His words barely register, and I scramble back until I hit the bed. “Don’t touch me!”
As if he’d listen. Grabbing my arm, he drags me to my feet and then shoves the headscarf at me. “Cover yourself.”
My hands shake as I tuck the scarf around my hair and slide my feet into the slippers. He curls his thick fingers around my bicep and pulls me down the hall, up the stairs, and out into the courtyard. On a prayer mat, Mateen moans softly while Lisette kneels next to him, smoothing his hair.
Faruk looms over both of them, and when he sees me, he strides over and slaps me across the face. “You are making him worse, not better!”
“No!” I cry. “All of his numbers were better last night. You saw the report!”
Shoving me to the ground, Faruk grabs the back of my neck and holds my head close to the boy. “Does he look better to you? He fell over during morning prayers and he will not get up.”
The pressure of his grip makes me tremble. He could snap my neck in a heartbeat. But I check Mateen’s pulse, then palpate his belly and his lymph nodes. “It’s just barely sunrise,” I say, unable to keep the harsh edge from my voice. “He needs to rest. He shouldn’t be up this early. And what did he eat for dinner last night?”
“My son will be with me for prayers. Always. He ate the same as the rest of the men. Liver kebabs and lentil stew.”
Jerking out of Faruk’s grip, I glare up at him. “I told you he needed fresh fruits and vegetables, bland food, and only the bare minimum of meat. Liver? It’s full of iron—something he does not need more of. You just set him back weeks!”
The kick to my stomach makes me retch, and I double over, desperate to catch my breath and keep down whatever’s left of the few bites of dinner I managed to eat last night. Curling into a ball, I absorb the blows to my back, his fists landing time and time again, until a man’s voice calls out, “Amir Faruk, sir. The doctor cannot cure your son if you…break her.”
When Faruk steps back, panting, I risk peeking up at the other man. Isaad. Every time I see him, I’m more and more certain that he’s not Middle Eastern. Once in a while, he almost sounds like he’s from Texas. Blue eyes stare down at me, something uncertain swimming in his gaze. With a barely imperceptible nod, I thank him for saving me, though I’m not sure whether he’s truly done so or just given me a stay of execution.
“Take her to the lab along with my son,” Faruk grits out. As Zaman drags me along the ground by the back of my tunic, my captor spits in my direction. “I expect my son to join me for prayers by nightfall, Josephine. If he does not, I will hold you responsible.”
9
Ford
It takes everything I have in me to sit, unmoving, as Nomar’s camera broadcasts that asshole kicking and punching Joey as she curls into a ball on the ground. But, she’s alive. And before he started in on her, she looked almost defiant. Strong. He hasn’t broken her yet.
One man drags Joey back inside and another picks up Faruk’s son. His wife, Lisette, a French national whose parents reported her missing ten years ago, trails after them, swiping at her cheeks.
Faruk and another man head for the other side of the courtyard, and Nomar whispers, “I’m going to try to find out where they took Joey.”
On the tablet screen in Trevor’s hands, the shaky video shows hallways, plush rugs, antiques, and heavy draperies. The signal cuts out when he starts down a narrow stairwell, and Trev switches to tracking Nomar’s GPS signal. A small, red dot moves within the outlines of the compound, pausing here and there, occasionally speeding up. Clenching my hands hard enough to leave bruises, I replay the whole scene in my head over and over again.
Joey being dragged outside, the way she immediately focused on the boy, checked on him, protected him.
“Do we have any intel on Faruk’s son?” I whisper. “Joey’s a big deal in pediatric medicine, and that kid looked pretty sick. He’s what? Seven? Eight?”
With a glare, Trevor warns me to be quiet, then points up at the guards in the tower fifty feet away. If we can’t get in there soon, I’m going to implode.
Over comms, Nomar’s harsh whisper sets me on edge. “I found her. The kid’s hooked up to an IV. I couldn’t stick around. Guards and cameras all around here. Give me twenty minutes to map the rest of the place, then I’ll meet you back at the barn. We’ll infiltrate tonight.”
Hunching over the tablet, I try to hunt and peck my way through the massive file Trev compiled on Amir Abdul Faruk. “His son has something called thalassemia. He’s been in the hospital in Kabul four times in the past two years.”
Trevor runs a hand through his hair and then tugs at his black tunic. “I hate this fucking thing. When I quit the CIA, I swore I’d never set foot in this country again.”
“I can’t pay you back for this, man.”
He shakes his head and takes a swig from his canteen. “Second Sight is a family, Ford. You told me that when you hired me. I know I haven’t exactly been the best member of that family, sticking to myself, staying away from social hours and company events, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. We don’t abandon one another. And your Joey looks like a fighter. If we can get her out alive…I think she’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” The truth hits me hard, and I sink down on an old crate. I don’t know her at all anymore. Is she as strong as she looked this morning? Or on the verge of shattering into pieces? “The last time I talked to her, she said we’d never survive if I didn’t trust her. And because I was such a dumbfuck, I didn’t listen. After that…she went through some shit. It was bad, Trev. Worse than…well, anything I could imagine. It changed her. In a way I couldn’t understand. Or she didn’t think I could understand. Hell, she was probably right.”
“Sounds like a fighter to me.” Trevor pulls up the footage from Nomar’s camera and taps the tablet screen. Zooming in on Joey’s face, he stops the playback when she glares up at Faruk. “Look at her, Ford. She’s scared. But she’s not backing down.”
The video quality isn’t the best, but he’s right. Her shoulders are thrown back and her hands clenched at her sides.
Nomar knocks twice at the barn door, then slips inside. “That place is a fucking fortress. There are cameras in every hallway, one in the room where Joey was treating the kid, and I counted twenty-two other guards. No idea how many stay on at night, but this isn’t going to be easy.”
