Authors: Jennifer Moore
Hakim could barely believe what he was hearing. He rubbed his forehead as he tried to make sense of what Nasir was saying. “And they just drove through the gate?”
“Yes, Your Highness. The truck and its cargo were found abandoned a few blocks from the palace where Miss Walker was apparently transferred to another vehicle.”
A million thoughts tumbled through Hakim’s mind.
How had these men obtained entrance to the grounds? Were they actual gardeners? How had they escaped without being searched? Why wasn’t Shelby being guarded? Who had let this happen?
All of these questions would be answered, he knew, but right now, Shelby’s safety was his highest priority. “What is being done?” He tried to keep his voice from rising or shaking.
“We are attempting to identify the men, and technical analysts are searching the internet for any further information.”
Hakim nodded. His stomach was roiling.
“There has undoubtedly been some negligence in our security.” Nasir’s face colored. “You may be assured the people responsible will be dealt with.”
Hakim nodded again, his mind far away.
“Your Highness.” Nasir placed his hand on the prince’s shoulder.
Hakim saw uncharacteristic concern in his face as he considered his bodyguard. This was the first time he had seen a different side of Nasir other than pure professionalism. He sensed true sympathy and realized how much he depended on this man. How much he trusted him.
“Based on their previous patterns, it is likely
Nahl
will try to use Miss Walker as a bargaining chip. Which means for now, anyway, they will keep her alive.”
Hakim felt some small relief when he heard this, at first, but then his mind wandered. They could do worse than death, and the images that filled his head made his heart pound and his lungs constrict to the point that he gasped. He pushed away the thoughts, realizing he would be no good to Shelby if he could not pull himself together. “Nasir, please find her.”
Nasir swallowed and nodded.
****
Shelby awoke in the dark and assessed her situation. She sat with her back against a hard wall. Right away, she felt pain. Her legs were bent in an awkward position that made her bad ankle throb. Her arms burned from being bound behind her. She struggled and strained for a few minutes to un-cramp her screaming muscles and finally gave up. Then, she noticed muted noise. Somewhere close by, strangers carried on conversations she couldn’t understand. She blinked her eyes and willed herself into a hazy consciousness.
She was squashed on a cement floor in a small, dark room about the size of a closet. In fact, that’s probably exactly what this room was. The only light came from a strip under the door. As Shelby’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw the room contained nothing except for dust, spider webs, and a round drain in the center of the floor.
The small room was too small for Shelby to stretch her legs out all the way. She managed to stand, which required a bit of work with no hands and a groggy head, and noticed her boots had been taken, leaving her wearing socks. She backed up to the door and twisted to the side, lifted her arms, and tried to turn the knob. She wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Leaning forward, she used her left heel to bang on the door and yelled, “Hey! Open the door!”
Her screaming silenced the voices in the other room and earned her a shove, as the door flew open.
She was pushed down hard. “Let me out,” she screamed, turning around on her knees. “I’m an American citizen!”
The man who had pushed her only laughed.
Shelby recognized him as the large man who had pulled her from her horse. The one she had bitten. She flicked her gaze to his right hand which rested on the door frame. She felt a twinge of satisfaction to see nasty red tooth-shaped marks. She also noticed this man’s thick dark hair grew down on his forehead, almost to his eyebrows. He reminded her of a large, hairy monkey.
He held the door partly closed so she couldn’t see any of the other people behind him.
“Listen, you need to let me out of here right now or you’ll be sorry when Prince Hakim and the Sheik find you.” Her voice shook with rage and fear.
The man laughed again and said something over his shoulder in Arabic.
Shelby gritted her teeth and wished she could understand more of the language.
He turned back, sneering, and said, “They will not be a threat to us for long.” Then he slammed the door.
Shelby kept kicking and yelling until the door jerked open again, and a bucket of ice cold water was dumped on her. The door slammed and she screamed, pounding on it with her stockinged feet—the pain in her ankle feeding her anger.
After being drenched by three more frigid buckets of water, she stopped shouting and collapsed against the wall. Her body felt exhausted. She was soaked and freezing. The closet was too small for her to lie down, and Shelby wouldn’t have lain on the cold, wet ground anyway.
Over the next hours, pain screamed through Shelby’s shoulders. The ropes dried, becoming tighter around her wrists. Terrified, she wondered what would happen. Would they let her live? She assumed she would be used as a bargaining chip to force Hakim to do whatever
Nahl
wanted. What if he refused? Was Khali-dar’s policy on terrorist negotiations the same as the United States’? How much time would they give him? Would they send him her severed fingers in the mail to make sure he knew they were serious? Would they beat or torture her? Would she ever see her family again? She couldn’t imagine any scenario in which this turned out well. Her mind was reeling out of control, and surges of panic shot down her arms and legs.
She breathed deeply and struggled to focus. As she willed her mind to relax, she found another, more pressing issue. As scared as she was, she couldn’t keep her focus from centering on her physical discomfort. Had her captors not considered the fact that she would eventually need to use the bathroom? Even if she did abandon all humanity and used a drain in a closet floor, she could not make that work in her current situation.
The door opened, interrupting her thoughts. Shelby squinted, suddenly blinded by the brightness. She glanced up, expecting to see Mr. Hairy, but she saw, instead, the silhouette of a nervous-looking smallish woman. Shelby wondered if she was afraid she’d get a mouth-shaped welt on her hand, too? The thought made her smile a little.
The woman motioned for Shelby to get up and follow her.
As she stood, Shelby moaned. Her body was stiff from being crunched in such a confined space. She winced when she put weight on her right foot. She gazed around as she followed the woman and realized she was in a house. They walked through the main room which served as a kitchen, family room, and office. Dark curtains covered the windows, keeping out the sunlight.
Is it night or day?
She looked for a door that led outside, but her heart sank when she saw two men standing in front of it. She recognized Mr. Hairy’s companion from the woods. Shelby did her best not to limp. Unable to stop herself, she glared.
He sneered back.
Shelby wondered if this was the shy woman’s house.
Is she married to Mr. Hairy? Who are the other guys? Are they members of
Nahl
?
The woman stopped in front of a door and opened it, displaying a small bathroom which only had a toilet and a sink. Motioning for Shelby to turn around, the woman liberated her swollen wrists and stepped aside, allowing Shelby inside the bathroom.
Her arms burned in protest as she rolled them forward and rubbed her shoulders with a suppressed moan. Shelby searched the tiny room for something she could use as a weapon, or something to pick a lock. A bobby pin, anything. But her search was in vain. She was glad for the chance to use the facilities and wash her face and hands. Opening the door, she found the timid-looking woman outside. Shelby followed her back into the closet where a small bowl of soup and a slice of bread sat on the floor.
She smiled at the woman, shot a glare of defiance at the men, and stepped through the door, relieved that she didn’t have to pretend to be brave anymore. The lock clicked behind her, and even though she had expected to hear it, she still jerked and her heart sank. Tears burned her eyes.
The only thing that changed in the small room besides the food being replaced while she used the bathroom was the light shining under the door. It dimmed, brightened, and sometimes went out. Shelby tried to figure out how long she had been there based on the illuminated strip, but the light appeared inconsistently, and after a while, she lost track of time all together.
At first, Shelby was nearly paralyzed with terror. Every little sound caused her to jump, but as time passed, she grew numb and her fear lessened. Even her desperation to escape, to have answers, to know what was being done about her absence yielded to plain old boredom.
Knowing she needed something besides self-pity to occupy her mind, Shelby gave herself small tasks. She measured the room. Her grandma had once told her the space between the second and third knuckles on her pointer finger is approximately an inch. She multiplied to calculate feet, divided to calculate percentage of a mile, converted to metric, figured the volume in liters, milliliters, cubic centimeters… She recited in her head the lyrics to every song she could think of, and then recited them backward, in Pig Latin, mixed every other word with another song… Anything to keep herself from falling to pieces.
But no matter what she occupied her mind with, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from wandering to Hakim.
When did he discover I was gone? Is he panicked? Will I ever see him again?
This last thought brought a lump to her throat, and the feelings she had repressed since the morning in the gazebo burst out of her mouth in sobs.
When she thought of the last thing she had said, she cringed.
She needed time to think?
Well, now she had it. She might as well use it.
How did my life come to this? Am I seriously so selfish that a
prince
wasn’t good enough?
But that other side of her brain kept reminding her that her happiness wouldn’t be found lolling around in beautiful dresses, eating all the hummus she could get her hands on. There needed to be more to her life. More to do, more to focus on besides herself. Finally, she collapsed into a fitful sleep.
Shelby spent her first few days of confinement in relative silence, but after what she guessed to be two or three days, she noticed movement in the house, and her heart pounded. Something was happening. As the time passed, she heard more and more voices. Most of the voices belonged to men, although she heard women, too. One woman in particular yelled in a shrill, loud voice. Shelby hoped
she
was Mr. Hairy’s wife.
Twisting herself into a more comfortable position, Shelby found she could hear the people in the room almost perfectly with her ear against the door. She understood some words, and even a few sentences, and listened as closely as she could.
****
A knock sounded on Hakim’s door. “Your Highness, I am sorry to wake you.”
“Please, come in, Nasir. I am not asleep.” Hakim sat on the couch in his bedroom—his father on a chair beside him. The room was bathed in a dim lamplight.
“I am sorry, I didn’t know you were here also, Your Majesty.” Nasir bowed.
The Sheik nodded and indicated a chair near them.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I only came to bring news. Our sources indicate an internet video will be released in two days detailing the demands of the kidnappers.”
“Two days?” asked Hakim. Two days seemed like an eternity. “Why are they waiting so long?”
“It is a game, Your Highness. At that time, five days will have passed since Miss Walker was taken. They hope to have you in such a state of desperation that you will be willing to give them anything they ask for.”
“It is a good plan,” Hakim said. He rubbed his eyes. “There is nothing I would not give if it would ensure Shelby’s safety.”
“My son,” the Sheik said in a gentle voice. “The
Nahl
will not ask for money. That is not what they seek.”
Hakim leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.
How can I choose between the welfare of my country and the woman I love?
He was exhausted. Every time he closed his eyes, he had to jerk himself back into consciousness. The last three days had been the longest of his life. The hours after Nasir had brought him the news about Shelby’s disappearance had passed in a blur. Hakim insisted on being involved in every aspect of the investigation. He rode with Nasir as the grounds were searched. He was present as employees were interviewed. He watched over the analysts’ shoulders as they examined security tapes and searched the internet. He oversaw the dispatch of every available officer and listened to each of their reports as they failed to find any trace of Shelby. He pushed his soldiers, desperately trying to think of something—anything they had overlooked.
With each failure, Hakim became more frantic. He felt so helpless. He should be doing something! He wanted to drive around the city, searching, but Nasir convinced him that he would serve Shelby better if he waited in the palace. The kidnappers would eventually make contact.
After two days, the frantic energy fueled by adrenaline began to be replaced by fatigue, and Nasir and the Sheik convinced Hakim to rest. However, sleep brought no relief. Each time he closed his eyes, he was plagued by images of Shelby imprisoned, or being beaten, or tortured, or worse.
He had no one to blame but himself. If he hadn’t been so arrogant, so convinced he was the only one who could keep her safe… And how could he have been so selfish to think she would give up everything to stay in Khali-dar? This was not the life for a lively, independent woman. These thoughts continued to haunt him as he stared out the window of his bedroom, with nothing but his own pain to keep him company.
That evening, Hakim paced back and forth across his father’s office then sank into a chair in front of the Sheik’s desk. “I can’t put them through this, Father. She is their only daughter. How can I tell them?”
The Sheik leaned on his cane as he walked around the desk and sat in a chair next to him.