The Libra Affair (25 page)

Ben only groaned.

“Is everything okay?” Sonya asked the doctor.

“He feels a little hot and this nonresponsive babbling is troublesome. Perhaps the pain medication is causing the disorientation.” The doctor looked at Sonya. “Is he complaining of much pain?”

“Yes, every time he moves or sits up.”

“I see.”

“Is this normal?”

“Yes, yes. Discomfort is quite normal. Is he eating anything yet?”

“Very little, mostly liquids.”

The doctor flipped through Ben's chart, scribbled down a few notes, and then set it aside. Next, he took Ben's temperature. “He has a slight fever, but it's not uncommon to run a mild fever after surgery.” The doctor nodded at the nurse to redress Ben.

“But he'll be okay?” Sonya asked again.

“I'm going to order a few tests to make sure everything looks fine.”

“Is it anything serious?”

“I hope not. Now tell me, have there been any other visitors through here?”

“Only hospital staff and — ”

Sonya stopped midsentence when the door to the room opened.

Officer Tavaazo entered the room.

Dr. Hamin glanced over his shoulder. “Officer,” the doctor spoke with an air authority, “I'm afraid we're in the middle of an examination. You'll need to wait outside.”

“How is the patient?” Tavaazo asked.

“Sir.” Dr. Hamin held up a hand. “I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait outside. Perhaps you don't realize it, but this is a limited access room, so if you wouldn't mind?” The doctor turned to the nurse. “See the gentleman out of the room.”

Without further argument, the officer left the room, saying, “I'll be out in the hallway when you have a moment.”

The doctor waited for the door to close before he asked Sonya, “What does this man want?”

“I really don't know.” Sonya crossed her arms. “He's been quite bothersome, that man.”

“Is there a problem I should know about?”

“No, but it seems the officer is trying to create one.”

“I see.”

Sonya continued. “Officer Tavaazo doesn't seem to know his place. Yet, he is fully aware that under diplomatic policy, he is prohibited from harassing Mr. Ahed. If he continues to show up like this, I'm afraid I will have no other choice than to report him.”

“I suppose the wife's initial behavior caused quite the stir,” Dr. Hamin said.

“Yes.” Then Sonya was quick to explain. “But she didn't mean any harm. She was only acting under a mistaken impression.”

The doctor wrinkled his brow. “Yes, perhaps, although I must say her actions were highly inappropriate.”

Sonya nodded, making the concession.

“Where exactly is Mrs. Ahed?” the doctor asked.

“Funny you should ask, that's exactly what this officer keeps asking, but frankly, and I don't mean to be rude, it's none of his business.” Sonya lowered her voice. “Between you and me, all I know is that Mrs. Ahed was asked to return to Moscow. If I knew the reason, I'm afraid I would not be at liberty to discuss it with you.”

“It's odd that she had to leave her husband like this. It seems to me there could have been some exception made due to the extenuating circumstances.”

“Yes, I see your point, but I don't mind being here for Mrs. Ahed. We're like sisters,” Sonya explained.

“I see.”

“Sometimes the job requires us to do what is asked, not what is best,” Sonya added. “But I must say, we are all confident Mr. Ahed is in quite capable hands with your attention and care. His wife has nothing to worry about.” Sonya didn't have to mention the money she'd placed in the doctor's bank account would make sure of that.

The doctor graciously nodded. “I think I'll speak with the officer now.”

Sonya escorted the doctor to the door, and after closing it, she stood next to it to listen in on the conversation about to take place in the hallway.

The doctor was the first to speak. “I'm sorry to tell you, officer, but this room is off limits to visitors. What exactly can we do to assist you today?”

“I'm here because I feel compelled to check on the patient,” Tavaazo replied.

“For what reason?”

“As you know,” the officer began, “we spoke with Mr. Ahed's wife earlier, and come to think of it, where is Mrs. Ahed now, do you happen to know, doctor?”

“My business is with the patient alone.”

“Is it?”

“If you have an official matter that we need to discuss that concerns my patient, then please by all means, let's do that. But quite frankly, I haven't the time to keep up with the whereabouts of his family and friends.”

“Mrs. Ahed isn't just anyone.” Tavaazo shifted his weight.

“No.” The doctor stood firm. “She's his wife.”

“Isn't it necessary for her to remain by his side, to make his medical decisions?”

“I believe all of the arrangements for his care are in place. Now if there isn't anything else I can assist you with, I really must attend to my other patients. Good day, officer.” The doctor tucked the clipboard under an arm and started down the hallway.

“I do have one more question,” Tavaazo called after the doctor. “When will the patient be well enough to leave?”

The doctor stopped and faced Officer Tavaazo. “That depends. If all goes well, then he should be discharged in a day or two.”

Tavaazo sneezed. Then wiped his nose.

The doctor looked at him askance. “Have you been in Mr. Ahed's room before today?”

Tavaazo squirmed.

“Have you?” The doctor walked back to the officer and stared down at him.

“Yes, actually,” Tavaazo confessed. “As a matter of fact, I had a short visit earlier today.”

“And yesterday?”

Tavaazo tipped his head to the side to admit to the fact.

The doctor reached to feel the officer's forehead. “My gosh, man! You're burning up.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the nurse's station. “Nurse?”

“I'm perfectly fine,” Tavaazo tried to argue.

“I'm sorry, sir, you leave me no choice in the matter; I'm afraid we're going to have to run some tests,” the doctor told him.

“Me?” Tavaazo was losing ground.

“Yes. You're obviously sick and since you were in Mr. Ahed's room, I'm
compelled
” — using Tavaazo's own word — “to get to the bottom of this for both of your sakes.”

The doctor flipped through the pages of his chart and began scribbling. When the nurse arrived, he told her, “We're going to need a full workup on Officer Tavaazo; you can start with his labs.” Then he tore off the orders and handed them to the nurse.

“I really must object,” Tavaazo said.

“There's a good chance you may have infected Mr. Ahed with your illness and quite honestly, the man is in no position to contract an illness, not now.”

The officer muddled around, looking for an excuse.

However, the doctor was far more assertive than any man with an excuse. “Nurse, escort the officer to the lab.”

The nurse took the officer by his elbow and led him away.

Sonya smiled to herself and returned to her chair.

“What's wrong?” Ben asked. “They don't know who I am, do they?”

“Not with that beard you've grown.” She curled her lips, giving him a smile. “And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you are beginning to look quite Russian.”

He relaxed. “So what did the doctor have to say?”

“They're going to run some tests.”

“Why?” He tried lifting up.

“Don't worry, everything's fine.”

• • •

“I'm tired. I think I need to sleep,” Ben said to Sonya as he closed his eyes.

“Before you do, I have something for you.”

He rolled his head toward her and slowly opened his eyes. The light was bright and he had to squint. Sonya pulled a small envelope from her briefcase, then approached the side of his bed. She opened the envelope, then held it so he could see inside of it.

His eyes began to water. “You have the ring.”

“Yes.” She took it from inside the envelope and placed the ring inside the palm of his hand.

“How?” He felt a lump form in his throat.

“Never mind that. I just thought you'd feel better knowing it wasn't lost.”

He nodded; he was at a complete loss for words.

“I understand,” she said.

Tears slid down his cheeks and into his beard. He never expected to be looking at the symbol of his affections again.

He held the ring to the light.

He knew how he felt about Jordan. He knew how she felt about him. There was no hiding from the truth, although he knew Jordan was playing it safe. Having been an escape artist long enough, he could read her like a book.

It was her way of not acknowledging her feelings, of escaping commitment, of protecting herself from rejection and pain. He'd been there, done that. He'd lived that safe kind of life — maybe not as some hotshot real-life James Bond character — but now, there was no way he was going back to a life where he lied to himself about the way he felt. His fear of pain and rejection had held him back long enough. And maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could pierce Jordan's armor so that she could move forward, so that they could share a real and meaningful life together. Somehow, some way, he was going to see this through, even if only for the satisfaction of saying he tried.

Sonya patted his arm. “Why don't you get some rest?” she said to him in a kind voice. “I'll just close the shades.”

He held the ring to her. “Can you hang onto to this until I — ”

“Of course.” She took the ring from his hand. “No need to worry, it's safe with me.”

He closed his eyes. That was enough thinking for now. He'd work out the logistics later.

Jordan had to get to the pharmacy before it closed. But someone was following her.

Who?

On foot, she walked with a group of women as they made their way toward the center of town. They gave her cover as she panned every alleyway, open door, and window.

But there were no red flags. No one stood out as the likely candidate. Still, she wasn't able to shake the feeling.

She was being followed.

When the group of women stopped in the courtyard of the Imam Reza Holy Shrine, Jordan stopped with them. Music played at a near-deafening pitch. The people around her were either praying or heading inside the shrine.

A group of men joined the women and stood to their side, not comingling.

Fireworks shot into the sky. Paper confetti rained down.

The group of men and women parted and headed toward their separate entrances to shrine. And like an island, Jordan was left standing alone until she saw the silhouette of a lone man.

The man came directly toward her from across the courtyard.

A shiver coursed through her limbs. “Farrokh,” his name fell from her lips. What was he doing here? Why was he following her? It meant trouble.

Jordan turned. Her instincts told her to
avoid him at all costs
— he might be a set-up. She spied a group of women and children and hurried toward them. The women were laughing and the children chased each other in circles, which made it easy for her to whittle her way through the group.

Farrokh went around the group.

She hurried toward another group of folks.

“Jordan,” he called to her.

Heads turned. People were now watching the chase.

A group of young boys were hurrying toward the shrine.

Fireworks exploded, lighting the sky.

She lowered her stance and swept through the boys.

Why had Farrokh come back? He was supposed to be long gone.

“Jordan,” he called to her. “Wait. Wait.”

He must have followed her from the hotel. Maybe he came for Isbel? But if that were the case, he would have taken his daughter and left. He didn't have to hunt her down, he didn't have to ask permission.

Too many folks were taking notice of the chase. She had to put an end to this.

She dashed across the main thoroughfare at full sprint and headed for the bazaar. There, she slowed and hurried down the cobblestone street, looking for a shop with almost no one inside of it. Five stores in, she found just the place. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside a small shop, which sold scarves, bangles, and plenty of trinkets.

“Good evening,” the young clerk greeted her.

Jordan nodded, still catching her breath.

“Anything I can help you find?” the girl asked.

“I'd like to look around,” Jordan said.

Farrokh entered the shop.

Jordan waved to him, saying quietly, “Over here.”

He hurried to her.

Jordan lifted a scarf as if showing him her find.

He could barely speak. “Why are you running?” he asked like a whipped child.

“What are you doing here?” Jordan demanded. She noticed he was manipulating the fingers on his prosthetic hand. He was nervous, too nervous. “I thought you were leaving the country.”

“The borders are locking down, everyone is being stopped,” he explained.

“So take an off-road.” She wasn't buying his excuse.

“I know. I know,” he agreed. His body was stiff; his eyes shifty. “The truth is,” he continued, “I couldn't leave without getting word to you first.”

“You could have called.”

“I know, but I was so close. And why are you only just getting here? I thought you would have been here before today.”

“I was delayed.”

“Why?”

“Look, Farrokh, what do you want?”

“To make sure Isbel gets out of the country.”

“You left that to me, remember?”

“But you won't get through.”

“Isbel has a Russian passport now.”