Capítulo 7: Part 1: Chapter 7: the truth is not always easy.
She looked at him quizzically. "Why?" His news floored her. Miserableness made way for curiosity.
"Because I had to. My parents forced me." His gaze on the landscape.
"Your parents?" She remembered them. They were never fond of her. Coming from a mining community, she was beneath their class. The Scott's never accepted her.
"Yes, I told them you carried my child, but they didn't care. My father enlisted me. Before I could get away, they dragged me away. All communication severed." He removed his glasses and cleaned them before he concealed his eyes once more. Never meeting her watchful gaze.
"I tried to contact you after the basic training, but you were not at the flat. I was going insane with worry and searched for you, but had to return or face jail time."
Silently she examined Brady, her own hurt so real she struggled to believe his version. She hated him. It kept her going; motivated her.
"The landlord evicted me. I didn't eat for days," she peered at the surroundings. A slight breeze played with her curls. "I slept with men for a meal while my body ached with the pregnancy. The things they did with me I don't want to remember." Her disgrace was enormous and Brady wrapped her in his arms. With her face buried in his shoulder, she cried.
Once calmer she pushed him away - the sadness replaced with disdain. "Because I was underweight, starving in fact, he came too early. A police officer took us to the hospital where the nurses helped me. A benefactor enrolled me in the nursing program. Here I am, re-experiencing the events through the many women in this god-forsaken country." Her voice laced with frustration.
"I am sorry for what I have done to you. I should have fought harder," he sighed. "I still love you, Sonia. You always had my heart," he assured her.
She stopped him cold.
"Please go, Brady. It isn't true. There's nothing more to say."
"If only …"
"There's no if's, Brady. You're too late." She pushed him away.
Brady watched her disappear into the medic tent and his shoulders drooped.
Yes, he was too late, and he lost.
***
Shielded eyes followed Sonia’s retreating back before it sculpted into a frown. He observed the white man as he slumped with defeat and clicked his tongue: "Nu lalaki bodas teu terang kumaha ngatur awéwé," (The white man does not know how to manage his woman.) He grinned.
"Éta awéwé anu kuring nyarioskeun ka anjeunIt." (It is the woman I told you about) the soldier said. Well-hidden from prying eyes they followed the woman as she did her duties.
"She knows the white man's medicine. She can help," he explained.
"Why do I need another woman?"
"You don't have one like her. She is a healer." He glanced at the leader. "If you don't want her as a woman, I will take her."
Since he saw her on Monday, he was obsessed with her. His prestige would grow even more with her at his side.
The leader snickered: "You don't know how to please a woman, and that one is trouble."
"I have learned," he hissed. The older man waved him to silence.
"No, you're right. I can use another woman."
"You right, she is trouble," the youngster replied. He wanted her from the moment he saw her.
"We must plan this carefully; too many eyes," the leader said.
"No, we can do it when they leave."
"No, I don't trust the white man." The leader nodded in Brady's direction.
"We do it when she's alone."
***
Iraqi desert.
"Sergeant Clark, where is the vehicle report? Ralph put it on my table. I'm sure of it."
After a quick search, Doug handed it to the colonel. "Here it is, Sir."
Curt snapped it away. "Get me, Saunders!" he ordered.
Curt peered out the window. The phone conversation he had with his daughter disturbed him.
Jillian never cried. The truth disclosed through tears shocked him to the core. It was not fabricated from a young, deranged woman looking for attention. No, rather from a much abused one. Why didn't they tell him any of this earlier?
How could Vivian do this?
Her lover seduced Jillian, and she did not stop it. Even his son, Mark, two years younger than Jillian, suffered abuse under the man.
He was still motionless when Clark and Saunders returned.
"Sir?" the sergeant said.
Startled Curt looked at both and barked: "At ease!"
"Take a seat."
With the temperature at 47°C, their clothes were saturated with sweat. A slight breeze filtered through the flaps, but it made no difference. The fan did not disturbed the air either.
Curt offered them water and returned to the report, the shortages of parts for the vehicles, serious.
When a soldier approached Doug with a message from radio control, they stopped. He relayed the message to the colonel in a hushed tone.
Curt excused himself. General Cartwright wanted to meet.
"Good day, Curt." The impressive figure of the general appeared on the screen. Friendly greetings exchanged before the general came to the point.
"Private T. J. Cummings has allegedly murdered a woman. They said you refused to send the file."
"Yes Sir, I did."
"Why?"
"Something is off with this case. Before I hand them the file, I want to speak to Cummings first, sir."
"He is no longer under your command after he deserted his post."
"No matter, General, he needs help. I don't think he did it."
"I don't care what you believe. Send the file and get it done."
Curt did not like it. That the general phoned him, meant someone higher up demanded it.
He had been optimistic about Private T. J. Cummings' future. His knowledge made him an asset. He lived in the country his entire life; he knew the area and spoke the language fluently.
Back then Curt hoped the soldier would explain the events which triggered the AWOL. No one had seen him ever since, until now.
Why would he murder someone? It was not his nature; he was military potential. Now he faced jail.
Back at the office Ralph awaited him with another emergency and sent the file to the mailroom. With it he sent hope that all would work out for him and that his future would not be marred by this case.
The envelope marked:
TOP SECRET General Cartwright.
Capítulo 8: Part 1: Chapter 8: Romance was not for old colonel’s. Never.
Thursday afternoon, Iraqi desert, 25 April 2019.
"Sir, it's time to go."
"Why?" Curt asked without looking at his aid. Doug smiled. The man had forgotten about the getaway.
"The chopper will take you to Bagdad at 22h00," he informed him undisturbed.
"You delivered the file?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. I will get my stuff ready."
"Here is the itinerary and your tickets."
"Thanks, Doug. It has been a while since I have been this excited about a getaway."
"Enjoy, Sir."
***
Curt had checked the website. If it resembled the pictures, he should enjoy the stay.
At 20h00 he rushed to his quarters and changed into civvies. From the shelf he grabbed an overnight bag, throwing in the necessities. At the last moment, he packed a dress shirt and pants. Maybe …
The mirror showed a person of confidence - a faint grin enhanced the attractive face. He still had it and stretched. The broad shoulders looked great under the shirt and the denim gloved his narrow hips sporting well-toned legs underneath.
The moment he sat in the chopper he relaxed.
All the worries would be Monday's problem.
The younger man was kind enough to offer it to him, and he will not disappoint him.
He laid back and listened as the pilot went through the checklist, and then lifted. The swooping blades overpowered every other sound. God, he loved it; shutting his eyes with appreciation.
Once in the air his thoughts drifted to the children. Guilt: a strong emotion he had to deal with. Vivian's lover left emotional scars on his boy. Mark did not know where he belonged. He always believed his children should find their own path, but he will let go of that resolution if he had too. The military a good straightener.
Jillian also struggled, and with the added pressures of her studies she barely held on. There was more to the story. Nevertheless, she did not confide in him. His children needed him.
Rattled, he prayed - something he neglected for years. The weight of parenting lay heavy on his heart. He could only speak to One Person.
***
21h00 Bentiu, Thursday evening.
Back in her room, a knock disturbed the quietness. In no mood to receive visitors, Sonia opened the door. Haleema greeted her with a soft smile. She opened the door wider. "Come in, Matron."
"Thank you, Sonia." The door closed with a soft click.
"Please sit." She watched as the matron examined her living space and followed her gaze. Except for a table which sported an empty vase, a handmade frame, a gift from the matron's daughter and a wired beaded rose, there were no other memorabilia. A decorated lamp in the room's corner removed the sombreness.
When a yawn escaped, she covered her mouth.
"I do apologies for my late intrusion. I know how tired you must be. It was a long week."
Haleema lifted her hand before Sonia could respond. "I have wonderful news I had to share with you. I know this is unexpected, but I took the liberty to book a holiday," she said, her soft voice filled with care.
"You can't go on like this. You need a break."
"But …"
"No buts. You will leave early tomorrow morning to Khartoum. There my uncle will meet you and fly you to Cairo. An Alitalia flight will take you to Valetta, on the island of Malta. I have a nephew who works at the Excelsior Grand Hotel. He arranged everything. Your visit includes a stay of two nights and three days."
When Sonia finally understood the meaning, she embraced the woman. Shock made way for surprise but raised her spirit tremendously.
"This is a wonderful surprise, thank you."
"You deserve this holiday, dear."
"I didn't expect this, though."
"The best part is that the spas are inside the hotel." She handed her a white envelope. Tugged inside gift vouchers waited.
"The island is small enough to stroll or to rent a scooter to the places they recommend and maybe have a romance." Warmth spread over her as her friend chuckled.
"Move on, Sonia; find someone to love and cherish. You have so much love to give." She stared at her friend.
Was her loneliness that obvious? She could not even remember the last time she had a relationship. Romance, the last thing on her mind.
"This is such a surprise. I never thought you would actually do this. Thank you."
"You are welcome." About to leave, Haleema stopped and turned. "The weather is sunny, pack your bikini."
"Yes, Ma'am." She giggled, the sound so unfamiliar to her. Her insides flipped with the unexpected adventure and she fell on her bed. The idea revitalising and she did an air-dance. This is something she had not done in a long time, but the act so free that a smile erupted on her lovely face.
Fascinated with the island, she searched the web. The rich history and baroque landmarks inspired her.
Tucked away at the southernmost part of Europe, it promised to be the perfect place to test the waters for romance.
The opportunity to change a good possibility and opened the door to the cupboard with renewed energy.
"Thank you, Lord."
***
04h00 Bentiu 26 April 2019.
"You sure you heard correctly?" Jabu asked.
Abasi looked around, terrified of the danger. Die-hards roamed the empty streets, women of the night advertised their goods. The youth stood close to burning konkas, sipping liquor they confiscated from drunkards.
Jabu had asked him to meet at the hospital. A fierce expression marked his face that demanded obedience even if you knew it was wrong.
"She leaves tonight and will be back Sunday night."
"I can grab her at the airport. It will be the best place while it is quiet," he mumbled.
Abasi regarded him with trepidation. If not for the money he owed, he would have never done it. He admired nurse Sonia. His mother would kill him when she learned about his deceit. He knew he mixed with the wrong crowd when he lost SSP20 (South Sudanese pound) during gambling. He did not know how to repay him, but Jabu said he should not worry. It sounded good at first … information for a clean slate. He never thought Sonia's name would be the one when he agreed to it.
Jabu leaned on an old run-down jeep parked in the shadows of the dilapidated building. Talking with a person inside the jeep shielded in the shadows.
The moment nurse Main left the living quarters, Abasi stepped deeper into the shadows as she got in the taxi.
"I want you to let me know if her plans changed … and Abasi, not a word to anyone."
"Yes, Jabu." Abasi received a slap.
"Fool! You never say my name in public," he hissed while he skimmed the area.
"Punten." (Sorry) Tears pricked his eyes, his lip quivering.
"Run, baby!" Jabu chuckled. "Not a word to Mommy."
Abasi ran as fast as his twelve-year-old legs could carry him the five blocks before he reached his home.
***
Jabu scrutinised the boy as he hurried away. Jabu had a name amongst the children. Enforcing fear, a game he played with anyone who dared to challenge him.
"Well?" The leader's voice trembled with impatience, a trail of smoke the only sign of his existence.
"Is everything in order?"
"Yes, Haji." He swallowed the fear that wanted to stop him. He only had one chance to do this.
"I set it for Monday morning. The kid will collaborate with us?"
"Yes, all set, Haji. The kid's scared; he will not talk," he replied, his face a blank mask. One wrong word would alarm the leader of his deception.
"Good! I have great plans for you, Jabu."
"Thank you, Haji." He feigned humbleness and shielded the grin.
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