The Libra Affair (15 page)

He interrupted her. “So where did you say we were heading?”

“Think of it like this, we're going to take a little road trip across Iran's countryside; if we're lucky we'll get there sometime tomorrow.”

She pulled into the parking lot of the Super Dakkeh grocery store. Before opening her door, she faced him. “Do me a favor?”

“I know, don't do anything stupid.”

Inside the store, she loaded a basket with essentials and headed to the checkout line. There was a television sitting on a shelf in the corner and what she saw next wasn't pretty. It was Ben's face splashed across the screen — minus the set of black, swollen eyes — with a banner running beneath it, labeling him as a wanted person.

No doubt roadblocks were being set up, which meant they had little time to get out of town.

“I don't want to upset you,” she said, getting back into the car, “but the authorities are running your face across the television.”

“What picture?”

“Your passport photo.”

“What a lucky break,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“The bruises,” he explained as he framed his face with his hands. “Makes a pretty good disguise, don't you think?”

“You're insane,” she said as she adjusted the scarf around her face. “In case you haven't noticed, Benny boy, we're not sitting in your bar back home exchanging a few laughs here. Don't think for a minute a cop wouldn't recognize you behind
that mask you're wearing
.”

“Jordan.” His voice changed to a more serious tone. “Don't you know me? Didn't you learn anything about me over this last year we spent together? I always joke when I'm stressed. It's how I cope.”

She knew that. So why was she being so hard on him?

“I'm sorry,” she said. “Let's just get through this, okay?”

• • •

Arriving at the rendezvous point, Jordan pulled alongside Farrokh's car and spoke to him through her window. “The codes,” she said. Her gun was aimed at him below her window. She wasn't taking any chances.

Farrokh got out of his car; he was carrying his gun.

Jordan stared at his weapon.

Farrokh panned the area.

“What's with the gun?” she asked him.

“Insurance,” he said. “The cops are everywhere.”

Jordan slipped her gun inside the sleeve of her dress.

Farrokh handed her a slip of paper.

“You sure they're correct?”

“Positive.” Farrokh didn't flinch, blink, or show any physical signs of lying.

“If anything goes wrong,” she threatened, “there'll be consequences.”

“It won't.”

“You'd better be right.”

“You're as good as in.”

“It's not getting inside that bothers me, Farrokh. I can get in there. I just don't have time to hack a computer system if the codes are wrong.”

“Believe it or not,” he wiped his brow, “I have as much invested in this as you.”

She studied the two strings of numbers, committing them to memory. “Here.” She held the piece of paper to him.

“You better keep it,” he said.

“Take it and get the girl so we can get going.” She shoved the paper in his hand. “Does the girl have anything?”

“One bag.”

Jordan met Farrokh and his daughter at the trunk.

Isbel was crying.

“Go with her,” Farrokh told his daughter.

“No,” the girl cried.

“Come on,” Jordan said, then tore the child from her father's arms.

“I love you,” Farrokh said to Isbel.

“She'll be fine,” Jordan said, then shut the girl's car door.

“See you around, Farrokh.” She put the car in first gear and took off.

Ben spoke to the girl, trying to comfort her.

“She doesn't speak English so you can give it up,” Jordan told Ben.

Isbel continued to sob.

“Say something to her,” Ben said. “Do something.”

Jordan hit the child lock, then changed gears. That was something. They were finally on Highway A-01 and would be out of Tehran in a matter of minutes.

Ben turned around and spoke to the girl. “Isbel, it'll be okay,” he said. “Don't worry, we'll take care of you.” The girl continued to weep.

“She doesn't understand you,” Jordan told him again. “Would you leave her alone?” It wasn't that Jordan wanted to be coldhearted; she just couldn't afford for emotion to interfere with her objectives.

“Where are we taking her?” he asked.

“Turkmenistan.”

“And then what?”

“Drop her off at a hospital.”

“Just drop her off at a hospital. What about her father?”

“What about him?”

“He'll come for her?” Ben asked, concerned.

“Who knows?”

“You're kidding.”

“No, Ben. The deal was to get her out of the country. That's it. Period. Done.”

He glanced back. “How old is she? Twelve, thirteen?”

Jordan looked into the rearview mirror. “I think.”

“So what'll happen to her?”

Jordan shook her head.

“She'll end up on the streets,” he said.

“She'll be alive.”

“Alive, but starving,” he argued.

“It's more than what she's got going for her here.”

“Jordan, that's cruel.”

“She'll find a job.”

“Doing what?”

“Cleaning, cooking, something like that.”

“You mean prostitution.”

She looked at him, expressionless. Of course that was what she meant, only she didn't want to add fire to his already fueled state.

“How can we let that happen?” he said.

“The world's a harsh place. We can't save everyone,” she said. But as soon as she said the words, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. Ben
did
believe everyone could be saved. It was an honorable quality, an attribute she admired in him, but the notion was nothing more than a fairytale.

“Jordan!”

“She'll be fine.” She softened her tone.

“Does she even speak the language of Turkmenistan?”

“I don't know.”

“I'll make a deal with you,” Ben said.

She glanced at him. “I don't really see that you're in any kind of position to be making deals.”

“I'll help you finish whatever it is you're doing, if you'll help the girl get somewhere safe.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” she said, knowing that she was only humoring him.

“I don't know.” He quieted. “Can you get her to America?”

Jordan laughed without reserve. “Please.”

“I'm not joking. Anything's possible.”

“If I could help her, I would. But you've got to realize, some dreams just aren't possible.”

A long silence passed between them. She knew he wasn't going to let it go.

“Would you like me to drive for a while?” he asked in a gentler voice.

“No,” she replied, “but thanks for asking. It might be best if you got some rest. The next twenty-four hours are going to be a bit of a challenge.”

Jordan turned off the ignition.

Ben woke with a start. “Why are we stopping?”

“We're staying here until sunrise,” she replied.

“Here?” He rolled down his window. “Where are we?”

“Caspian Sea,” she told him.

He drew in a long, devouring breath of the moist air. “I can smell the salt in the air, but I don't hear the surf.”

Jordan stretched her arms and legs in front of her. “The water's calm tonight.” She rolled down her window. “Look over here.”

Ben leaned over to see. “We are close,” he said. “Man, would you look at all those stars. It's like nothing I've ever seen before.”

“It's amazing what you can see when there's no moon, no pollution, no city lights,” she said. “I think the first time I ever really saw the night sky — the Milky Way, that is — was backpacking through the Rocky Mountains.”

“Backpacking?”

“My father used to take me. Every summer, we'd pick a trail, a park, and just go. The two of us.”

“Is that right?” He looked at her. “You know, you're just chock-f of secrets.”

“Dad taught me how to survive with nothing more than a knife.”

“He must have been something.”

“He was a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy. Funny, dry wit, and he could really carry a tune.”

“And your mother?” he asked. “Didn't she go with you two?”

“No. Not my mother. She didn't like anything that was wet, cold, or buggy. I guess she was a bit of a glamor chick. You know the type.”

“They're both gone?” he asked. He knew the answer, but not the details. Maybe now was the time for her to talk.

“Yeah, they're both gone,” was all she said.

Isbel stirred in the backseat. “I need to tend to the girl,” she told him. “You might want to give us a few.”

Ben got out of the car. “Dirt road,” he remarked. Then he walked to the front of the car and looked toward the sea. A few minutes later, Jordan joined him.

“Where exactly are we?” he asked.

“East. Somewhere between Kordkuy and Bandar Torkaman.”

Her voice was soft and just hearing her speak eased his mind.

“No one comes this way,” she added. “Vacation spots are in the other direction.”

He reached for her hand. “Let's walk down to the shoreline.”

“Let's,” she agreed.

Her hand in his felt exactly the same as it did last week — or the week before that, or that — when nothing between them had changed. When life was
almost
perfect.

At the shore, he said, “I love the ocean,” then ran his free hand down his leg and across the pocket of his pants. The ring was noticeably gone.

She looked at him, meeting his eyes. “I know,” she replied.

“Let's get our feet wet.”

“Roll up your pants.”

“I'll do better than that.” Ben stepped back and began to undress. “You don't mind?” he asked, knowing they were out of the girl's view.

“No. Not at all.” Her voice was tender.

And as he undressed, he felt her eyes following his every move, lingering over his body.

She slipped her shoes from her feet, released the scarf from around her neck, and pulled the long black prayer dress over her head. Underneath the dress, she wore a black slip dress that fell to her mid-thighs. With it off, the white of her flesh paled against the dark of the night.

Every thought in his mind told him,
She's mine.

Jordan searched the shoreline, then released the attachment from her thigh.
“Ready?” she asked as she slipped her hand into his.

They were falling in love all over again. Whoever she was pretending to be didn't change the fact that he needed her. She needed him.

“The sand is soft,” she said.

“Like silk.” He squished his toes together and kicked up the sand. “It's like an oxymoron,” he said.

“Is it?”

“It's rough, but it's smooth,” he explained.

“Don't you have a way with words,” she said softly.

At the water's edge, he placed a foot in the water. “Unbelievable,” he said. “It's just beautiful, like bathwater.”

“We shouldn't go out too far,” she warned.

“We won't.”

Before long, their bodies folded into the rhythm of the slow-moving waves.

“Come here,” he said and pulled her near.

She didn't resist.

He needed to feel the curves of her body next to his. He needed to feel the flutter of her heartbeat. To know they were one.

“It's nice here,” he said. He stroked her hair, which fell below her shoulders and circled her back.

Together, they slowly swayed in the warmth of the water. Before long, they were waist deep and halfway to heaven. With his lips on hers, he felt the utter pain within his soul, what he ached for, and needed most. Her lips were full; his swollen, bruised, but compliant.

He was never going to let her go again. Ever.

“Now,” was all she said.

Exploding, he grasped and raised her body. Her legs spreading, the weight of her body tumbling into place, penetration, then rocking, gently, rhythmically, and explosively.

• • •

“Wake up.” Ben shook her.

Jordan bolted upright. “What?”

“Someone's coming,” he said.

She peered into the rearview mirror. She'd slept too long. “Ben, do you see my scarf?”

“On the floor.” He reached for it.

Isbel woke. “What's going on?” she asked.

“Isbel, we have company. You need to stay down,” Jordan told her.

“Here.” Ben handed Jordan the scarf.

“Who's coming?” the girl asked.

“The police,” Jordan told her. “And listen, Ben, whatever you do, keep your face out of sight. You have the flu. Act the part.”

“Got it,” he said.

“You have the flu, too,” she told the girl.

Ben looked over his shoulder. “Let's just leave,” he said to Jordan.

“Too late,” she replied.

The lights on the police vehicle flashed once, then twice.

“Can't you outrun them?” he asked.

“No. We don't want to tip them off that anything is wrong.”

“You got a plan here?”

She reached for the glove box, where she pulled out a gun. She released the safety and handed it to Ben.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Shoot
if
and
when
I say
fire
. Got it?”

“Jordan,” he started to protest. “I'm not killing anyone. Got it?”

“Shoot, don't ask. Now stop talking. Remember you're sick with flu.”