The bird slowly settled on the desert floor. The door was open and two men gestured to them. House gathered Daisy and Sarah and started for the safety of the helicopter. They were only ten feet away when it exploded. Daisy and House fell on top of Sarah as a screaming band of Bedouins riding horses and camels poured from behind the nearby hills. An ancient Land Rover cleared the hills and skidded to a stop beside House. An older Bedouin wearing white robes and a white turban climbed out of the Rover carrying a bazooka from World War Two. A thin stream of smoke still drifted from the barrel.
House leaped to his feet and lunged at the Bedouin. He’d just destroyed one of the Company’s helicopters and killed the pilot and the team inside. Two more Bedouins leaped off their horses and grabbed House under the arms. House growled and lunged for the older man. The two holding him struggled. Three more men had to join them to subdue him. House stopped fighting and checked for Daisy and Sarah hoping against hope they’d escaped.
He saw Daisy with her arms around Sarah trying to protect her. They were separated. Daisy was tossed on the back of a camel and Sarah was tossed on a horse behind a Bedouin fighter. House was dragged to the Land Rover and shoved into the back seat, as the entire band closed ranks around the old vehicle and headed west.
The band of nomads tied House’s hands behind his back but didn’t cover his eyes or bag his head. He twisted in his seat to check on Daisy and saw she too was bound. The Bedouins knew her for a warrior. Sarah was not tied up. She clung to the man in front of her, easily riding behind him on the horse’s rump as though she’d been doing it all her life.
* * * *
Sarah knew how to ride. After the shock of their capture wore off, she began enjoying the feel of a horse under her again. Her father had sent her to riding academy in England and in Israel. When they were in places like Japan and Turkey, she still found somewhere to ride.
The rider in front of her was a young man. He made rude comments about her and Daisy to a companion in Sudanese Arabic. Sarah could easily follow it. She considered making an equally rude comment about the young man’s family and decided not to let them know she understood what they were saying.
The camel Daisy rode on was led by her young Bedouin’s companion. She glanced over at Daisy and saw they’d secured her by tying her hands in front of her. This was apparently so she could hang on. Poor Daisy’s face was bruised and her lip swollen. She’d tried to protect Sarah and received a beating as a result. The Bedouins recognized Daisy as a warrior. They hadn’t tied up Sarah so she figured they didn’t consider her a threat which was classic Muslim behavior; little respect for women. Well they’d underestimated her.
The ride wore on until dawn. Sarah fell asleep with her arms around her captor and her face against his smelly robe. He reeked of goat and sweat. When the horse abruptly stopped, she woke up. Her entire body was stiff and the insides of her legs badly chafed. Why had she worn the dress?
They’d arrived at the nomads’ camp. Tents sprouted out of the arid plain. Behind the tents, hundreds of camels moaned, groaned and grazed off the sparse vegetation. They were a noisy and constantly moving sea of creatures. As soon as Sarah saw the camels, she realized who these people were. They were the Rizeigat, a group of Sudanese nomads disenfranchised by war and their own government. They raised camels.
This seemed pretty far east for them to wander. But Bedouins knew no boundaries or borders. They’d traveled freely through different countries for centuries.
She fell off the horse when the Bedouin in front of her dismounted. Her legs were so stiff and sore, she couldn’t hang on. From her position on the ground beside the tired horse, she searched for House and Daisy. She spotted House being dragged out of the only vehicle they seemed to possess, and a Bedouin warrior pushing Daisy into one of the tents.
Her Bedouin, she now knew his name was Gadim, lifted her up and assisted her to the same tent into which Daisy had disappeared. Once inside, he pushed her and left. She fell onto a thin carpet. Daisy lifted her up, dragged her to a corner and pulled her close. Daisy’s hands were free. They sat together and watched as the Bedouin women went in and out of the tent into a rear area as they prepared a meal for the returning men.
When they left, carrying huge trays of rice, flat bread and some kind of meat, Sarah hugged Daisy. “They will feed House,” she said. “But not us. At least not until everyone else has eaten.”
“What?” Daisy said. “Why?”
“These people are Sudanese nomads. They’ve been fighting a war amongst themselves for over twenty years. The Sudanese government actually armed them to help roust rebel insurgents. But that fell apart and now they use the weapons against each other.”
Daisy shook her head. “What’s that got to do with us not being fed?”
Sarah smiled. “These people are Muslims and we are women. Women eat last and we’re captives which makes it even worse.”
“So they’ll feed House even before the women of the tribe get to eat?”
Sarah nodded. “Of course. I can speak their language. The one leading your camel said you had very nice breasts and he’d like to make you one of his wives.”
Daisy snorted. “Good luck with that. I’d whack off his protruding parts and feed them to him.”
“We need to get out of here. I’m not sure what they have planned for us, but these are not Somali pirates. They don’t ransom captives.”
“I saw them looting the bird. They grabbed everything that didn’t burn. We might be an accident.”
“What?”
“They were only after the helicopter. We were just there. You know kind of an opportunistic find.”
Sarah nodded. “Then maybe they will ransom us. As far east as they’ve traveled, they could have some contact with Somalis. Maybe they’ve learned white people have value alive.”
“I sure as fuck hope so.”
Sarah clucked. “Language like that will get you punished among Muslims. They don’t curse or swear and rarely drink alcoholic beverages.”
“How do you know their language?”
“I know lots of languages. There’s not much to do locked behind embassy doors when you’re a girl. They speak a kind of Arabic. I can understand most of what they say.”
The women trooped into the tent carrying empty trays. They went out through the rear entrance and returned with more food. The small group sat down to eat. Sarah listened to them talk. Mostly it was about their children, their husbands and where they would go tomorrow. One commented on the captured stranger and they all began an excited spate of speculation about what the men planned to do with the captives. Their ideas ranged from torturing and killing him, to ransoming him to making him a tribal member.
When the women finished eating, they tossed the remains of their meal on one pewter plate and handed it to Sarah. Sarah held it without touching the food until all the women had left the tent. The sun had risen. She saw the bright light of day through the tent flap when they left.
She offered Daisy the food. “They were talking about us,” she said around a bite of what she easily recognized as camel meat.”
“What kind of meat is this?” Daisy asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
She nodded. “Probably right. So what did they say about us?”
“They saw House and think he’s pretty hot…for a white man. They were speculating on the size of his man parts.”
Daisy snorted. “That it?”
“No, they think the tribe elders will contact someone they know who might pay for him. The tribe is very poor. They’re running from war in Sudan with the Misseriya, another tribe of nomads. That’s why they are here. Their tribal elders are tired of fighting. The Rizeigat seem to think we’re in Kenya, by the way, or at least that’s what the elders think.”
“The who?”
“The Rizeigat. That’s who these people are. But the women aren’t sure whether they will ransom us or not. They believe the men will want you and me and ke
ep us. They believe they might ransom House.”
“But not us?”
Sarah nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of rice. “We’re just women. We have no value.”
Chapter 8
House sat comfortably among the elders of the Rizeigat. He knew who these people were just not why they were in Ethiopia. They thought they were in Kenya, but House knew better. He’d seen the road to Mogadishu. It skirted Bale Mountain Park connecting eastern Ethiopia to Mogadishu on the Somali coast. Most of the road was a dirt track across miles of arid desert, but he’d traveled it before and recognized it. Kenya was close. A piece of the country jutted into Somalia and Ethiopia.
One of the men brought the water pipe out of a corner and loaded it with tobacco. They smoked it from tubes connected to the body of the pipe. They passed around the tubes. When House was offered one, he gratefully took it and sucked in a huge lungful of apple-scented tobacco. One hit off a water pipe was like smoking a pack of cigarettes. House enjoyed the occasional cigar. He sat back and let the tobacco work its magic.
The men were relaxed, laughing and talking about the day. They’d scavenged parts and some gasoline for their truck off the helicopter along with weapons and the two big packs House and Daisy had carried. House hadn’t forgotten about the helicopter and its crew, but he felt it was important to make friends with the nomads. He spoke their language reasonably well. It was just a bastard variation of Arabic. When they began talking about disposing of him, he spoke up.
They were shocked to hear him speak their language. The surprise passed swiftly. He was a man after all. “My name is House and I can probably get you anything you want from the company I work for if you let us go.”
The leader’s name was Masaad Abdalla, House had already picked up on that. Abdalla leaned forward and blew out a huge gust of tobacco smoke. “What is your name?”
“My name is Dane Wolfheart,” he said in Arabic. “My friends call me House.”
Abdalla called him Bayt, which was the Arabic word for house, more specifically the Egyptian Arabic word for house. “Bayt, how can you do this for us?”
“I just have to ask. My people will find me. We’re fitted with tracking devices.”
“All of you?”
House shrugged instead of answering. There was no point in picking out Sarah as different from Daisy and him. “Make me a list of the things you need.” House took another hit off the water pipe and blew it out slowly. He felt very mellow. The Rizeigat were desperate or they wouldn’t be this far from their home.
“We are so poor,” Abdalla said. “We need many things.”
“Why are you far from your home grazing lands?”
“There is a new kind of war in Sudan. Outsiders have come in and caused much trouble. They bring new weapons and demands of our government. They have no patience with the old ways. We have traveled freely for the ages and would continue to do so, but they wish to restrict us to certain areas. It is the same with our ancient enemies, the Misseriya. They are forced further and further south with their cattle. We came here.”
“Who are these outsiders?” House felt like he already knew the answer but needed to be sure.
“They call themselves Muslims and fighters of the jihad, al Qaida. But they are only after money and a homeland for themselves. They don’t care about the people, only killing.”
House knew al Qaida was making a push in the Sudan and in Nigeria. He and his team had made a run there earlier in the year and lost many of their men. It was a dangerous and dark area with few allies. He felt sorry for these people, innocent of any wrongdoing but losing everything beneath the heavy feet of al Qaida.
“If you let me and my people go, we’ll return with supplies for you and your families. You’re in Ethiopia. I’m sure the government understands and sympathizes, but who knows how they’ll react. You really need to head back to the Sudan.”
Abdalla frowned. “I will not willingly take my family and my tribe back there. We will all be killed.”
House checked out the assembled males of the tribe. They were hanging on his every word, desperation clearly shining from their eyes. He had no idea how he could help them. Grazing lands in Kenya were limited to the southern part of the country. In North Kenya there were a lot of game preserves and wildlife sanctuaries, more of the same in southern Ethiopia. The government would freak if they saw this band of camel herders trekking through game sanctuaries. House still couldn’t understand how they had managed to get here without being shot by wardens as poachers. But this group of Bedouins had a legitimate problem. “I’ll talk to my bosses and see what I can do.”
“How do we know we can trust you?” Abdalla asked.
House pointed to his chest. “Because my heart and my words are true.”
A sudden burst of automatic weaponry from outside set the camels to honking and running. The men leaped to their feet. “We are under attack,” Abdalla shouted.
The men began to pass out rifles. House saw his M-4, his vest and his pistol.
“Give me my weapons. I’ll fight.”
Abdullah checked with the men. They nodded and one of them from the rear of the tent tossed House his gear. He shrugged on his plates and checked the magazine of his rifle. He held a finger to his lips and eased to the opening in the tent. Using the barrel of his rifle, he pushed the flap open. A group of men dressed in the black robes of al Qaida were rushing the tent.
House dropped to one knee and opened up, taking out three surprised gunmen. Two shots hit him in the plates. He grunted, sprayed half the attackers with bullets, dropped to the ground and started rolling. The men behind him followed him out of the tent shooting as they emerged. They were armed with older model rifles, but two carried AK-47s. Thank God for the Russians.
When he rolled behind another tent, he started running, crouched low, his weapon in front of him. He found the kitchen tent, opened the flap with the barrel of his rifle and looked inside. Daisy and Sarah saw him, leaped to their feet and ran to him. He stopped Daisy and handed her his pistol. “Looks like al Qaida or al Shebab found us. Sarah go hide with the women. Tell them to lay low and protect the kids.”
Daisy followed him out of the tent. She still had her vest, so she had some protection. He gave her his pistol. They skirted the kitchen tent and came up behind the attackers. Looked like ten of them. House had already killed three and the Rizeigat had taken out three more but at least ten remained.
Daisy opened up on them from behind. She was deadly accurate at this distance and hit two. House dropped to one knee and fired off three quick shots. The attackers had two groups after them now, the Bedouins and him and Daisy. They fired off some wild shots, but decided to run. House handed his weapon to Daisy. “I’m going after them.”
She nodded and he ran back into the kitchen tent. Seconds later, he shot around the side of the tent as a wolf. Daisy stood up intending to look for Sarah and the women. Two of the Bedouin men stared at her and then dropped their gaze. They made no move to recapture her or disarm her. Apparently, House and her fighting to protect them had won them over. She heard screams coming from far away and glanced at the men. They heard nothing. House would make sure none of the attackers ever made it home again.
The men were for the most part unhurt. She noticed two injured but their injuries looked minor. She went looking for Sarah and found her and the women huddled over a large group of children. The kids were all ages. She smiled at Sarah who stood up. “Are they gone?”
“Yeah, and we didn’t lose anyone. One of the men has a nick in his arm and another fell over something and sprained his knee, but the rest are perfect. These guys okay?”
Sarah grabbed her arm. “These people are hungry. We have to help them.”
“I imagine House will handle that,” Daisy said. Her arm tingled where Sarah touched it. She’d been so worried about her. She holstered House’s pistol in her belt, grabbed Sarah in a big hug, lifted her chin and kissed her gently. “I was worried about y
ou.”
“Don’t,” Sarah said. “I don’t want you thinking about me when you’re fighting. You could get hurt.”
“It’ll be hard,” Daisy said.
House returned, shifted and dressed secretly. When he came out of the kitchen tent, he looked satisfied. Daisy envied him. She wanted to run, too. “Did you get them all?”
He nodded and shot her a wolfish grin.
“How did he get them all?” Sarah asked puzzled.
“He went after them. Didn’t you see him run by?” Daisy asked.
“No, I guess I was too worried about the kids.”
House grabbed Daisy’s elbow. “We need to talk.”
Sarah followed. “What? About me? Can I come?”
House allowed her to catch up. “You can listen in.”
They went into the men’s tent. Several of the Bedouins had returned. They frowned when they saw Daisy and Sarah. “Are these your women?” Abdalla asked.
House shrugged as an answer. Sarah punched Daisy and whispered. “He just told that old man we belong to him.”
Daisy lifted one eyebrow. “You’re objecting?”
Sarah dropped her gaze. “No, probably not a good idea.”
House pushed Daisy and Sarah behind him. The two sat in a corner. “You can understand them. Tell me what they’re saying.”
House waved his hand behind his back to hush them as the rest of the men filed into the tent.
* * * *
Sarah knew a lot about the customs of Bedouins. She’d studied their religion. This group from Sudan was a little different but mostly the differences were regional. They lived in an arid area but not desert. The Bedouins of Saudi Arabia and Egypt lived in the desert. Culturally, the two groups were almost the same. They were both Muslims with strong ties to the ancient religious practices of their ancestors.
The Rizeigat revered women warriors and worshipped spirits, believing the spirits of certain animals could possess humans. Even though they revered female warriors, they still adopted the Muslim attitudes toward women. All the females of the tribe wore black robes covering them from head to toe along with heavy veils embroidered with beads. Only when alone among themselves did they remove the veils.
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