’ll stay the rest of the night here and be off early.”
“I know this park,” Isbel said happily. “We’re near Sabzevar, aren’t we?”
“Yes.”
“My father used to take me to the Sabzevar Amusement Park when we lived in Mashhad.” Isbel smiled.
Jordan looked at her with a loss of words. How could this girl be so carefree when her life hung in the balance; didn’t she realize the danger they faced every step of the way? Didn’t she know that once she hit the streets of Ashgabat she was no longer going to be an innocent kid? That she was about to become another lost soul looking to survive in a cold world?
“I rode all the rides and we ate pashmak. Do you know it? I think the English call it cotton candy, but ours is made with sesame and sugar,” Isbel continued. “I don’t guess you’ve ever been to the park? You have to go.”
Jordan refrained from smiling. She could see this memory was important to the girl, but she was tired.
Oblivious to Jordan’s reaction, Isbel continued. “At the entrance to the park, there’s a star-shaped water fountain. It’s really pretty.”
“I’m sure it was all very lovely,” Jordan said rather harshly. “Can we go inside?” And as soon as she said the words, she felt a pang of guilt for not having been kinder. And before Jordan knew what she was doing, she found herself offering the girl words of comfort. “I hope one day we can all go to your park together.”
“Me, too,” Isbel said.
The cabin was nestled between two sandy ridges. It was rustic with the barest of essentials, making it the perfect safe house. And with no one anywhere near them, Jordan was glad she’d be able to catch a few undisturbed hours of sleep.
It was cool that night and with only one blanket to share, Isbel snuggled next to Jordan. Joined in warmth, Jordan was just falling asleep and would have slept the rest of the night except Isbel spoke.
“Don’t you have kids?”
Jordan’s eyes popped open.
The girl must have sensed Jordan was awake because she asked her again. “Don’t you?”
Isbel was so close Jordan could feel the girl’s breath flow against her neck. “Isbel, it’s late. Can we just go to sleep?”
But Isbel continued, “Don’t you want any?” she asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice.
“I think the husband usually comes first,” Jordan told her, not wanting to speak of Willoughby. There was too much pain in not being with her daughter. What Jordan wanted most was to be with Willoughby and watch her grow up, but that wasn’t possible. There were too many people out there who wanted Jordan dead and she wasn’t willing to bring that home to the only child she might ever have in this life. She’d protected her daughter this long and she would continue to do just that.
“My mother died,” Isbel said.
This wasn’t a conversation Jordan wanted to have either. “I’m sorry.”
“When I was born,” the girl added.
“So you never really had a mother?”
“No. Just my father, but he tried hard.”
“You must have had a grandmother around?”
“Just one. She came to help after I was born. We went to see her in Iraq a few times, but she never came again before she died.”
Jordan tried being more sympathetic. “You’re lucky you have a father.”
“I know.”
“Life’s not always fair. You just have to do the best that you can.”
“I know.” Isbel’s voice softened.
Jordan knew what it was like to lose a parent and in her case, she’d lost both of them at the same time. All she had left from her parents and their family life together was the diamond from her mother’s engagement ring. Had the ring not been in the shop for repair when their house exploded, killing both of her parents and burning everything they owned to the ground, she would have nothing more than their memories.
Jordan yawned, hoping their talk was over as she closed her eyes, then she found herself reaching to feel the pendant. “You’ll be fine,” she said to Isbel in a hushed voice.
“Do you really think so?” Isbel’s voice weakened more.
“Sure you will.” Jordan tried to sound upbeat.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” The girl’s voice cracked. “What am I supposed to do?” And then she started to cry.
“Don’t worry,” Jordan tried comforting her. “It’ll all work out.”
“I don’t even know where I’m going. All I have is some stupid passport that says I’m Russian. I don’t want to be Russian.”
“Isbel, you need to calm yourself. This worrying isn’t going to do you any good.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You have a home to go to, I have nothing. A little money, some clothes. What’s that?”
“What about your father? You’ll see him again. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it now, especially the way he left things with you, but he’s your father. He’ll find you, wherever you are.”
“No.” Isbel cried harder. “He said no. He said I’d never see him again.”
“Isbel.” Jordan tried to console her, but soon realized words weren’t enough. “Come here.” Jordan rolled over and took Isbel into her arms.
“I’m scared.” Isbel wept.
“You’re going to be okay,” Jordan promised her. What else could she do but give the child some hope. “You’ll be okay. I promise.”
Isbel quivered uncontrollably. “Promise?”
“Yes. Now please, calm yourself. You need to sleep.”
Isbel lay cradled in Jordan’s arms. The girl sobbed a bit longer until she finally gave up and fell into fitful sleep. But after all that, Jordan was unable to sleep. She agonized over the situation until her tired body got the better of her and she drifted off to a place of lost and disconnected thoughts.
• • •
The next morning, after a quick bite to eat, Isbel sat contentedly in a chair, waiting as Jordan carried their bags to the car.
“Thanks for making me feel better last night,” Isbel said when Jordan reentered the cabin.
“No problem.”
“No, I mean it. You didn’t have to be so nice.” Isbel paused. “But I’m glad you were. I guess that’s what it’s like having a mother … or a big sister.”
“We all need someone to lean on in a tough spot.” Jordan lightly touched Isbel’s shoulder hoping to end the conversation, then walked to the b
ed. There, she picked up the rumpled blanket, shook it, and threw it across the top of the mattress.
“Don’t move!” Isbel said to her in a crisp voice.
Jordan turned. The girl was pointing her gun at a Persian leopard, indigenous to northern Iran, entering the cabin through the wide open door. The leopard was young and had not yet reached its full adult size, but its claws were deadly, and more importantly, where there was a young leopard, its mother was sure to follow.
Jordan mouthed the words, “Don’t shoot,” and stood motionless.
The leopard advanced toward some bread lying on the side table next to the bed. The cat grazed the side of Jordan’s leg as she padded her way toward the food. There, she clutched the piece of bread between her deadly jaws, and in a single chomp, it was gone. Turning, the cat headed toward Isbel seated at the small table.
Jordan motioned for Isbel to remain still, but the girl pushed a package of bread off the edge of the table.
Snarling, the leopard jumped back. She crouched defensively, then sniffed the air and inched forward to snag the bread.
Once the cat had the food between her jaws, Isbel cried, “Shoo, shoo,” and motioned with her hands for the leopard to leave.
The animal leapt backwards and scrambled out the door.
Jordan raced for her gun and made for the door. “Come on,” she told the girl.
“You think it’s safe to go out?”
When they were outside, they heard a loud snarl.
“Get in!” Jordan shouted to Isbel as she pivoted around, raised her gun, and fired into the air above a mother cat and her two cubs.
The cats instantly scattered.
Jordan opened the back door to the Samand and jumped inside of it, then slid into the front seat.
“Are they gone?” Isbel searched through the window.
A few seconds later, the mother was at the window.
“Shoot it!” Isbel cried.
Jordan turned over the ignition. It wouldn’t start. The mother pounced on the hood of the car and jumped at the windshield.
Isbel screamed.
Jordan honked the horn.
The cat swiped at the windshield again.
“Go, go,” Isbel cried.
Jordan tried starting the car again. The engine turned over and started. She put the stick in first and popped the clutch.
The cat jumped from the car and raced back to her cubs.
As Jordan started down the road, to make light of what had happened, she said, “Okay, that was fun.”
“Fun?” Isbel said, still catching her breath. “Why didn’t you shoot that cat?”
“It’s against the law,” Jordan told her.
“That cat was going to kill you!”
“No. She was only protecting her turf.” Jordan patted the girl’s leg. “And for the record, I could have killed that leopard at any time, but I didn’t want the cubs to be without their mother.” Then she smiled at the girl.
Jordan’s cell phone rang.
It was Sonya. “We had a visitor this morning,” Sonya told her.
“Did you?” Jordan waited for the details.
“Officer Tavaazo.”
Jordan looked at the burn on her forearm and felt her anger rise. She knew exactly what Tavaazo was up to. And there wasn’t a thing in the world she could do about it. The matter of Ben and Tavaazo now rested solely with Sonya.
“He’s a persistent one, that little man,” Sonya said.
Jordan didn’t want to have this conversation. She wanted to let it go. So she simply asked, “How’s Ben?”
Sonya continued. “To tell you the truth, I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t figured out who your boy really is.”
“He’s incognito at the moment,” Jordan replied.
“Bruises, beard, new name,” Sonya said. “That won’t last long.”
“Yes, well, the authorities aren’t looking for a married man with a kid. They’re looking for Ben Johnson, who used Gustav Kominski’s Russian passport to get into the country.”
“He’s Russian now. That makes him suspect.”
“Reza Ahed is a Russian diplomat,” Jordan pointed out. “With immunity.”
“As long as he stays quiet, he can play Russian, but the moment he speaks English, that’s it.”
“Then keep him quiet.”
“I’m trying.”
“Drug him.” Then Jordan changed the subject. “Have you delivered the funds to the doctor?”
“Done.”
“Just don’t forget, you’re a woman. He could still turn on you,” Jordan warned her.
“That’s not going to happen. Oh, and it looks like we have visitors again.” Sonya disconnected the call.
Chapter 21
A short distance down the road, Isbel turned to Jordan. “Is he okay?”
“What’s that?” Jordan was lost in thought.
“Ben,” the girl said.
“Yeah, yeah, he’ll be fine.”
“When will he get out of the hospital?”
“I’m not sure.”
“He’s lucky. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, he’s lucky,” Jordan replied, then glanced out the side window. The desert seemed to go on forever. It was barren, silent, and this wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. So she asked, “Would you like to listen to the radio?”
Isbel studied Jordan’s blank expression before she reached for the dial. A song or two played. Then she started up about Ben again. “You know, back at the hospital, he kept saying something. It was right after surgery. I think he was trying to tell you something, like he needed something, because he kept saying your name.”
Jordan glanced at Isbel. She didn’t want to talk about Ben. She didn’t want to think about him. And yet, he remained ever-present in her thoughts.
Isbel continued. “I didn’t quite understand, he kept saying something like — ” the girl tried imitating the words in English “ — Jordan I should have … I should have … ”
And though Isbel butchered the pronunciation Jordan understood what the girl was trying to say. After Isbel gave it a few more attempts, Jordan had had enough. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, “but I don’t want to talk about Ben.”
“I understand.” The girl turned toward her side window. “That’s how I felt about leaving Baba.”
In silence, they had traveled the length of the highway, passing through the straights of the semi-desert region and down and around the barren range of mountains that sheltered Mashhad from the rest of the country. The holy city was the second-largest city in Iran and was now coming into view.
Jordan’s plan was to take the bypass and avoid the city altogether, but as they neared the exit, a closed construction site blocked the way. “Looks like roadwork ahead,” she announced. “We’ll have to cut through the city.”
And as soon as they exited the highway and entered the city, Isbel happily announced, “It’s Mahdi. Did you know?”
“Yes,” Jordan replied.
“I wish we could go.”
“It’s not possible.”
“I know, but I still wish we could.” Isbel sat glued to the window.
People were filling the streets. And later that night, elaborate lights displays covering both buildings and homes would illuminate the city with every color of the rainbow. Fireworks would light the sky. And the masses would come together to worship.
“Do you know Mahdi?” Isbel asked. “It’s the birthday of Imam Mahdi. The final Imam of twelve.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Imam Mahdi didn’t die?”
Jordan was well versed in the beliefs of the Middle East, but let the girl speak.
“He was hidd
en by God — the Occultation — and later appeared as Isa,” the girl explained. “You know who Isa is, don’t you?”
“Jesus Christ,” Jordan answered her.
The girl nodded. “We believe so much the same.”
“I think we all want the same,” Jordan said.
Isbel looked into the street. “Everyone is so happy,” she remarked. “See how they block off the streets for the people. The kids get free candy and fruit.”
“I’m sure it’s fun.”
“I don’t know why I said I’d like to go, I couldn’t get around with my leg.” She reached to rub her leg just above the top of the cast.
“Is your leg bothering you?”
“Yeah.” Isbel grimaced. “It seems to be.”
“I’ll get you some medicine when we stop.”
“I didn’t really notice until now.”
Jordan studied the girl’s face; she was flushed. “We’ll take off the cast and clean it up a bit.”
“The pins bother me.”
“You can watch the fireworks from our room. I think we’ll have a view,” Jordan said to make her feel better.
When they reached the room, Isbel immediately said, “Can I lie down first?”
Jordan helped her into bed. “We need to clean your leg up,” she told her.
“I don’t feel so good,” the girl said. “Let me rest a bit.”
“Okay, rest for a while.”
“Thanks.” The girl immediately closed her eyes.
When Isbel was situated, Jordan went to the closet near the door. There, she found the case the Chinese had left her, containing the equipment she needed: gas masks, grenades, smokers, and a couple of automatic machine guns with plenty of ammo.
“My head hurts,” Isbel said. “And my leg.”
Jordan walked to her side.
“How long are we staying here anyway?” Isbel looked up at Jordan, still wearing her expression of pain.
“Not long.” She kept it brief. “We’ll head to Turkmenistan soon.”
