Pussycat in Peril (Pussycat Death Squad Book 3) (13 page)

Her arms were nearly pulled from their sockets as Abdullah abruptly decided he wanted down. The little boy walked over to Kaeden and stood there for a long moment, his legs spread and his thumb planted firmly in his mouth as he studied the man. Finally he moved the thumb just enough to say, “Babba,” before he wrapped his chubby little arms around Kaeden’s legs.

In other circumstances Kaeden’s panicked expression would have been hilarious. It was apparent that he’d had little contact with children. From photos she’d seen in their home, he did look somewhat like the children’s father, especially in coloring and with his beard grown in so heavily. He also carried himself in a military fashion. Their father probably moved in a similar manner. She gave him a pleading look and he picked the little boy up and placed him on his knee.

“Tell you what, you can call me Ami Babba if you like. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

The little boy nodded, snuggled up against Kaeden’s chest and promptly went to sleep. Astaria wasn’t sure but she suspected she saw pure love and adoration in the expression on Kaeden’s face.

*****

Caring for two young children was a surefire distraction from the concerns that had been troubling her. Astaria had not really interacted with many children since entering the Amazonian Guard at age sixteen. Kaeden had even less experience than she did. Fortunately Sarai was an old hand at childcare, and took to the children as Astaria had known she would. The children ate a hearty lunch and were put down for naps in short order. Both children slept in Astaria and Kaeden’s bed for the time being and Dawood managed to find an old cot for Ravia to sleep on later that evening.

After their evening baths Astaria took on the task of braiding Ravia’s hair.

“My nanny used to take care of it for me, but we left her yesterday before she had a chance to comb it,” Ravia said from her seat on the floor between Astaria’s legs. Astaria was seated on the bedroom chair and had placed a cushion on the floor for the child’s comfort.

Astaria frowned as she realized she had no idea where the children had been. “Where were you? Did you stay at your house after your parents…”

Ravia shook her head, then stopped when she realized she was pulling her hair. “No. A few days after they died some men came for us and took us to a big house.”

“Was it just you and Abdullah?”

“Our nanny came too.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know. When they came to get us yesterday, they said she couldn’t come.”

Astaria changed the subject as she sensed the child was getting upset. Another loss. Ya Allah, the lack of concern for these children’s emotional wellbeing was appalling. Later that evening she and Kaeden read the children bedtime stories from books they’d been able to borrow from a helpful neighbor two houses down. She’d lent a sympathetic ear when Astaria explained having to abandon all the children’s belongings. Displaced people were so common now the woman had not asked any questions at all about their circumstances and had also given them toys and games that her children had outgrown. Little Ravia was an obsessive reader and Dula was such a bundle of energy it was good to have something to occupy their time.

After story time Kaeden treated the children to a rousing rendition of “Ami Ali,” displaying a heretofore unknown talent for imitating animal noises. Astaria could feel the heat rise to her face as she was charmed by this aspect of his personality. She could see what an excellent father he would make. She was drawn out of her reverie when Dula suddenly burst into tears. It was surprising. The little boy was, as Kaeden kept saying, ‘a tough little nut.’

Ravia patted her brother’s back as Astaria rocked him back and forth in her arms.

“I think he’s missing our animals. We lived out in the country and we had pet chickens and goats. Dula really loved the chickens and they loved him. They would never even peck him when we collected eggs,” the little girl said.

Kaeden who was sitting on the bed next to her, gave her a worried look before he started talking to the child who was sobbing as though his heart would break. “Hey Dula. Hey little man. You know my folks have a farm too with lots of animals. Chickens and cows and you know what? We have deer and they’re so tame they’ll come up and eat out of your hand.”

Dula raised his head from where he’d been soaking Astaria’s neck. He looked up at Kaeden. His little body still shuddered with sobs but he was clearly intrigued by the notion of tame deer.

“Really?” he said in a husky whisper.

“Really. You want to go to America with me to meet them?”

Dula stared at him for several more moments then nodded before lowering his head to Astaria’s chest. Before long his soft snores announced he was asleep. Astaria lay him down on the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. Ravia stretched out on her cot. Despite their earlier naps both children were plainly tired.

“Good night,” the young girl whispered.

Astaria and Kaeden slipped out of the room, taking seats at the top of the stairs as the Hamadis had not yet gone to bed and they needed a little privacy. She sat between his legs with her back to his front, just finding comfort in his presence. She relayed the information Ravia had shared with her earlier, though, like her, he couldn’t see how it helped them understand the situation any better. He agreed that taking the children’s nanny away was just another added, and probably unnecessary, cruelty. He began stroking her hair and before long he was giving her a full scalp massage.

“Do you think it’ll be okay to take them back to the States?” he asked.

Astaria rolled her head her body melting into a puddle of relaxation under his hands. “I don’t know where else they could go. I’m sure they have relatives. Ya Allah. Who knows where they might be.”

“So they have prior claim?”

“Of course. But the children are royals. At some point they might want to come home,” she said.

“Yeah, but this country hasn’t had a royal ruler in thirty years. I can’t think of any countries that have returned to a monarchy after that many years,” he said, continuing with the delectable massage. He’d moved down to her shoulders now. Every motion of his fingers releasing tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying.

“I think France did, but it didn’t last long and it was a long time ago. Bottom line is, I have no idea. Until we know what Boulos’s plan is, we’re just spinning ourselves into butter for no purpose.”

He nodded and they sat there in the stairwell for a while longer before joining the children in bed.

*****

Astaria awoke with a wide boy-sized foot planted firmly on her nose. She looked down at Abdullah who was sleeping between herself and Kaeden. The little boy was on his stomach with his head turned toward the foot of the bed. She glanced over at Kaeden planning to turn the child around only to lock onto his sparkling gaze.

“Kid sleeps like he’s in an MMA bout. He’s been kicking me in the kidneys all night. Pretty sure I’ll be peeing blood come morning,” Kaeden groused.

He helped her turn the child around and just as they settled down again, Ravia let out a piercing scream. Astaria bounded out of the bed and reached down to the girl who was tossing and turning on her cot, muttering in distress. Astaria realized it was her restlessness that had awakened her, not Abdullah’s combative sleeping style.

“Wake up Ravia, you’re having a bad dream,” she said to Ravia.

Ravia sat up on the cot and opened her eyes, which were wet with tears. Astaria pulled the little girl onto her lap. “It’s okay, sweetheart, she murmured into the child’s hair. She rocked her back and forth.

“Mama and Babba went out that night,” Ravia said, her tear-soaked face an agonizing map of pain that looked profane on the face of one so young. Though she’d warned about Abdullah having nightmares, she hadn’t mentioned being troubled as well. Astaria held the girl in her arms, struggling to hold back her own tears while Ravia relayed the tragic events that had disturbed her sleep. After awakening briefly, Abdullah snuggled down against Kaeden and dozed back off. Kaeden held the child, as he watched Astaria and Ravia.

“They hardly ever went out, but Babba was home on leave and he wanted to take Mama out to show off her new dress. She looked so beautiful that night. Her dress was the prettiest blue. It swirled around like the ocean. And she was wearing gold heels. She promised me a pair of gold shoes. Princess shoes. Some old friends were having a dinner party, and Mama was so excited. Dula was in bed, but she let me stay up to watch her get dressed. She put on some lipstick and let me wear some too. I still have it.” The little girl leaned down to pick up a small pink handbag from beneath her pillow. She carried the bag with her everywhere and Astaria had wondered what it contained. The child pulled out tube of lipstick. Astaria recognized it as Chanel in its distinctive black casing. Ravia held onto it like a talisman. An artifact of the mother she had lost much too soon. Astaria continued to rock the child back and forth slowly.

“After they left I went to bed. Dula woke up and he got in bed with me. He used to do that all the time. His nanny was asleep too. We didn’t know, you see. We had no idea what had happened until the next morning.”

“I know precious. I know.”

“When we got up, Mama and Babba weren’t back and we knew something was wrong, then they came and told Dula’s nanny what happened. It was such a shock, she tried to keep us from hearing, but there was no way. They killed…They killed everyone at the party.”

Astaria pulled Ravia closer to her chest and continued the rocking motion as the child sobbed helplessly.

“We never saw them again, but Mama’s dress, somebody brought Mama’s dress. It was such a pretty blue, now it was ruined. The blood…Mama’s dress was ruined.”

Astaria wondered who would allow a child to see such a thing, but in these times, anything was possible. She feared that before this madness was over even suffering of this magnitude would pale in comparison to what was coming.

Chapter Ten

Then there was nothing. No one came for them or the children. No one brought any messages or papers. Astaria and Sarai went to the market every day trying glean more information. Rumors were flying fast and furiously. There was a coup in the offing. Then there wasn’t, though some ministers had been arrested and promptly execurted. They held their breath at that bit of news. After more than a week it was obvious that Boulos’s plan, whatever it was, had fallen through and the conspirators were either imprisoned or dead.

They debated back and forth furiously as to the wisdom of trying to escape especially since they still had the policeman uniform. But since they didn’t know for sure what had happened to Boulos or even if they were being watched such a move seemed unnecessarily risky. Developing a cover story without knowing what the original plan had been was virtually impossible. Had they not had the children the decision would’ve been easier. They would have tried to escape. As trained warriors neither of them was particularly fond of sitting around waiting for things to happen to them. But they didn’t want to take chances with the children. Their safety was paramount.

Salat jum`ah,
Friday prayers that week was fraught with anxiety. They debated even taking the children, but eventually concluded it was best to do so. Security in the streets was considerably heightened, with soldiers and police highly visible everywhere. Obviously, violence was anticipated, but Friday prayers would be the best place to get additional information. Of course, much of it would be speculation, or even deliberately planted lies, but sometimes such tales had enough facts in them that could then be pieced together with other lies from which one could sometimes deduce the truth.

The mosque was located on the opposite side of the busy market square, not far from the Hamadis’ home. Like most of the buildings in Laria, it was eggshell colored stucco; it also had a towering minaret piercing clear blue sky. Aqua blue tile accented the building a reminder of the country’s long history as the source of beautiful local tile. As they entered the building, Astaria stepped in right foot first while making her silent supplications to Allah. Given current circumstances her prayer for peace and blessings upon the Prophet was probably more ardent than usual. Holding onto Ravia’s hand she followed Sarai into the smaller area that was cordoned off for women, while Kaeden and Dawood continued into the main sanctuary with Abdullah. She and Sarai prostrated themselves in prayer to make their
rakats
, then knelt for the sermon.

As Dawood had predicted, no one recognized the children, and everyone was so distracted by the gossip as to how the war was going, they probably could’ve marched the French Foreign Legion through the mosque without comment.

After the service, the
imam
caught her eye signaling that he had a communiqué. This would be tricky. Women attending Friday prayers at the masjid was controversial for some, though the imam at this mosque had always permitted it. She approached him, still holding little Ravia’s hand. The child rarely let her out of her sight and given the trauma she’d already endured, Astaria couldn’t blame her. Kaeden was carrying Abdullah, as usual, but also because the press of the crowd was simply too much for the child. When she was close enough to the imam who was speaking to another congregant, she knelt as though to adjust the child’s shoe.