Page 10 of Legacy's Call

“There are some men. Men who work to help those who are still in the country. I don’t know if I could get word to them, but I could try.”

Fleur’s heart pounded against her chest. “Please try. Please … as long as it doesn’t put you in danger.”

Rana nodded. “I don’t know how long it will take or even if they will respond.”

“Anything you could do. I have money. Not a lot, but if needed, I can pay.” She was grasping at straws. “I would want to go with the children and be brought back.”

“It is a two-day walk through the tunnels and back. You’d be missed.” Rana’s lips were pinched tight again.

“I’ll need to work on that so no one would know.” Fleur paced a couple of steps and then turned back to Rana. “I could wear men’s clothing and tuck my hair away.”

Rana looked at her. “It could work. Dirty your face and wear loose clothing.”

“Yes, exactly,” Fleur agreed immediately. “I wouldn’t talk. I’m taller than any Syrian woman.” That was the truth. At five feet ten inches tall, she was taller than most Syrian men, too.

Rana stared at her. “I will try.”

“Thank you.” Fleur hugged the woman tightly.

Rana grabbed her by the arms and held her away. “I will not accept thanks for sending you intodanger. How will you select the people to go with you, and what happens if you don’t make it?”

Fleur’s enthusiasm fell immediately. “I’m not important if I don’t make it. I have no one back in the States. My father died last year.”

“And how would you pick which of us would go with you?” Rana asked again.

Fleur put her hands on her hips and stared at the toes of her dusty boots. “The oldest boys and girls. They’re in the most danger.” When the camp was shuttered, any remaining internally displaced people, specifically children, would be vulnerable. In all probability, the boys would be forced to fight. The factions forced boys as young as eight into war as soldiers or suicide bombers. Of course, some boys were forced into prostitution, too. The girls, as young as eight, were forced to marry members of ISIS and were then beaten, sexually abused, and forced into a life of sexual slavery. And the Syrian Government turned a blind eye to the abuses, failing to condemn the practices or speak out against them in any way.

Rana copied Fleur’s pacing motions as she thought. “It would violate the directives of the camp.”

“When we follow the directives, people die,”Fleur said as she watched her friend pace. “I can’t keep doing the same thing.”

Rana stopped. “Youaren’t doing the same thing. You’re not responsible. There is a process to protect everyone.”

“Then who’s responsible? Someone has to be, and they aren’t protecting the convoys. They’re closing this camp down, and what happens when our time runs out? What happens to everyone? What happens to you?” Fleur’s eyes filled with tears. “Debbie, Sarah, Carl, Tran, Fen, Lou, and Mel are dead. And how many children were taken? What about them? They’re either fighting a war, forced labor, prostitutes, or married off to monsters. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to help.”

Rana walked up to her. “Ask yourself this, Fleur: What will happen to you if you take those people and can’t get back? While I try to contact the men I used to know, think about that. Sometimes, self-preservation is all you have left inside you. So many here in this camp and outside have nothing left except that thought. If they can live longer or better because they turn you over to these people, theywill. Whether it is for food, passage out of here, or favors for the future, they will use knowledge of what you are doing to take care of themselves. So, you can tellno one. No one. That means you’recompletely alonewith desperate people during desperate times. Knowing this,Iwouldn’t make the journey. What makes you think you’ll survive or come back?”

Fleur stared at her friend. “I understand the risks. I know nothing is guaranteed. But I have to investigate the possibility. It’ll be worth it if I could get one person to another camp that won’t be shuttering.”

“And how will you tell the people in the other camps where to meet you? The tunnels have outlets everywhere.”

Fleur stopped short. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. All of this was a leap of faith, and she was flying at warp speed without any navigation. “I … I don’t know. But I can work on that. I’ll figure it out.” She had time, didn’t she? Rana’s contacts would take time to reach.

Rana put her hand on Fleur’s shoulder. “Be sure you want this, Fleur. Be sure there is no other way.”

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Fleur looked back at the vast expanse of tents that housed the displaced people of Syria. What had happened wasn’t acceptable. “I need to pursue it, and I will find a way to make it work.” She’d spend every dollar in her savings to grease as many palms as possible. No matter how often she had to go through thosetunnels and risk her life. Saving the kids would be worth it.

Rana frowned and then lifted her chin. “Someone is coming.”

Fleur turned around and watched one of the young boys run toward them. The boy animatedly spoke to Rana and then turned to run back to the camp.

“You have a call from the States. They will call back in fifteen minutes. Nasir said he has been looking for you for a long time and that you should return now.” Rana turned, and they walked back together. At the admin tent, Rana whispered, “Think about this, Fleur.”

“I will.” She had no doubt she would think of little else. The walk to the communications tent didn’t take long.

She walked in, and Adil, one of the local nationals who helped with communications, handed her the satellite phone. “You have one minute until he calls back.”

“Thank you.” She took the phone and walked over to the table in the corner of the tent. It wasn’t long before the phone shrilled, and she answered it. “Fleur Buchanan.”

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