Freedom Code

by Elaine Levine

  Zaida put her fist on her heart. “Do you think they’ll answer?”

  “I know they will. I talked to them earlier.”

  “They’re safe?”

  “They’re fine. Someplace safe. Pissed as hell about it, too.” He grinned.

  Zaida threw her arms around his neck and hugged him—standing on her tiptoes to do it. His body was solid. He acted like he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. His fingers were spread wide, like a boy in a china shop who was told not to touch anything. She laughed, then caught his face and kissed his mouth. “Thank you!”

  Zaida rushed into the house. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and dialed her mom, putting it on speaker so she didn’t have to hold it to her ear.

  “Zaida!” her mom said, her voice a little breathless.

  “Hi, Mom. You okay?”

  “I’m fine, honey. Your father and I are both fine. Last night was a little scary, but everything’s fine now. Did you heed my warning last night?”

  “Yes. A lot’s happened since then.”

  “I know. I’m glad we had that emergency protocol in place. Jamal called us; he wasn’t making sense. So I called you. Then some other men came to our place. They took our phones away but gave us new ones this morning. Are you safe, honey?”

  “I am. Where are you, Mom?”

  “I don’t know. And, even if I did, I don’t think I’d be allowed to say. It’s a safe house of some sort. Your father’s here. Say hello to him. He needs to hear your voice.”

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Zaida,” her dad said with a big sigh. “Are you well?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you?”

  Levi had come into the house. He was leaning against the doorjamb in her room. She covered the little microphone and asked him, “Am I allowed to tell them?”

  “Sure. I’ll write it down for you,” Levi said.

  “Just a minute, Dad. I’m getting the address. It’s somewhere way out on the plains, east of Fort Collins.” Levi handed her the address, which she read off to her father. There was a phone number next to Levi’s name. She gave all of that to her father.

  “You’re with a man.” Her dad’s statement was filled with concern. “Did you know him before this?”

  “No. I just met him last night. Don’t worry about him. He’s very nice.”

  “He’s respecting you?”

  “Yes, Daddy. You know I’m twenty-nine years old now.”

  “I know you’re my baby. I know that we’ve kept you sheltered and protected from so much that I don’t think you’re ready to deal with a mercenary, male or female.”

  “That’s true. He’s a farmer. He has a sunflower farm.”

  Her father’s next words sounded irate. “How can a farmer protect you?” It seemed he turned his head from the phone when he said to someone near him—probably her mom, “Why would they send her off with a farmer? What good is he going to be for her?”

  “H-he”—she paused flashing Levi, who was grinning, a quick glance—”killed some men who broke into my apartment last night. ”

  “Why were there men in your apartment?” Zaida’s mom said from a little distance back.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening. They think someone was using my network of contacts to recruit for some terrorist activity.”

  “This is terrible,” her father snapped. “First, we were accosted in our own home by men with huge guns with suppressors on them. We were given five minutes to pack and get out. How can you pack a lifetime in five minutes? They said someone would be watching our apartment, but I don’t know what that means. I had to call the university and take emergency leave. Apparently, my presence there endangers everyone. Your mother had to cancel her appointments for the next week and hand them off to other doctors for coverage. These things aren’t easy to do without sufficient notice. At least for me, school hasn’t started yet. But for your mother, it’s not so easy. And if it gets out that we’re involved in any way with a terrorist plot, our careers are over. Yours as well.”

  “Yes, Papa.” Zaida only called her father Papa when he was very angry. She sent Levi a quick look. He wasn’t amused any longer. He came over and took the phone from her.

  “Dr. Hussan, let me assure you, no one is accusing any of you of being part of this plot. As far as we know at this point, the three of you were just easy victims. Right now, we have more questions than answers. Zaida’s friend, Jamal, tried to kidnap her last night. I was afraid that he might come after you when he couldn’t get her. You’re currently in protective custody, as is your daughter. We’re going to try to get this resolved as fast as we can. In the meantime, I need your cooperation. I’m not overstating the situation when I say that your lives are in jeopardy. Am I making myself clear?”

  “You are. But we have our lives, our reputations, things that we must tend to,” Darim said.

  “And Jamal would never do that,” Zaida’s mom protested from the background.

  Levi let that go. “The people you’re with can provide you with secure internet connections that can’t be traced to your location. Come up with a cover story, stick to it, minimize your exposure. Do not leave your current location. Not for any reason. Even if you hear Zaida is in danger. I assure you, she is not.”

  “How long will we be in this untenable situation?” Darim asked.

  “I don’t have an answer to that yet. But I will do what I can to shorten it, sir.” He handed the phone back to her.

  “Zaida, have you done something that your Mother and I don’t know about?” her father asked.

  Zaida was silent. She swallowed hard. There were a lot of things in her life that her parents didn’t know about. She looked at Levi, who was still standing near her. At her hesitation, his curiosity intensified. “Nothing that is illegal, Papa.” At least, not in this country.

  “That isn’t a very reassuring answer, daughter.”

  Zaida sighed. “You know how I feel about women expressing themselves.”

  “Yes. We’ve had many discussions about it.”

  She drew a breath. Once some things were said, they couldn’t be unsaid. She’d vowed to protect the women in her circle. She couldn’t expose them now. Instead, she diverted to a tangential topic. “I’ve been writing a less risqué version of my stories for Middle Eastern markets. They deal with women making their own choices about their lives…not necessarily in conformance with Islamic law.”

  She didn’t tell her parents—or Levi—that she had women she hired to translate the stories into various Middle Eastern languages; that was work that could get the women in a lot of trouble within their families and communities.

  Her father was quiet for a long moment. Zaida could sense he was building up a head of steam. “Have you not heard what happened to other Muslim authors who advocated secular views? Did you not see what happened in France when comics were published that disrespected Islamic beliefs?”

  “But, Papa, how can we show people to take responsibility for their choices and behaviors if we don’t discuss any of this?”

  “Zaida. You cannot change the world.”

  “I don’t believe that, Papa. I think I can.”

  “Harming people is not the way.”

  “Mine is a peaceful rebellion.”

  Levi squeezed his eyes shut and hissed, “Shiiiit.”

  “Your rebellion has us all in hiding. ¿Que coño estabas pensando?” her father growled in Spanish. “I did not expect my own daughter to become my enemy.” This he said in Arabic—for her and her mother’s ears alone. “Mr. Jones, I expect you will deal with this.“

  “On it, sir. We’re out for now.” He took the phone and shut it off then tossed it on her bed. Levi sent her a tense look. “Why don’t you get dressed? I’ll warm up breakfast. We can talk while we eat.”

  Zaida folded her arms around her waist and bent over, rocking back and forth. “I did this, didn’t I? This is all because of me. My father never uses
Spanish unless he’s very, very angry.”

  “I need more info before I answer that.”

  “Levi—”

  “Get dressed and come out.”

  He closed the door as he left her room. Zaida had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d known going in that what she was doing could totally blow-up on her. She thought it would only reflect on her, but she’d done terrible harm to people she loved, putting her family, her friends, her community in danger. Because of her, people had died. Like Mike and the men who broke into her home. Yes, the last ones were thugs, but still.

  She rocked some more. This was bad. This was so bad. She covered her face and wept, hearing her father’s voice over and over. I did not expect my own daughter to become my enemy.

  A few minutes later, Levi knocked on her door. “Hey…you coming out?”

  “No.” She wiped her tears away.

  “Why?”

  “I can’t do this. I can’t face what I’ve done.”

  “Are you decent?”

  “No. I’m a horrible human being. My father can attest to that.”

  There was a thump on the door roughly in the area where Levi’s head would have been. “Okay. But are you a human with clothes on?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m coming in.”

  Zaida unfolded slightly to look at him.

  He crouched in front of her. He put his hands on her knees. They were warm hands, a little scraped from the fight at her apartment. She ran her thumbs over his knuckles. His touch was a kindness she didn’t deserve.

  “Hiding isn’t going to help,” he said. “The sooner we dig into this, the sooner we can get it resolved. And there is a ticking clock.”

  She nodded. She needed to warn her group. How could she do that while she was here with Levi? She couldn’t even use the phone she’d been given—he would know everything.

  “Look at it this way. You started this…and you can end it, too,” he said.

  Zaida sighed. Anger slipped in through a crack in her shame. She hadn’t started it. This was just another nit in the litany of injustices women had experienced for millennia. It likely wouldn’t end with her, either. But she could contribute to the ripples of resistance, ripples that could become waves that might build into tsunamis. Nothing less than a sea change would ever stop her. Not even her father’s disapproval.

  He watched those thoughts march across her expression. His eyes hardened. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” He stood. So did she.

  “I do know, Levi.” She felt sad. “We’ve always known.”

  “We?”

  “I have to go,” she said.

  “Go where?”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for helping me last night.” She began gathering her things. “I have to do this alone. I’ll call for a ride share.”

  Levi put his hands on his hips. “And that, princess, ain’t gonna happen. From here out, until this is resolved, we’re joined at the hip.”

  7

  Levi returned to the kitchen, his blood was buzzing. Mine is a peaceful rebellion. Zaida’s words made him rethink her role in this whole affair. This had echoes of Julia all over it. He knew how it all would play out. The op was all that mattered—any and all lies were fair game, whether or not they hit the heart.

  He wondered if Zaida’s parents were really her parents…or were they just hosts for this gig of hers?

  He looked over at her room. She’d shut the door. Maybe she was finally putting herself together. The meal he’d made had definitely seen better days. If he warmed it up one more time, it would be unrecognizable from what it once was.

  He texted Lambert, asking him to send everything he had on Zaida and her parents. He wanted their full dossiers…an accounting of every event in their lives, every step they’d taken in this country. If a psyche analysis was available, he’d take that too.

  My rebellion is peaceful. Every terrorist believed the same—short-term violence could net an eternity of peace. What he didn’t know was why she was doing this. What was driving her? Why take a stand now, here?

  What really was at stake?

  It was time to dig in and get some answers.

  His phone buzzed with a text from Lambert. Want me to do your fucking job for you?

  So you got nothing on them? Levi texted back.

  I gave you everything I had.

  Fucking A.

  BTW, Lambert texted, that black van from last night was a rental used by your Jamal guy. His last name is Abd al-Mukhtar. Looks like a regular guy—businessman and adjunct prof of computer science at CSU. We’re looking into him further.

  Least that matched up with what Zaida had said last night.

  Lambert continued texting. And your hit men from last night are confirmed Tahrir al-Sham.

  Tahrir al-Sham. That group was a new incarnation of an older al-Qaeda group. Bad motherfuckers, for sure.

  Levi responded, Well, three down. Ran into a former Red Team guy yesterday. A group of them are working an op in WY. Could use some of their tech guy’s time. You know Owen Tremaine? It’s his team. Can you clear it with him?

  I do and I will. I’m out, the commander texted.

  Levi looked up as Zaida came out of her room. Though her expression was pale, she was fully composed. She’d showered, dried her hair, put on her makeup. She wore a purple cotton-blend shirt that showed a sweet column of honey-toned flesh pointing down to her cleavage and up her neck. The shirt was fitted at her waist, accentuating her generous breasts and curvy hips. Her shirttails weren’t tucked in, so they hung down to the top of her thighs, leading his gaze down her decadent legs to a pair of wedge sandals. Her toenails were painted the same deep red that was on her nails.

  All of it, all of her, made everything deep inside him quicken, as it was no doubt meant to do. He was grateful for his time with the Black Squadron. They’d taught him feminine wiles were as deadly as a KA-BAR.

  He dished out a portion of the now-flat soufflé, cut a piece of the monkey bread, and scooped a spoonful of the fruit for her. He pushed those dishes across the wide island so she could sit on one of the stools to eat. He made a plate for himself, then ate standing up, facing her, the island between them.

  He thought about and discarded a half-dozen tactics. The only one that was going to work with her was an empathetic approach. Hard to do when he was so angry, but he had to keep emotion out of this if he wanted to survive her.

  “He was wrong, you know—your dad,” Levi said. “You can change the world.”

  Her eyes met his. “Do you believe that?”

  “Absolutely. Every change that’s ever happened in humanity started with the determination of a single person.”

  She lowered her gaze to her plate. She ate all of her soufflé, half her monkey bread, and all of her fruit. He poured her a fresh cup of coffee, deciding to switch tactics mid-stream.

  He was too pissed to play games, so he hit her with a direct question. “How long have you known the Hussans?”

  Her eyes widened before her face settled into a frown. “Since I was born. Why ask that?”

  “Just trying to get to the bottom of things. That little convo with your parents has made me re-evaluate some things.” He used air quotes around the word parents. He could see she was taking offense. If it weren’t so critical that he break her open, he might have found it amusing. “Why would Jamal want to kidnap you?”

  “You’ll have to ask him that.”

  “I would, but he’s in the wind. No one from his company or the university knows where he is. I checked this morning.” Levi sipped his coffee. “Did you know that one of your manuscripts showed up in a Syrian camp along with that ransomware message?”

  “That message is why I met with Mike. It was showing up on computers belonging to some of my friends. I don’t know how or why that worm was called Freedom Code. For me, it has a very specific meaning, which I explained to you. You were right. It means everything a
nd…nothing.” She shook her head and said, “As far as my manuscript, I don’t know. My books are published in print and ebook all over the world. It wouldn’t be hard to download a copy. Maybe a reader in Syria likes my work.”

  Levi gritted his teeth. “I don’t have infinite patience, Zaida.” That got him nowhere. “Talk to me about your freedom code. Pretend I’m one of the women in one of your group. Tell me what I need to do to be in your rebellion.”

  “I can’t. That’s not how it works.”

  He huffed an irritated sigh. “I need to know specifics.”

  She left her stool and went into the living room, pacing the short length to the porch and back. Facing him, she waved her hands in sharp movements, as if she were arguing silently to herself. “No. My rebellion means ’no.’”

  Levi frowned. “Pardon me?”

  “No, I won’t have sex with you. No, I don’t want to marry that man. No, I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom. No, I want to be a stay-at-home mom. No, I can’t do—whatever—I need to work on my degree. No, I don’t want children right now. No, I don’t want to wear a head cover. No, I will wear a head cover because I choose to. No, I won’t participate in female mutilation to satisfy your insecurities.”

  Levi came around the island and leaned on one of the stools. “I’m not following.”

  “Freedom code is the ability to say no without repercussions.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your rebellion worth dying for?” he asked. Mike had asked the same thing. Her big, brown eyes looked wounded. Levi almost wished he hadn’t gone there.

  “Yes. But how can I teach ‘no’ if I’m dead?”

  “Is it worth having others die on your behalf?”

  She slowly shook her head. “You so don’t get what our freedom code is.”

  “I don’t. I’m trying to understand. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep asking questions until I do.”

  “Women are half the human population. Humanity ceases to exist without us. And yet, we have no parity with men.”