Freedom Does Matter (Mercenaries Book 2) (29 page)

Now it was Millie’s turn to laugh. When she’d recovered, she said, “Yes, and yes. He’s not ready yet. While we’re gone, Shakti will run some neurological tests to give us an idea how he’s doing.” She gave the couple a sharp look. “Though I can see at least some of his… involuntary reactions are unaffected.”

Beckie giggled again and wriggled in Ian’s lap. “Maybe,” she admitted. She turned back to Ian, rubbing his nose with hers. “Will you follow Millie’s directions and get better so we can be together?”

“With little grace, I fear.” He took her waist in his hands and lifted. “I think you best… though I wish it were not so.”

She kissed him again and stood, walking around the chair to stand with her hands on his shoulders. “Maurice said Kevin was over here earlier?”

“Indeed. Before breakfast. We discussed the plan, such as it is, and he will confer with you on the way.” She was surprised at the hopeful look when he turned to face her. “Unless you have opted for a…” His face fell. “No, I see not. Very well.” He drew himself up to heave a sigh. No, dammit! Beckie thought. This is the right thing to do. “What plans do you have for the balance of the day?”

“We’ll ask Jean-Luc to leave around eight tonight. That’ll put us in London between seven and eight in the morning, so we can be downtown before noon. If Kevin’s gotten hold of Derek, we could meet. I was planning to listen to Haleef in his prayers—not that I understand Arabic.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “I’d stay here with you till we leave, but I’ll—”

“No! No, you won’t,” Millie said. “There are a few tests we can run before I leave, and they may give Shakti some direction.”

Beckie walked over to the doctor. “I know that’s bullshit, Millie. You’re just doing your very best to keep me out of Ian’s bed, at least until he’s healed better.” She blushed again and studied her feet. “I can’t believe I said that.”

Millie put her arm around Beckie’s shoulders and pulled her close. “What you say is true, Beckie, but what I said is also true. Besides, Amy wants a few minutes of your time before we leave.”

Beckie snapped a look at the girl as Millie let go. Amy nodded with a resigned look on her face. “Me and Abby. Probably Mom should be there, too.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Millie said. “There are some things a parent… I told you before, I trust you until you show you don’t deserve it. Last night, you earned a lot back.”

Amy reached to her mother; pulled her into a hug. When Millie disengaged, she kissed Amy on the cheek and stepped through the door. Before anyone could move, she popped her head back around the doorframe. “Ian, I’ll be back in ten minutes or so. Please be ready.”

“Okay,” Beckie said. “I have ten minutes with Ian. You guys can all get the hell outta here so I can…” She stifled her laugh. “You know. Amy, I’ll meet you and Abby out front.”

She looked at Ian a second before approaching him. His face was lined, but these were happy lines, and his smile… I love his smile. “Not a word, mister!”

Nothing of import happened between being thrown out of Ian’s room and walking from the dock to the plane. In the twilight, Beckie saw Ian along with Millie and Kevin. She ran up to them, hugging Ian in greeting.

“Wait… why?” Beckie stammered as she caught her breath. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s as good as it was,” Millie answered. “We got some good directions for Shakti to follow. But the initial indications are that the longest wait will be for his skull to knit back together.”

Beckie’s heart had not been pounding from the run; she relaxed and enjoyed the feel of Ian against her.

“Indeed,” Ian told her. “’Hard-headed’ is the term I believe Millie used when she thought I was not paying attention.”

“So, he’s just here to see us off,” Kevin said. “Don’t worry. With both you and Millie demanding he stay here—”

“Thank you, Kevin,” Ian said with a smile. He squeezed Beckie’s hand. “A few minutes ago, I spoke with Mr. Hamilton, who professed an inability to contact either of you.” He smiled. “I still have some small utility, I suppose.” He shrugged off their protests. “Mr. Hamilton reports that the sole major soccer event scheduled before the end of September is what he termed a ‘friendly’ match between Israel and Iran, to be held in the name of good will, peace and friendship. It is to be held at Wembley Stadium the afternoon of Sunday the seventeenth.”

“So, just a week?” Kevin said.

“Indeed, if this is the event. Mr. Hamilton will meet you at Gatwick with additional information. The most interesting fact may be that this match boasts among its promoters a consortium of evangelical churches from the United States. No, no,” he said, “I have no evidence beyond the incongruity of an evangelical organization of any description sponsoring an event involving Jews and Muslims. Other than war. It beggars belief.” He sighed. “Or perhaps it is my old fashioned cynicism showing. I can only advise you to keep open minds.” He turned to look up at the door; Beckie allowed her gaze to follow and observed Jean-Luc, obviously waiting for them.

“We’ll be right there, Jean-Luc,” she called to him, but allowed the others to shake Ian’s hand before she squeezed him tight again. As Kevin and Millie made their way up the stairs, she said, “I love you. Take care, okay?”

“I love you, too. Please do not make me come to get you. I would not be happy. You do not want me unhappy, especially in my present state of mental confusion.”

Beckie had turned half-way through Ian’s speech; when he finished, she giggled and rubbed her nose to his. “Too fucking right I’ll be careful. Millie’d like nothing better than another excuse to keep us apart!” She squeezed him a last time, then ran for the steps, slapping the waiting mechanic on the shoulder as she passed. “Thanks for your patience!”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Day Thirty - London

IN THE PLANE, BECKIE BEAT the others to the cot in the clinic and tried to get a little sleep. Thoughts of potential disasters frustrated her; she went forward to talk to Jean-Luc.

He was at pains to introduce his new co-pilot, Mathilde Moreau. “Go Shen vetted her,” was the reference that Beckie most wanted to hear, and Jean-Luc finally gave it following her genealogy: “She’s French,” which seemed an important thing to him. Of course! Beckie thought. Someone to talk to…

After she’d spent thirty minutes talking, she thanked them both and walked aft to find Haleef curled up on the cot. Millie shrugged, as if to say he was going to use it and you weren’t… “I suppose.” She found an unoccupied row and curled herself up.

A touch at her foot accompanied the aroma of coffee. When she remembered where she was, Beckie opened her eyes to see Kevin smiling down at her, a steaming white mug in his hand. When she hesitated slightly, Kevin said, “It’s okay. I made it. Not ‘spresso.”

“Cool!” Beckie took the cup and sipped. “Thanks! How long?”

“Out the window is the south of England. Jean-Luc said about thirty minutes when I started the coffee, so… twenty minutes? More or less.”

“Thanks.” Beckie slid over to look out the window at the farm land passing beneath them, then turned back. “Haleef?”

“He’s up and about,” Kevin said, waving toward the front of the plane.

Beckie nodded and sipped the coffee.

At the exit from the Customs Hall, Derek greeted them with his usual effusiveness. Beckie smiled as she gripped his hand, and then gave Emily, his wife, a quick hug.

“Right. Let’s get on to downtown,” Derek said, urging them along to his car.

“It looks a bit small,” Kevin said as they stood around a bright red Ford Mondeo.

“Yeah, well, it’s what I ‘ave. Seats five comfortably. We can get seven…”

Beckie was counting up to eight along with him. She looked at Kevin. “Kev, how about you take Mathilde and Jean-Luc and pick up a rental? Meet us at…” She turned a questioning gaze at Derek.

“Boynton said ‘e’s booked us into the Grosvenor Square Marriott. You know where that is, right?”

“Yeah. And the GPS does, too. We’ll see you there.”

Two hours later, they had come together in one of the Garden Suites. Beckie was curled up in the corner of the white sofa. Haleef had seated himself on the floor next to her. Derek had dropped Emily at her parents’ home—where she and Derek had been visiting—and he and Kevin were talking over the information Derek had uncovered so far.

“If the soccer match is the event we’re talking about, it’s on Sunday, at two. Not sure what kind of attack they’d make. It’s at Wembley, which is a great ‘ulking thing on the West side near where the M1 starts.

“Anyway, if they choose this game… It’s an exhibition match between Israel and Iran. Neither team is ranked very ‘igh in world soccer lists. Being ‘eld ‘ere because we’re neutral.” Derek stifled a laugh. “And the organizers ‘ave invited a long list of people, both Israeli and Arab.”

“From more than just Iran?” Beckie said.

“Yeah. All over the Middle East. Not so many from Egypt,” he said with a look at Haleef. “No idea why that should be, either.” He leaned against the side table. “Bunch of folks from the U.S., too.”

“Oh, yeah. Ian said one of the sponsors was U.S. based?”

“Well, at least one. Kind of ‘ard to get all the details, this being the weekend. ‘Owever, the one Ian was most taken by was that consortium of what ‘e called evangelicals.” He continued to speak as he walked to the refrigerator and removed a bottle of water. “I should ‘ave more details on that tomorrow.”

“Wembley’s a big place?” Kevin said.

“Right. If you recall the Olympics? The football finals were held there.”

“Football?”

Derek smiled. “Soccer to you, Ms Beckie. No offense.”

She grinned back at him. “Oh, right. Team USA took gold, didn’t they?”

Derek frowned. “I thought Mexico…”

“I think she means the ladies, Derek,” Millie said with a smile.

He wrinkled his brow, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s right, then.”

Haleef stirred, then looked up at Beckie. “I would call my home, and then I should seek Sedki.”

“Let’s go to the lobby, see if we can get you a throw-away phone. I’ll get one, too, and come with you.”

A spirited debate followed Beckie’s suggestion. While the phone was quickly accepted, the idea that Beckie would accompany Haleef met with much less approbation. Eventually they agreed that Beckie, wearing the robe and niqab, would go with Haleef; Derek and Kevin would trail them. Millie would set up in her room, and with Jean-Luc and Mathilde, go over the London calendar to see if any other events might replace the soccer match as the target of “a blow for Allah.”

The concierge suggested a short walk to Oxford Street, where they found several stores offering phones. After lunch, Haleef hailed a cab and he and Beckie rode toward Ealing, where his family rented a home in the Muslim community. Beckie had changed into her robe and niqab before beginning the trek; she was as ready as she could be.

“How will your sister and your family react if they discover I’m not Muslim?”

“It will be better if we don’t discuss it,” Haleef said after some contemplation.

“Well, we don’t want them to think you’ve brought me home as a… as a girlfriend.”

They agreed to explain their relationship as friends, and that Beckie’s visit was work related. Not a lie in the bunch, Beckie thought.

The meeting with Haleef’s family went better than Beckie had feared. Hidden by the voluminous robe and the niqab, she scrunched herself up even smaller than her already diminutive stature and listened. While his parents enjoyed his visit, no matter how brief, Haleef’s sister, Saliha, took Beckie’s attention.

The woman chose Western dress, jeans and an oversized pull-over sweater with sneakers, although she did wear a scarf over her hair. She took Haleef aside, out of Beckie’s hearing, but Beckie could still see her gestures, all in Beckie’s direction. Unnoticed by either of them, she sidled closer to Haleef and Saliha, then reached out to touch Haleef’s arm.

When Beckie interrupted, Saliha was complaining about Beckie’s choice of costume; Haleef was listening. “Shall we go outside?” Beckie suggested in a voice just louder than a whisper. Both Saliha and Haleef stared. “Then your parents won’t be burdened with extraneous information, information that can in no way benefit them.”