Heroes Never Die (20 page)

Chapter Twenty:

In the privacy of the bedroom, Stephanie removed the pistol from her purse and ran her fingers over the cold steel.  The plan was back on track.  Abdullah’s death would put a quick end to the war
and save thousands of lives, but all she really cared about was getting the hell out of there.  And she would do anything to make that happen.

She heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom.  Abdullah was not alone.  Her eyes searched for a safe hiding place for the pistol.  She quickly stuffed it under the mattress and the bedspread dropped to the floor just as he walked into the room.  A guard stood behind him.

Abdullah’s eyes immediately dropped to the bed.  Stephanie’s heart pounded with terror, certain that she had just been caught with a pistol, but he was only interested in her purse.  He motioned to the guard to get it.

“What’s going on?”  The guard seized her purse and hurried out of the room.

“That thief had every opportunity to put something in your purse,” Abdullah said.  “I’m having the contents checked as a precaution.  With this war going on, I have made a lot of enemies.”  Stephanie couldn’t speak.  A moment sooner and she would have been caught with a pistol in her hand.

Abdullah lifted her hands and examined the scrapes on her palms.  “You’re still trembling,” he said.  “When we are back in Saudi Arabia, you will not have to worry about thieves.”  Stephanie forced a grateful smile.  She would not be returning to his idea of utopia.

“Your portfolio arrived from your editor while we were out.”

Stephanie was only concerned about the secret information she had hidden on her disk.  “Was my story sent to Marcus?”

“Your package was picked up yesterday,” he assured her.  He ran his fingers through her hair.  She watched his eyes focus on her torn lip and she turned her face away to deter him.  He began to fondle her neck with his mouth when a servant knocked on the door.  “Yes?” he answered in a gruff tone.

“A Marcus Roy is on the phone for the sultana.  He said it’s urgent.”

Abdullah let out a puff of hot air.  “Would you like me to handle this for you?”

Marcus would be telling her when to carry out the assassination.  She had to talk to him herself.  “I would like to tell him goodbye if you don’t mind.”

Abdullah nodded his approval.  She was willing to terminate her career and live her life solely for him.  He took the phone from his servant and handed it to her.

Stephanie sat down on the edge of the bed to take the call.  Her mind was alert.  “Hello, Marcus.”

“Mickey, it’s good to hear your voice.  How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”  She felt uncomfortable with Abdullah standing over her.

“I have some good news for you.  Michael is well enough to cover the election results.  His doctor released him to travel.  He’s flying in to George Town tonight.”

That was all that Stephanie needed to hear.  The helicopter was flying in that very night.  I’ll be home by morning.  “That is good news because I’m leaving for Saudi Arabia tomorrow.”

“Then our timing is perfect.”

“Yes
, perfect.  I’m very relieved.”

“You’ve done a fine job for Minute Magazine.  I’m sorry you won’t be with us anymore.  If you’re ever back in the States, stop in to see us.”

“Thank you.  I would like that.”

“By the way, I almost didn’t get through to you.  Whoever answered the phone had never heard of Mickey Chapman.  He said your name is sultana something or other?”

“Abdullah changed my name to Jahan Aara.  It means adornment of the world.”

“The name suits you.  I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks, but I’m not planning on needing it…Goodbye, Marcus.”  Relieved, Stephanie placed the phone on the nightstand.  She was in control of her own destiny again.

“Good news,” she said as she stood to her feet to give Abdullah the details of the call.  “Michael, the journalist who broke his leg, is well enough to travel.  He can cover the election results, after all.  I’m free to return to Saudi Arabia.”

“I am happy with the way things turned out, but I’m afraid your trip here has not been a pleasant one.  When the war is over, I will bring you back so that you can enjoy yourself.”  Then he began to undress her, caressing her body with his mouth as he did.  Stephanie knew there was no way out this time.

S
he squeezed her eyes closed as though she could shut out what was happening, as though she could numb the piercing pain of betraying Brian.  Tears streamed down her face.  Brian, her mind screamed.  I’m so sorry, Brian.  Abdullah slid off of her and fell into a deep sleep.  And Stephanie, his fluids burning her raw insides, crushed that she had committed adultery, silently soaked the pillow with broken-hearted tears.

Chapter Twenty-One:

A light from the living room cast an eerie shadow across the bed.  The spirit of death entered the room.  Stephanie glanced at the clock.  It was 3:30 a.m., time to carry out the assassination.  She mentally rehearsed the plan.  All she had to do was put a bullet through Abdullah’s heart, shoot the guards,
and then run to the beach and wait for the helicopter to rescue her.  She looked at Abdullah’s face one last time.  He was sleeping peacefully, as though he didn’t have a care in the world.  She moved her hand over his warm body and felt the movement of his chest with every life-giving heartbeat.  He was so strong, and so wrong to have trusted her.

Stephanie slid out of bed and carefully removed the pistol from underneath the mattress.  She loaded the magazine and aimed the pistol at Abdullah’s chest.  He was such an unsuspecting target.  The game of survival suddenly didn’t seem fair.  As she watched his chest move up and down, she began to have second thoughts.
  She remembered how much he loved his son and how he delighted in holding him on his lap.  Then she heard Kyle’s voice warning her to ignore tenderhearted emotions.  Her hand began to shake as she struggled to steady her aim.  “I’m sorry, Abdullah,” her voice trembled.  “I don’t have a choice.”

Stephanie turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to watch him die, and then she eased her finger back on the trigger.  Her dad’s voice suddenly echoed in the room.  “I didn’t raise you to be an unfeeling human being,” he reprimanded.  Nervous sweat soaked her face.  She could hear her heart pounding inside her chest.  Then she lowered her weapon.  She couldn’t do it.  There had to be another way.

She hurried out to the terrace and quietly closed the door behind her.  She stood in the dark corner and forced herself to take slow deep breaths to calm down.  She could hear the roar of the ocean.  Freedom was so close.  She looked into the black horizon.  The helicopter was on its way to rescue her, and she was running out of time.  She walked to the edge of the terrace and looked down, wondering whether she could jump, but it was too high to survive the fall.  There was only one way out.

Stephanie went back to the corner and concentrated on the reasons why Abdullah had to die.  His death would put a quick end to the war, it would save thousands of lives, and it would allow her to return to the United States.  She faced the bedroom with renewed determination.  Like it or not, she knew what she had to do.  She went back inside and stood beside the bed.  She raised her arm and aimed the pistol.  Then her eyes filled with horror.  Blood was oozing out of Abdullah’s chest.  Someone had already shot him.  She covered her mouth to keep from screaming.
  She frantically stared at his corpse, wondering what to do next.  She remembered the rest of the plan and ran toward the door to shoot her way out.  The suite door was hanging wide open.  A guard was sprawled across the floor in front of the doorway, and his blood splattered the walls.  Intense fear paralyzed his gaping eyes.  His blood streamed through the hallway.  Stephanie stared at him for a second, too scared to move.  She had to get out of there before she was next.

She leaped over his body and recklessly ran through the hallway.  The guard in front of the elevator was gurgling his last breath.  She ran past him and headed toward the double doors that led to the staircase.  The doors were dripping with blood.  The guard’s lifeless body was sprawled out on the floor blocking both doors.  She muzzled her hand over her mouth and stared at his blood soaked uniform, wondering how to make it past him.  She squeezed sideways through the small opening in the door, and then she vaulted down the stairs.

Stephanie ran toward the beach, oblivious to the guardrail she had been trained to hurdle.  She slammed into it and somersaulted onto the boardwalk.  Her head and arm smacked the concrete.  Blood gushed down her face.  Her left arm snapped with a loud crack.  She struggled to pull herself to her feet.  Her body reeled with dizziness.  She took a few steps and fell to the sand.  Her arm throbbed with excruciating pain, but she was too close to freedom to give up.  She forced herself to her feet and staggered to the ocean and dropped to the sand.  Her body trembled with shock.  She lay on her back and braced her broken arm on top of her stomach to support it.  She had made it to the beach.  Freedom was only minutes away.  She watched the dark sky with expectancy, wondering how much longer she could hold on.  She waited for what seemed like hours.  Sirens blared in the distance.  Abdullah and his guards had been found.  Then Stephanie’s insides filled with terror.  Too much time had passed.  The helicopter was not coming to rescue her.  “No!” she cried out into the cold darkness.  “You promised me, Kyle!  You promised me nothing could go wrong!”

She struggled to pull herself to her feet so that she could find a place to hide.  She staggered with dizziness
, and her vision was blurred.  She took another step and collapsed.  Gritty sand filled her mouth, and she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness.  She reviewed her options while she still had the capacity to think.  She could allow the Saudis to execute her, or she could put a bullet through her head and get it over with quickly.  She strained to lift the pistol toward her head and squeezed the trigger.  The bullet whooshed into the sand.

***

Stephanie slowly opened her eyes.  Confused, she looked around, wondering where she was.  Her head and arm throbbed with pain.  An IV drip was in her right hand and her left arm was in a cast.  She touched the crown of her head and felt stitches, and she could smell the sting of antiseptic.

“Hi there
, remember me?”  She moved her head to see a man sitting on the edge of her bed.  She winced with pain.  “Just lie still,” he said as he brushed back her hair.  “You had quite a knock on your head.  I didn’t think you were going to pull through.”

His voice sounded strangely familiar.  “Who are you?” she asked in a faint whisper, wondering whether he was the same man she had seen playing volleyball.

“Dr. Rudy Lukens.  And I finally found out your name.  Only these were not the circumstances I was hoping for.”

“You have to help me, Dr. Lukens.”

“Shhhhh.  I’m doing everything I can.”  Someone pounded on the door.  “Just rest,” he said as he walked toward the door.  Then Ayub rushed into the room.  Stephanie could hear his booming voice.

“We are taking the sultana back to Saudi Arabia.  You are to release her into my custody at once.”

“She cannot be moved,” Rudy protested.  “She’s in shock, she has a concussion, and her arm needs to be kept elevated.”

“I am not interested in your diagnosis, Dr. Lukens.  I am only interested in delivering swift justice.”

“But if you move her right now, she could die before she ever reaches Saudi Arabia.”

“She’s going to die anyway.  Have her ready in ten minutes.”  Then Ayub left the room.

Rudy returned to her bedside.  “Sultana?”  He waited for her to open her eyes.  “The Saudis are taking you back to Saudi Arabia.  I’ve done everything I can to keep you here, but there’s nothing more I can do.  I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t do it, Dr. Lukens.  But they’re not going to believe me.  They’re going to torture me.  Please help me.”

“How?”

“I don’t want to die in Saudi Arabia.  Prescribe something that will take my life.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Please,” she persisted.  “I’m going to die anyway.  Let me die by my choice
, not theirs.”

“All right,” he finally said.  “I’ll give you a large dose of morphine.  But be sure it’s what you want before you swallow it, because once you do
, it’s all over.”

“There’s one more thing I need you to do for me.”  Rudy moved closer to hear her faint whisper.  “I’m married to a man named Brian Fairchild.  He’s a doctor like you.  He’s in Turkey fighting in the war.  When the war is over, I want you to find him.  He lives in Chevy Chase, Maryland.  Tell him I love him more than anything else in the world.  And tell him I was set up.  He’ll understand.”

“But I thought you were King Hamid’s wife?”

“I was
, and I wasn’t.  It’s a long story.”

“You work for the CIA, don’t you?”

She had already said too much.  “Just promise me you’ll find my husband.  Tell him exactly what I told you.”

“All right
, I’ll give your husband your message.  But there’s something I still want to know – what’s your name?”

“I am Stephanie – Stephanie Fairchild.”

Rudy reached for her hand.  “I will never forget you, Stephanie Fairchild.”  Stephanie felt the warm squeeze of his hand.  Then she closed her eyes and drifted into darkness.  The next time she opened her eyes, her IV had been removed and her arm had been lowered from its sling.  Then she felt Dr. Lukens slip a small envelope into her hand.  Ayub stormed into the room just in time to see the pass.

“What did you give her?” Ayub demanded.

“Pain pills – for the long trip.”

“Give them to me.”  He snatched the pills out of Stephanie’s hand.

“It’s probably best if you hold onto her medicine.  When she needs something for pain,” Rudy said as he nodded toward the envelope that contained the lethal dose of morphine, “give her all six tablets.”

“I think you are lying, Dr. Lukens.”

“And I think you are a son of a bitch.”

“If you were in Saudi Arabia,” he threatened, “you would be charged with a criminal offense and executed.”

“Well I’m not in Saudi Arabia,” he scoffed.  “And there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.”

“The sultana does not need anything for pain,” Ayub retaliated as he dropped the envelope onto the floor and ground the tablets under his heel.  “She will suffer just as she made our people suffer…Guard!”  The guard came into the room to lead Stephanie away.  “Your plan to help the sultana failed.  And there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.”

The guard took hold of Stephanie’s arm.  She looked back at Dr. Lukens.  Please don’t forget to tell Brian how much I love him, her eyes pleaded.  Then she was escorted out of the clinic for the long flight to Riyadh.

Chapter Twenty-Two:

Riyadh was covered in a blanket of darkness.  The airbus screeched as it touched down on the illuminated runway and rolled to a complete stop.  Stephanie was restrained until all of the other passengers disembarked, and then the guard led her down the portable staircase.  Her face was completely covered with the veil, but she could see Tareef mourning over his brother’s casket, as though he were hugging the brother he loved one last time.  Then he stood up and motioned for the body to be taken away.

“Greetings, sultana,” Tareef said.  “I promised my brother I would welcome you into the royal household, but that was before you murdered him.”

“I didn’t kill him.  Please,” she pleaded.  “You have to believe me.”

Tareef instantly backhanded her mouth.  Stephanie gasped for her breath.  She could taste blood in her mouth.  Her knees buckled to the ground, but the guard yanked her back onto her feet.  “You are a liar and a fraud.  Take her away,” he gruffly ordered.

The guard shoved her toward the car.  He pushed on her head until her body folded into the back seat.  Then she was driven to the Palace of Justice to stand trial without any delay.

Stephanie was led to a table that was positioned in the middle of a small room.  As she waited to be questioned, she tried to come up with a story that would prove her innocence.  She knew her chances of surviving were slim, but the more she thought about Brian and her dad, the more determined she became to fight for her life.  She mentally rehearsed her story, knowing that she was still enmeshed in a deadly game of survival, except now, Tareef was her opponent.