by Fiona Palmer
Jaz tried hard not to shiver from their contact. She sat down on one of the mats and watched as he joined her. He was wearing cargo pants, his combat boots and a black singlet. His upper body was so well sculpted Jaz itched to reach out and touch him. Focus, she warned herself.
‘Anna is onto it. I’ve kept it simple, just that you and Pax work for the government. At the moment she is preoccupied with the challenge of doing your passport so she hasn’t asked too many questions. But they may come later.’
He agreed. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when it comes.’ He lifted up a bag she only now noticed. ‘Here, there is a gelabie in here for you to pack in your bag. You will need this when we go out for the rendezvous. Make sure you pack full-length clothes, no skimpy stuff. We will try and mask ourselves as tourists. You are taking me back to see the place that your “father” came from.’
‘Hence my new name?’ she said, pulling out her passport.
Ryan nodded his approval. ‘Yes, this is good.’ He gave it back and handed over the bag. They sat there for what seemed like ages, discussing the mission in great detail.
‘I won’t be able to talk to you, so we must go over everything now, you understand,’ he said, nudging her knee to check she was listening.
Of course she was listening. She was about to have her first international trip, to Pakistan of all places. The US and Australian travel advice said ‘We strongly advise you to reconsider your need to travel to Pakistan at this time due to the very high threat of terrorist attack, kidnapping, sectarian violence and the unpredictable security situation’. She knew, she’d checked. They also recommended she get kidnapping insurance. Shit.
‘Hey, you two,’ said Anna as she walked towards them. ‘I’m finished.’ She threw the passport at Ryan. ‘Took me a while but I got there in the end. Wanna tell me why you took such a bad photo? It so doesn’t do you justice,’ she said with a smirk, as she openly admired Ryan’s physique.
Damn, Anna had no shame. Jaz rubbed her face and realised how numb her bum was. How long had they been sitting here talking for? Outside it was getting dark; she checked her watch. Wow, they’d been talking for a few hours.
‘Thanks Anna, this is brilliant.’ Ryan checked the passport, clearly impressed. He smiled up at Anna. ‘You’re very good.’ Anna blushed at his praise.
‘Na, it’s all in the program. I just had to press a few buttons. But you didn’t tell me about your photo?’
Ryan gave his best cheeky smile. ‘I could, but then I’d have to kill you.’ He laughed. ‘It’s all a part of my job. Anyway, I best be going. Lots more to get done.’ He stood up and kissed Anna’s cheek. ‘Thanks Anna. You have no idea what you have done. I appreciate it.’ Then he walked out without a backwards glance. Jaz was a little disappointed she didn’t get a kiss. Hey, she was the one who got Anna to do it after all. Did that not count for something?
‘Did you see that?’ said Anna, rubbing it in.
‘You are shocking.’ Jaz got up and looped her arm around her friend. ‘Come on, let’s get this fake letter done. I need to get my story straight.’ She had so many stories to get straight she hoped she didn’t slip up.
Jaz was feeling the overload of information and nerves. Tomorrow she would be flying to Pakistan. With Ryan. God help her.
Chapter 16
Jaz had gone with jeans, boots and a long-sleeved t-shirt. She assumed it would be hot in Pakistan, so trying to stay covered but cool meant wearing her white and blue cotton baseball-style shirt. They were only taking carry-on bags, so her backpack was full with a change of clothes, a hat and the gelabie Ryan had given her. Just the basics he’d said, they weren’t going for a holiday. He’d also given her his bag that now hung from the back of his wheelchair, which she pushed through the Perth International airport. Ryan had shocked her this morning, wearing baggy trackpants and an extra large long-sleeved shirt. His hair looked almost greasy and he wore running shoes.
They had met at a random house, one used by the Agency, at eight in the morning. They had gone over the mission again, Ryan drumming in all the things she needed to be mindful of and how to play her part. By eleven they got a taxi that could transport a wheelchair and started acting. Ryan was slumped in the wheelchair and had a fake colostomy bag tucked into the side. He certainly looked the part. There was no way he could have pulled it off with fitted clothes; his lean, muscled body would have given the game away.
The taxi ride to the airport had been the end of the conversation. Ryan wouldn’t speak and the quiet was eerie. It made her feel like she was in this thing alone, but she had to reassure herself that if trouble struck, Ryan would be there to jump in if need be.
As she walked to the Emirates counter, she took out the tickets Ryan had given her. She was amazed at how many people looked away upon seeing Ryan in his chair. Except for the little kids, who openly stared with curiosity.
For Jaz, never having flown before, the whole process was rather scary. They had to swap Ryan over to an airline wheelchair, while his other one went with the luggage. Jaz played the part of the doting girlfriend who helped lift him into his other wheelchair as if she’d been doing it for years. Then they were whisked through a side gate straight to the big plane.
The flight attendants were very helpful, and she got Ryan settled into his seat.
‘You seem so young to be coping with this,’ said the attendant, as Jaz pulled out a tissue to wipe some drool from Ryan’s lips. It was the weirdest thing, especially knowing how capable he was, but Jaz knew they had to act. They had to play their parts, as it would be the only thing to save them on the way back with the important intel. If they stuffed up and were found out, they wouldn’t make it home. Simple as that, Ryan had said. Eyes were everywhere and spies where everywhere. It was not a concept that made Jaz feel particularly comfortable.
Jaz smiled up at the attendant, who was perfectly polished in her Emirates uniform. ‘We were engaged before his accident, I was only twenty then. You just can’t walk away from someone you love. He’s still in there and he knows me.’ Jaz sat beside Ryan and held his hand.
The attendant smiled warmly, her eyes glassy. ‘Well, if you need anything, just let me know. My name’s Sandra.’
‘Thanks, Sandra. We should be fine.’
Jaz put on a movie for Ryan. Teasingly, she selected a romantic comedy and watched for a reaction. Besides the odd grunt, he gave nothing else away of his disdain.
‘Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that to you,’ she said, gently patting his hand before changing his movie to something more his style. It had guns and fast cars; at least, she assumed it was his style. He was a man of action, after all.
The flight was long, with a stopover in Dubai, so Jaz tried to sleep after the movie. They swapped over flights in Dubai to Lahore in Pakistan. This one was only a short flight and they’d had to rush to catch it. Jaz found out that trying to move quickly and efficiently with a wheelchair was hard to master.
‘Next time, I think I’ll let you do all the work,’ she said, as they settled into their last flight. She watched Ryan, who had his eyes closed. Probably easier to pretend he was asleep. She was so used to playing the part of the doting girlfriend that she had to stop herself from reaching out to hold his hand. Heck, who was she trying to kid. She was always having to stop herself from touching him. At least now she had a legitimate excuse. One she was probably enjoying too much. With his eyes shut she could study him, all those details she loved and yearned for.
She realised she was being watched and turned to see Sandra watching her.
‘I can see how much you love him,’ she said. ‘You’re an inspiration.’
Jaz tried not to tense and hoped to God that Ryan really was asleep. Then she remembered she was supposed to love him. She gave Sandra a nod and turned back to Ryan and caressed his arm. ‘He’s my inspiration,’ she said softly. And it wasn’t a lie or a part of the act. Sandra had moved on, but Jaz kept her hand on Ryan. She felt so much safer and less
nervous if she could hold onto him. Closing her own eyes, she relaxed enough to get some sleep.
It seemed like only minutes later that she felt Ryan’s arm move, jolting her awake. He hadn’t moved it far, just enough to stir her from her sleep. Stretching, she realised everyone was getting ready for landing. She watched out the window the unfamiliar landscape below them. Different rooftops, buildings with dome tops and the frantic movement of traffic. It was close to lunchtime in Pakistan. They’d been travelling for ages and she couldn’t wait to stretch her legs.
‘We are here,’ she said to Ryan. ‘I can’t believe it.’ But now her nerves came back full force. They were off sightseeing first, keeping up the appearance of tourists. Then they would head to the hotel, change, get the motorbike and head off to meet the other agent. It could be a late night. Their flight home was the next morning at six.
They got out of the airport quickly enough; getting their wheelchair took the longest. Outside Jaz got a taxi while the noise, smell, dust and hot humidity assaulted her. Instantly she was clammy and sticky.
She didn’t know the language, but Ryan had told her to negotiate with the taxi driver before they left. In the taxi, Jaz passed the note forward that listed the things they wanted to see. The driver nodded and drove them back out into the mayhem of traffic. Jaz took this time to soak up Pakistan. Who knew if she would ever be back? It was sweltering hot, humidity at an all time high.
Jaz was fascinated with the huge piles of flowers and petals in the roadside markets, including garlands for necks and wrists. Boys at the road tolls, street corners and lights generally sold these, and sometimes they sold bread or sweets. She tried to imagine the little children stripping the petals off through the night, ready for the morning trade.
They passed more slums, homes with bits of iron, cardboard, wood or even junk, and no water or septic facilities. Jaz understood why the women wore such heavy, clinging perfumes. The driver took them past the Badshahi Mosque. Rows of tall archways made up the building, the largest in the middle, and the brickwork made it seem like it was topped with lace. Three big pointy domes also protruded from the roof. Jaz wished she had her phone to take photos. Instead, all this would have to stay alive in her memories.
Jaz also wished she could have brought something, anything to bring home, even if it was one of the beautiful salwar kameez outfits she’d seen the ladies wearing here.
When they’d spent sufficient time touring, she gave the driver the address of their hotel. Jaz felt a deep appreciation for carers and what they went through, as she had to lift Ryan into and out of the taxi. It was backbreaking work, time consuming, and she’d never take getting into a car for granted again.
She also thought Ryan was enjoying it too much when she caught a hint of a smile after she’d groaned at how heavy he was. ‘When we get home, look out,’ she said as they rode to the Marvel Hotel. Ryan had said it was Military Zone 19, whatever that meant. He’d mentioned checkpoints too.
The taxi driver kept glancing back at her and Jaz was starting to wish she could hide under her Muslim clothes. She would rather the taxi driver watch the road. It was bloody chaos out there. Motorbikes whizzed past, drivers without helmets. Sometimes a whole family crammed onto a Honda or Yamaha, some ladies sat side-saddle. Little cars and three-wheeled contraptions, half motorbike, half cart, jostled for positions. And then there were carts, pulled by a horse or donkey, once even a buffalo. There were lots of mini-vans too and some busses, brightly painted. It was so noisy. Hundreds of horns tooting different sounds, the revving of motorbikes and the squeal of brakes as the traffic merged together. Traffic police were everywhere with their whistles, causing more chaos and noise. It was amazing there were no accidents. Jaz watched out the window in horror and amazement. People were also walking through the traffic, men in long loose pants or big nightshirts, some with a scarf around their heads, women in full gelabie. The colours were khaki, brown, white and blue. What a different kind of world. Slums were everywhere and the smell would permeate the car as they passed, and then there were the large billboards advertising Coke that edged the road like a fence. She glanced back to Ryan to see what he made of it all but he was watching her. ‘I suppose this isn’t new to you.’ Yep, he was having more fun watching her reactions.
The taxi slowed as cars were split into very narrow lanes that zigzagged with witches’ hats. Two soldiers in khaki uniforms with red berets, armed to the teeth, walked to one car, another vehicle further up had six guys inspecting it. The boot and bonnet was up, one was scrutinising the driver and passengers, passports and IDs being passed back and forth. Another carried a mirror on a stick, putting it under the car. Jaz felt her pulse race. One of the soldiers looked inside and waved them through. Jaz had never felt so relieved to not be the one in six that was stopped. Ryan had told her they mainly stop cars with people who looked like terrorists. She was relieved to think they didn’t fall into that category. What was scary was seeing the two soldiers on either side of the lane with AKs at the ready. Behind them was a Landrover with a machine gun on the roof aimed at the lane, and not far from them was another pair of Landrovers, also with massive machine guns on the roof. Guess they weren’t planning on letting anyone get away. Jaz didn’t stop gripping the seat until they were long gone from the checkpoint.
After more crazy traffic, they arrived at their hotel before they became a road statistic. Imagine if she’d died here or was badly injured. How would she explain that to her family?
As they entered the hotel, Jaz passed an armed guard. More soldiers and guards with guns. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or worried about the two she saw out the front of the hotel.
Inside it was less frantic and Jaz felt herself relax a bit. This was all so new but the hotel reception was nice, like a hotel back home. Only she was struggling with communication and the money side of things. At least the man at the desk knew enough English to get them sorted. The worst bit was this would probably all easy for Ryan.
After booking in, they went to their room along passages of cream walls with wooden doors and a floor that followed the colour scheme in the tiles. Their room was also similar in colour and was spacious enough for a wheelchair.
The moment Jaz shut the door, Ryan got up out of the chair. ‘Oh my God, it’s a miracle,’ she said. It actually felt like one, considering she’d hauled his butt everywhere today. It got to the point where it had begun to felt very real.
‘Ha ha,’ said Ryan, turning to her as he stretched. Hearing his voice was sweet pleasure. ‘Get your stuff ready. We will need to change and be out of here soon.’ Then he ducked into the bathroom.
Jaz went to the double bed and flopped down on it, stretching out. She was feeling like crap, which was probably jet lag. Jaz wished she had her phone and could text Anna or Taylor. She wondered if Marcus had sent any texts. She’d left her phone at Pax’s and was going to pretend she’d lost it for a while. Hopefully that would suffice everyone.
‘Ah, that’s better,’ said Ryan as he reappeared. He pulled his bag off the wheelchair and threw it on the bed, then he began to pull apart the wheelchair.
Jaz sat up with interest. Within seconds, Ryan was holding a knife.
‘Was that hidden in the chair?’ she said with awe, as she watched Ryan flip it around. Was it wrong to think it was sexy watching him play with a dangerous weapon? It got better when he pulled off his big shirt, revealing the chest she dreamed about. He was all bumps and lumps of formed muscles, tight caramel skin and a scattering of hair leading down into the trackpants. Jaz swallowed hard. She knew she was staring but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t rip her eyes away.
It wasn’t until he pulled out one of those nightshirts the men wear that he looked up. There was something warm in his eyes, like a purple swirl of passion. Or maybe she was dreaming it. It was probably just a reflection from her own eyes.
‘You’d better get ready.’
If he’d seen her gawking he didn’t say, but his wo
rds moved her into action.
She pulled her bag closer and unzipped it just as Ryan kicked off his shoes and dropped his trackpants. Holy cow. His black trunks were fitted, to the point Jaz forgot to breathe. Ryan sat down on the bed to pull off his pants and Jaz started fumbling for her gelabie. Her eyes kept flicking back over Ryan’s wide shoulders, across his skin and scars. Oh boy, the outside heat was now in their room, temperature at boiling point.
Well, two could play at this game. She didn’t want to be the only one floundering. Jaz took her boots off, then her shirt and jeans, until she was standing in her black bra and briefs. She was reaching for the pants when she saw Ryan pull up his trousers, turn and fumble as he caught sight of her. She was deliberately slow putting on her pants, while Ryan remained motionless. Frozen. Jaz took great delight in feeling his eyes roam over her; but when he met her eyes, he turned, so she missed reading him. But his shoulders moved with each breath and his fist bunched tightly at his side as he faced the other way. He seemed uncertain of what to do next. Jaz had her pants on when he finally ducked back into the bathroom. Obviously he left to give her some privacy, but Jaz wasn’t fussed. Seeing the way he’d stared at her had given her courage. She realised she was holding the power in that moment, and for once it was nice that it was on the other foot. Maybe there was something there still.
By the time Ryan came out of the bathroom, Jaz was all dressed except for the head part.
‘Can you help me with this?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’
Jaz felt like the world had gone quiet with the gelabie on. It was as if she was hiding and no one could see her. It reminded her of school when she seemed invisible. Or when she was younger and would hide in a box with a hole cut out to look through. The gelabie felt like that.
Ryan gave her the once over, this time with her clothes on, and nodded his approval before turning to use the mirror. He was applying some dark foundation to his face. Jaz realised it didn’t matter what her face looked like but Ryan needed help to disguise his. By the time he’d finished, Jaz reckoned she wouldn’t have recognised him on the street.
