Come Home

by Patricia Gussin

  Natalie heard more footsteps coming up the carpeted stairs—the stairs where Rob lay, hemorrhaged to death.

  When several men barged into the long room, Natalie first recognized Berk. Where had he been? Why hadn’t he protected Rob? Hadn’t Mohamed warned them that Seth was dangerous—had killed the other brother? With a rasping sob, Natalie realized that Rob had been the only one who’d argued for Mohamed to come back with them—just in case—now—

  Was Ahmed still alive? As a doctor, could she do something to help him? Seth had incapacitated him somehow and now dangled him like a rag doll over the balcony rail. Did he intend to drop him over the side? Only the distance of one high-ceiling story, but if Ahmed hit the wrong way—

  Another shot, and a bullet must have struck Seth because he staggered. But he did not let go of Ahmed.

  No one blocked Natalie’s path as she raced to the edge of the balcony, leaned over, and grabbed Ahmed’s shirt, trying to tug him back onto the rail.

  But now Berk shouted for her to move.

  Natalie stayed where she was and kept her grip on Ahmed’s shirt, continuing a tug-of-war with a man who, even wounded, seemed to have enormous strength. Then an even louder shot. Closer. Natalie jumped back, and as she did, Ahmed plummeted to the ground below. His attacker landed right beside him.

  From below, Natalie and all who by now had reached the library heard a horrifying fizzing sound. A glance downward—Ahmed and Seth Masud—both brothers were splayed out in shallow water. Violent convulsions stirred the water. Jerking. More sizzling. She heard running footsteps descending the stairs behind her.

  “Hurry,” she heard herself call. “Please—”

  A few more lurches and shudders, then both bodies went still. Heat seemed to rise. “Electrocution …”

  Natalie heard Nicole’s scream as she reached the edge of the decorative pool below. Painfully aware of Rob’s body, inert on the stairs, Natalie was careful to avoid stumbling and tempted to simply stop, stay there, on the steps, with him. But she needed to be with Nicole.

  As she ran toward the pool under the balcony, Natalie heard Berk shout, “Get back from the water! There’s live current. Cut electricity! Confirm—”

  Nicole stood at the edge. Natalie reached for her sister—but in that instant, Berk’s men restrained them both.

  “Call an ambulance,” Nicole screamed. “Now! Hurry!”

  Natalie heard Mohamed say, “No emergency transport today. All police, fire, and paramedics in the city on riot alert.”

  A shout went out in Arabic.

  “Electric is off,” Mohamed said. Several Masud security—all armed—jumped in to pull Ahmed and Seth out of the shallow water. The bodies of both brothers were still and gray. Lifeless.

  Nicole had pulled away from Berk’s agent and was already on her knees, starting CPR on Ahmed.

  “Mohamed, do you have a defibrillator?” Natalie asked, eyeing Seth, realizing that she had to try to save him—the man who’d murdered her husband.

  “No. No defibrillator.”

  “We need to get them to a hospital.” By now Natalie had documented no respiration, no pulse, and had started chest compressions—futile, she knew.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie saw one of the Masud security men, rifle raised, take aim at Mohamed. Then she saw Berk, unhesitatingly fire; the man staggered and dropped to the ground. He was alive, squirming on the ground. She saw the stunned look on Mohamed’s face. She went back to her methodical CPR moves—all the action took place over a few seconds.

  When she heard Berk yell, “I figured I owe you,” she looked back up. She saw Mohamed pivot on a dime—too fast, she thought, for a guy his size.

  “Tebu, you traitor.” Mohamed fired point blank at the man on the ground. “This one’s for Jafari.” Then Mohamed called back to Berk, “Thank you!”

  Natalie continued the CPR routine as Berk went to Nicole’s side, bent down, and asked, “Want me to take over?”

  Nicole did not reply, just kept up the chest compressions and intermittent breathing.

  Mohamed had stepped to Natalie’s side. She dutifully kept pumping, but with no drugs, no electric shock, and the massive voltage that had electrocuted Ahmed and Seth, she had no hope. But she didn’t expect the vicious kick that Mohamed delivered to Seth’s flank.

  “Burn in hell,” Mohamed said.

  Five minutes later, Natalie stopped. No pulse. No respiration. No paramedic help. Seth Masud was dead. And so was Ahmed, she knew, but Nicole, who’d let Berk spell her for a few minutes, did not seem ready to stop CPR on her husband—to acknowledge that he was dead.

  Natalie went to her. “Let me take over,” she said. “It’ll be easier. You pull yourself together and go find Alex.”

  Natalie noticed the blood that had soaked the ground by Nicole. She’d all but forgotten that Nicole had been shot on that staircase. The staircase where her own beloved Rob lay dead. With a vengeance, Natalie picked up the heart compressions as Berk helped steady Nicole. She did pause long enough to say, “Have Mom take care of that leg.”

  * * *

  Natalie felt Berk’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Natalie, it’s time to stop,” he said. “Now. Soon the police will be here. Even if the city is on riot duty, they’ll still respond when the Masuds call for help. The post-funeral crowd here makes it even more problematic—even though the pool area has been cordoned off.”

  “Rob,” she said, tears flowing. “Seth Masud killed Rob.”

  “Natalie, I am so very sorry.”

  “I left him alone on the stairs.”

  “We have to leave him there until the police come.”

  “Berk.” She knew she sounded accusing, but … “Where were you? You told us to get Alex and that we’d leave right away. Then we never saw you. Or your men. Ahmed went to the funeral. And Mom and I stayed with Mr. Masud …”

  “The man I shot—the one Mohamed killed—is Tebu. On Seth’s orders, he orchestrated Jafari’s car bomb death. And Seth had planned to kill Ahmed, too. That’s why he took him to the library with the balcony over the pool that Mrs. Masud had redesigned. He’d shorted out the new lighting system so an easy fall over the balcony would be fatal—he hadn’t planned on taking the tumble himself.”

  “Where were you?” Natalie repeated.

  “Tebu’s men were waiting for us. The minute the family went inside they hit us with stun guns, injected us with sedating drugs, restrained us in the garage. You can thank Rob’s friend Yusef Azer for finally listening to Mohamed and flying him here in a Liberian jet to free us and …”

  “… Too late for Rob … and Ahmed,” Natalie said. Now, she had to say good-bye to her husband. She found her mother and Tim sitting on the steps, watching over Rob, his body crumpled and bloody. They both rose when she approached, hugged her and cried with her. Back when she’d lost her first real love, Trey Standish, during her senior year in high school—her mother had mourned with her then, too, as had Tim.

  Berk would leave them to their vigil in the remaining moments, probably brief, before the Egyptian authorities arrived to ask a great many questions. The authorities, Berk added, had not had a good day in Cairo. They might not be on their best behavior when faced with the mayhem that had occurred at the Masuds’ residence. Two sons of the prominent family had been electrocuted under bizarre circumstances. A car bomb incident that same week had killed a third son. One of the family’s security cadre had been fatally shot while on duty, and an American guest of the politically connected family also had been shot to death on the estate. Four victims, two crime scenes, Berk summarized—both contaminated beyond forensic usefulness. Might the Masud connections smooth out the situation for the Nelson family at this terrible, painful time for them? Berk hoped their family would be spared bureaucratic indignities; depending on who showed up from the cops, he told them, any pressure he could politely apply, of course, he would.

  Natalie thought of her sister, of Ahmed, of Alex, and of how
Rob had so eagerly set off to right a wrong, to return a small boy to his mother. “Why, Mom?” she asked. “Why again? Rob was such a good, good man.”

  Laura’s classic mother-gesture: she enveloped Natalie in a prolonged hug and said nothing. There were no words. Mom’s and Tim’s presence, her only comfort. For that, Natalie was grateful.

  * * *

  By evening, the streets of Cairo teemed with protestors demonstrating their rage against the Mubarak regime, chanting, hefting banners, hoisting children on their shoulders, lighting fires. Police in riot gear surrounded Tahrir Square, the epicenter of the revolt, but were hard put to cope with demonstrators streaming in from every neighborhood. The Facebook revolt was proving a success on the ground. The crowd numbers exceeded even the organizers’ expectations, certainly taking the police by surprise. Their government’s best-laid plans were inadequate—the troops weren’t ready for the size or the esprit de corps of the protest. Events in the streets of Cairo already were making news across the world.

  * * *

  Natalie sat by Rob for a long while until the local police banned all civilians from the Masud estate crime zone. She thought of their brief life together, of his daughter, Leslie, how she would have to learn the horrible news. But mostly Natalie thought about the rest of her life—would she be able to make it without Rob? Yes, she had her job, but could she do it without his moral support? Could she do anything, including breathe in and breathe out, without Rob? She wasn’t sure.

  Nicole, too, had lost a husband, but Ahmed, by kidnapping their child, had caused this whole tragic chain of events. And, Nicole had Alex. She had a reason to live, to get up every morning, to face each day.

  After they left Rob, Mom and Tim took Natalie to the grand foyer in the main building of the compound. There she found Merit and Osiris. They spoke excellent English, and they seemed to take charge. Nicole had always told her that Merit was the brains of the family—the Masud males, while never crediting her, didn’t hesitate to exploit her smarts—and now, Natalie could see why.

  Though the couple must be grieving the death of Ahmed and Seth, they showed no emotion. They treated all the Nelsons respectfully, inviting them to stay the night—with the city in chaos, hotels would be inaccessible.

  Mom and Tim accepted on behalf of the group. They arranged a call to the brothers via Mike’s law firm’s secure line. Mom and Tim did most of the talking. Natalie and Nicole, too shocked to speak. They let Alex participate for a few minutes before sending him to the playroom with Neema. Ahmed’s youngest sister was the only one Nicole trusted with her child. Natalie knew she must accept her tragic duty. She had to call Leslie, tell her about her father’s death, and without delay. All but Nicole left her to do it. Nicole held her hand, supporting her as she made the most painful call of her life.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  FRIDAY, JANUARY 28, 2011

  PHILADELPHIA

  A DAY AFTER the murders of Ahmed Masud and Rob Johnson, Ahmed was buried in Giza, Egypt.

  Nicole went to the mosque where Ahmed and Seth were laid out side by side in matching caskets, and the imam intoned the traditional prayers for the dead. Merit had arranged every detail. Nicole, naturally, had deferred to her on customs—except one: that they dress Ahmed’s body in a Western suit, rather than a jellabiya. Among the last things her husband had told her was that he would return to Philadelphia; the suit was her symbolic way to reflect Ahmed’s decision.

  During the two hours she was at the funeral, Nicole had left Alex in her mother’s care. Otherwise, he’d been continuously within her sight. She told him Daddy was in heaven, but no way to tell what that meant to the five-year-old. At least, in the Masud home, he’d been surrounded by attentive grown-ups. Once they got back to Philadelphia, she’d fill his days with visits to his cousins.

  * * *

  During the last two days, Mubarak had cut off Egyptians’ access to the Internet. He’d arranged arrests, beatings, imprisonment for so-called “enemies of the State”—particularly from the media. Among those he jailed was the outspoken critic of the Mubarak regime, Mohamed ElBaradei, the former UN diplomat and Nobel Peace Prize winner. Cairo seethed with riots. Police stations and government party headquarters burned. Mubarak had ordered the Army to crack down harder on the demonstrators. Nicole didn’t know if people had been killed, but hundreds were injured. Mohamed told her there’d been a massive explosion near the Egyptian Museum …

  A curfew tightened the city. Travel, even by private plane, was erratic. Until Rob’s body had been released, none of the Nelsons even had talked of leaving Egypt. Then, after two days of badgering, officials suddenly took the path of least resistance. With Cairo airport virtually shut down, the Nelson contingent detoured to Alexandria and flew out of Egypt with Rob’s body.

  * * *

  A total of fourteen Nelson family members, counting Alex’s beloved cousins, met the Keystone Falcon 2000 when it landed in Philadelphia.

  A black hearse awaited to take Rob’s body to the funeral home where they’d meet Leslie and her fiancé. When Alex asked what was in the big box, Nicole told him the truth. “Uncle Rob’s body.” When he asked where Daddy’s box was, she told him back in Egypt with his mommy and daddy. “But Daddy’s in Heaven,” he said. Then he went off to play with his cousins. Did he realize he would never again see Daddy?

  The family arranged themselves somehow in the waiting vehicles and left the airport. The plan was to take Natalie directly to the funeral home where her stepdaughter would be waiting; Mom and Tim would go with her. The others would all go to Natalie’s house. She had the biggest place, and that’s where the brothers had hunkered down when this nightmare started. And besides, Natalie would need them the most.

  Nicole needed to postpone thinking about Ahmed. She needed time to absorb reality, to sort through her complicated feelings toward him. As her brothers tried to keep her engaged in casual conversation, Nicole only could think about the little boy sitting beside her. She needed to establish a nurturing life for him. Get him back into the school that he loved. She needed to go back to work. Manage the practice on her own or bring in a partner or join another group. Would she keep the house? Could she and Natalie move in together? Support one another. Natalie had told her she already knew she couldn’t bear to live in the big house Rob had built.

  Alex was pointing at the snowflakes that had started to fall on the windshield. “Maybe we can make a snowman at Aunt Natalie’s house.”

  “Hope we get enough,” Mike said. “I’d like to set up a snowman building contest!”

  Thank God for my brothers. I just hope they can help Natalie get through her grief. Going back to work would help her deal with bereavement. Her drug Zomera was already back on the market. Natalie should take pride—her drug would mean so many prolonged lives—among them Ahmed’s father’s—and even many cures.

  And I go back to making women beautiful.

  At that moment, Nicole knew. She would close her practice. Use her skill to repair disfiguring, debilitating facial injuries and birth defects. Ahmed was not here anymore, to talk her out of it. Would she miss him? Desperately, she knew. They had been such perfect partners for so long, until he … betrayed her …