Vanished: A Beautiful Mess Series Novel

by T. K. Leigh

  “I’m going to put my gun on the ground.” He slowly lowered his pistol, pushing it away from him. Raising his hands in surrender, he continued, “Let Olivia hand me the baby and I’ll order them to lower their weapons.”

  Olivia met his eyes, slightly shaking her head as she pulled the bundle closer to her chest.

  “Fine,” Aliyah hissed.

  He gave Olivia an encouraging look, trying to tell her with his eyes that it would all be okay, that no harm would fall on the baby, that she would hold him again when this was all over. Reluctantly, she pulled the baby away from her chest and Alexander took him from her arms, instinctively patting the crying baby’s bottom to try to soothe him as he handed him to one of the FBI agents.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Aliyah warned as the agent headed toward the front door. “No one is leaving this house. You take one step out that door with that baby and I slash her throat.” She held the knife closer. “I’ve held up my end of the bargain, now tell your men to lower their weapons.”

  Alexander looked at the FBI agents, giving them a small nod. They immediately lowered their weapons and placed them on the floor, nudging them across the room toward Aliyah.

  “Let’s talk about this,” he said. “I know you don’t want to do this. If you did, you would have already killed her and the baby.”

  “Don’t assume you know anything about me!” she hissed. “All you Americans are exactly the same! You think by coming into our country, trying to impose your western ideals and culture on ours, we’ll all hug you and praise you with thanks? Well, I’ve got news for you, Mr. Burnham. Our customs were around for centuries before yours and will thrive long after yours have perished.”

  “Your customs?” he repeated, raising his brow. He’d witnessed those very customs first-hand. Many of the people he had met during his time overseas were friendly and thankful to have them there. But there were always those few, a very vocal minority, who had nothing but disdain for the western presence in their country. “You’re not trying to protect your culture or traditions. You’re trying to protect what you deem to be important. Your laws have evolved over the years, giving women more freedom. But, apparently, you don’t like that idea, even though it’s clear you’ve benefited from it.”

  “Have I benefited from it? Yes, I have, but I’ve only used my position to do everything in my power to protect the traditions too many people have forgotten about. Do you know how many families I’ve been able to reunite because of my ability to infiltrate the ministry? Countless! And it wasn’t until Landon and his pal, Rahima, decided to take it one step further and hide these women, even from the ministry, that I knew I had to do more.”

  “So you killed Rahima and begged your superiors at the ministry to allow you to take her place?” Alexander responded, all of it making sense.

  “Our cause is growing, Mr. Burnham, and you can’t stop us.”

  “Maybe I can’t. But I can do everything within my power to make sure these women…” He gestured to the women huddled together, watching with trepidation. “And everyone else in their shoes never have to live in fear of your traditions again.”

  “You don’t get to play God!” she bellowed, becoming more irate, as if she were on the brink of losing everything she had worked for. There was panic in her eyes, but also fear. This was bigger than Alexander thought.

  “And you do? You’re just a pawn in their game, too, Aliyah,” he said, his voice becoming passionate, trying to play on her own distress. “I know about Maleek.” He stepped toward her. “Of course, you probably knew him best as Aazar. He was your brother, wasn’t he?”

  Her eyes widened, her mouth agape. “How—”

  “And they made you kill him. Why? For what? They don’t care about you. Or your brother. They brainwashed you, made you think you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of once the Islamic Union extended its rule around the globe. Isn’t that right? Probably even guaranteed you a portion of the bounty these girls’ families had placed on each of their heads, correct?” He had heard the story a few times before. People turning to a rogue extremist group to seek so-called justice in exchange for a large fee, all under the guise of some higher morality.

  “They didn’t—”

  “It’s a bit duplicitous, don’t you think?” he interrupted. “You stand there and claim our western way of life is wrong, that it goes against everything you’ve been taught, yet what’s your big motivator here? Money. What would have happened if you didn’t get the job with the Women’s Ministry in Afghanistan?” he pushed, staring into her eyes.

  “You speak of these people as if they’re monsters. They’re not! Yes, they may have agreed to help families enforce certain traditions for a small fee, but they’re still people who believe in a cause, who see the wrongs in the world and want to right them, who help people—”

  “Help people?” he scoffed. “Tell me how terrorizing your own countrymen is helping them! Tell me how murdering innocent men, women, and children is helpful! Tell me how being forced to kill your brother, your own flesh and blood, is righting the wrongs in the world!”

  “Because!” Her face grew red, the vein in her forehead throbbing as she held the knife closer to Olivia’s throat. “It had to be done. He failed on his mission and needed to face the consequences. He brought dishonor on me. He was given one assignment! One! All he was supposed to do was find these girls by any means necessary, but my brother always had a morbid curiosity with death, even as a young boy. We could never have any pets because they all ended up dead by his hand. After recruiting him to the cause when he was arrested, I thought he would have gotten his fill of bloodlust, but I was wrong. He drew attention to himself by killing all those men and women! He needed to pay for this serious misstep. I know what I’ve done, but I have faith I’ll be rewarded. Maybe not in this life, but certainly in the next. I’ve had time to make my peace with Allah.” She narrowed her gaze at him, a sinister smile crawling across her lips. “Has your wife?”

  In a flash, she raised the blade, swiftly bringing it back toward Olivia’s throat. Without a weapon, Alexander rushed toward her. A gunshot rang out as screams filled the room. He feared they hadn’t eliminated all of Aliyah’s men and one had made his final stand.

  Disoriented, he looked over his shoulder toward the hallway leading to the basement, letting out a small breath when he saw Moretti standing in the shadows, his pistol raised. He looked back at Aliyah, blood staining her shoulder where the bullet had entered. She had stumbled, releasing her grasp on Olivia.

  Clutching Olivia’s arm, he pushed her toward Moretti, keeping her out of harm’s way. Able to regain her footing, Aliyah charged toward Alexander, the blade raised over her head. Reacting quickly, he bent down and ripped his own knife out of his leg holster just as she approached, running right into the blade, piercing her stomach.

  Surprise crossed her face as her knife fell from her grasp, the clanging of it hitting the ground echoing in the room. Alexander lowered her to the floor, keeping his knife firmly planted in her stomach. His face reddened, his mind a rage-filled cloud. She deserved to suffer, to feel excruciating pain.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander caught Moretti’s gaze as FBI agents escorted Olivia and the rest of the women from the house. Passing him a knowing look, Moretti nodded, then tore his eyes from Alexander.

  “Clear the room!” he ordered.

  The few remaining FBI agents gave him an inquisitive look, their brows furrowing.

  “Now!” Moretti demanded.

  Looking from their boss to Alexander, his knife still dug into Aliyah’s stomach as she struggled to breathe, they nodded, then retreated from the living room and out the front door, Moretti following behind them, leaving Alexander and Aliyah alone.

  Returning his attention to Aliyah, his nostrils flared, his chest heaving as he twisted the knife piercing her stomach. He grunted as her eyes widened and she let out a noiseless gasp.

  “Not so much fun
when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it?” he hissed.

  “I’m not scared of dying,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. “I lost everything years ago. My parents. My home. Everything. Because of you Americans. You came into our country promising democracy, a world free from terror, but I have news for you. Democracy doesn’t work everywhere, Mr. Burnham. There will always be people who see what’s wrong with the world and will sacrifice their lives to make it better.”

  “Better?” He clenched his jaw. “How has anything you’ve done made the world a better place? All you’ve done is murder innocent people.”

  “Your friend, Landon, said the same thing before I killed him,” she strained.

  “That was you?” Alexander asked, his expression faltering.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “He never even expected it. Didn’t even put up a fight. He was so thankful I warned him about the explosion, he willingly came with me. Stupid, stupid man.”

  His back tense, he trembled with hatred. “Where is his body?”

  “You expect me to remember where I buried one insignificant little man?” she scoffed, the unbearable pain she was enduring evident on her face.

  Alexander twisted the knife again, and she let out a grunt, gasping for air. “He wasn’t insignificant. Now, tell me!”

  Her face scrunched up in agony as Alexander dug the knife deeper.

  “I can do this for hours. Bring you to the brink of death, then pull back. The longer you refuse to tell me what I need to know, the more pain I’ll inflict on you. That’s a promise,” he growled.

  “You wouldn’t.” She swallowed hard, the color leaving her complexion. “I know you. You have too much respect for law and order to break the rules.”

  A rabid expression crossed his face and he leaned into her. “You don’t deserve the protection of our laws,” he hissed, twisting the knife, causing Aliyah to scream out.

  “In the village of Malistan,” she breathed finally. “At the edge of town, there’s a roped off area, warning the residents of possible landmines. That’s where his body is.” A devious look passed her face. “If you’re lucky, you may find his body and his head.”

  Ripping the knife from her stomach, he reeled back, his eyes wild. He didn’t do enough to come to Landon’s aid after the explosion, but he had an opportunity to make it right, to make sure justice for Landon’s and Mischa’s deaths would be served. He wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers again. Alexander would never forgive himself if Aliyah ever saw the light of day again, only to terrorize another innocent child.

  Letting out a loud grunt, he brought the knife back down, piercing her heart. She clutched onto his hands holding the knife, blood trickling from her mouth, then her body went limp.

  He remained completely still as he stared at her dark, lifeless eyes, his hands still holding onto the knife with all his strength. Taking a breath, he closed his eyes, relief that it was all over flowing through him.

  “I’m sorry, Landon,” he whispered, taking a moment to mourn his fallen friend.

  On shaky limbs, he stood up, finally able to fully take in what had happened here over the past few hours. Two of his female agents who had been stationed to watch over the safe house lay slumped in the corner of the room, a pool of blood surrounding them. Selena was just a few feet from them, her eyes still open.

  Pausing, he walked toward her body and knelt beside it. She had been through hell trying to escape the horrors she faced in her home country. This was supposed to be her new start, her chance at freedom. It wasn’t supposed to end like this for her, for any of them.

  With a heavy sigh, he smoothed his hand over her eyelids, closing them, then stood up and headed toward the front door. Moretti waited just outside. Without saying a word, they exchanged a look, then Alexander continued down the steps, crime scene technicians hurrying into the house to begin their work.

  “Daddy!” a voice yelled. Alexander swung his head in that direction, his eyes falling on Melanie clutched in Olivia’s embrace.

  Relief washed over him as she dashed toward him and flung herself against him. He lifted her into his arms, kissing the top of her head, and walked toward where Olivia stood comforting Landon. Resting his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes, thankful to have his family back. For too long, he took them for granted…took everyone for granted. Never again.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  December 24

  10:30 AM

  OLIVIA AND ALEXANDER HELD Melanie’s hands as they walked up a cleared path. The sun was shining, and there was a happy and joyful feeling in the air all around town, children counting down the hours until Santa’s big visit tonight. Alexander usually loved celebrating the holidays with his daughter and the rest of his family. However, this year, it was bittersweet knowing one very important part of their family would no longer be at the table, would no longer be sitting on the couch by the tree, would no longer be doting on Melanie as if she were his own granddaughter.

  In the four days that had passed since they were able to put an end to all the ugliness, Olivia and Alexander had been asked and answered more questions by Homeland Security and the FBI than he cared to think about. Even the Secretary of Homeland Security had shown an interest in the girls’ futures. Alexander didn’t know what was going to happen to them, but for now, they were still safe, returning to the lives they led before Mischa’s death as best they could, given everything they had been through.

  He couldn’t help but see his wife in a whole new light, feeling a sense of pride in everything she’d done to save these women’s lives. If it weren’t for her, they would have probably all perished in their home country. Instead, they led the lives they always dreamed of, all because she did what she believed to be the right thing, regardless of the consequences. Something he should have been doing all along.

  “I feel like I’ve spent all my time lately at churches or in cemeteries,” Olivia muttered, meeting Alexander’s eyes as they followed the long parade of people up to the open-air chapel in the center of the cemetery swarming with people. A lot of faces were familiar, many of them agents and employees of the security company. But there were some he had never seen before — men and women Martin had served with as a Marine. Decades had passed, but they still found it in their hearts to come and pay their final respects.

  “That’s because we have,” Alexander replied with a heavy sigh.

  This marked the third funeral in so many days, having already said their goodbyes to Mischa and Rayne. The two funerals had been on opposite ends of the spectrum. Mischa’s funeral had been a joyful event, a celebration of her life and accomplishments, attended by several hundred people, all lives she’d touched in one way or another during her time on earth.

  Rayne’s was in stark contrast to that. Besides Olivia and Alexander, her parents were the only other people in attendance. It made him realize how one event could have a devastating impact on a person’s entire life trajectory. As he watched them lower her casket next to the son she had lost after only being on this planet for a few hours, he thanked his lucky stars for everything he had.

  When Olivia insisted on attending the funeral, he thought she had lost her mind, given everything Rayne had done, but she reminded Alexander that Rayne wasn’t to blame. She was a woman at the lowest point in her life, eager to do anything she could to be happy again. She was depressed, vulnerable, and easily manipulated. He couldn’t help but think if he had pushed harder, if he had insisted on seeing her, she would have still been alive today.

  “This way, Mr. Burnham,” one of his agents said as they approached a police perimeter.

  Several agents escorted the family through the throng of mourners, doing their best to shield them from the cameras and reporters. Alexander shook his head at the audacity. Some reporters would do anything for a story, even showing up to a funeral just to get a soundbite or a few seconds of footage to air on the six o’clock news.

  Over the past few days, the
y hadn’t been able to leave their house without another reporter shoving a microphone in one of their faces. It took all his resolve not to snap a few of their necks when they began targeting Melanie, asking her questions no eight-year-old should ever have to answer. He had always shielded her from the spotlight his position put him under. Now, she was front and center of a news story. The public wanted to hear from her, but Alexander wasn’t ready for her to talk about what she’d gone through. He doubted he ever would be.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he approached the front row of chairs in the small chapel. A beautiful mahogany casket sat in the center of the room, an American flag draped over it.

  “Ma,” he said as she stood to greet him. He wrapped her in his arms, planting a kiss on both cheeks. She met his eyes and they shared a look.

  He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how he wished he could turn back the clock and prevent this from happening, but no amount of apologies and condolences would heal her heart. For the second time in her life, his mother was forced to bury the man she loved. Alexander hated the pain he saw in her eyes. He prayed Olivia never had to experience that.

  “I know, Alex,” she said, her chin quivering.

  He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She dabbed at her eyes.

  “He was a good man,” she said with a shaky voice. “He loved you like a son.” Reaching up, she tousled his hair. He caught her hand in his, squeezing it. “In many ways, he was more like a father to you than your own dad.”

  Alexander nodded. He never really knew his father that well. He had some memories of spending time with him during his younger years, but his work monopolized his time later on. Martin was always there when his father wasn’t, checking on Alexander’s mom, making sure they were all okay. Alexander knew it was his job, but after a while, even if his father never ordered him to check in on the family, Martin still would be there.