Page 62 of Deadly Betrayal
“I’m not quite sure. Mybabaalwayssaid I was born the year after a fancy American president visitedKabul. That’s all I know.”
Shahram gasped and Khalid’s stomach dropped.U.S. President Eisenhower had visited the capital in 1959. The oldman was only in his early fifties. Khalid would have guessed theman was eighty, instead of a mere decade older than himself. Hefelt sick at the unfairness of life, at the suffering of the poor.Improving healthcare and the quality of life for his fellowcountrymen would be high on his list of priorities once he waselected president.
“Let’s go,” he told his soon-to-bebrother-in-law. His purpose reasserted, Khalid went in search ofthe woman who would stand by his side as they rebuiltAfghanistan.
For another handful of afghanis, a beggaroutside the guesthouse sold him the knowledge that an unusuallytall man had entered the establishment a few hours before alongwith an Afghan woman. It had to be Azita and the soldier.
Now, standing outside a door at the end ofthe guesthouse corridor, Khalid had to question the sanity of hisapproach. At least one man, the American, was in the room, possiblymore. And most likely the American was heavily armed.
And what weapons did Khalid have besides hisrighteous indignation? Shahram would be useless in a fight ofmuscle or will. Khalid did have the law on his side, but for it tocount, he’d have to call in the ANP, something he desperatelywanted to avoid.
He needed Azita with him, not dead.
The police wouldn’t hesitate to charge herwith adultery and as many other crimes as they could plumb from thelong arm of Sharia law. For Azita’s sake, he had to do this on hisown, if he could.
Shahram fidgeted beside him, shifting hisweight from foot to foot. When he moved to speak, Khalid coveredhis mouth. “Shh.” Right now, he had the advantage of surprise,which he did not want to lose. And he certainly couldn’t just knockon the door. Doing that would put him face to face with a gun.
He grabbed Shahram’s arm and returned to theentrance where he sought the owner. He pretended to be with thecouple, and that he’d misplaced his keys. A few more handfuls ofcash, and Khalid had a key to the room.
Khalid dragged Shahram out of the entrance,then pulled up short. “Stay here. If you see anyone coming thisway, stop them,” he whispered before cautiously sneaking up to thedoor. Silently, he slid the key into the lock. There was a smallsnick when the mechanism inside released.
After filling his lungs, he slammed open thedoor and barreled inside. Azita stood behind a small table next toa window on the far side of the room. With her were two men: theAmerican and the movie star. Khalid’s heart faltered when his gazezeroed in on her hand clasping the American’s. “Azita! What is themeaning of this?”
“Agha Khalid.” Azita gasped, dropping theman’s hand to cover her mouth. Khalid glared at her. She’d alloweda man other than himself to touch her, to hold her hand. Redblurred his vision and his gut roiled. What else had she allowedhim?
The actor jumped out of his seat, trying toplace himself in front of Azita.
“Nic, no!” The American forced the actorbehind the table before stepping around it. Khalid would have toget through him to reach his fiancée. “Stay back,” the Americanordered. It wasn’t clear whom he was addressing, but since theman’s hand went to his weapon, Khalid chose to believe the man wastalking to him. “I take it you are Khalid Mullazai.”
“I am.” Shahram had already told him theother man’s name, Kaden Christiansen.
Looking around the bigger man’s shoulders,Azita asked, “H-how did you find me?”
Khalid wasn’t about to spill his secrets.Instead, he narrowed his eyes at the American. “Have you any ideawhat you have done?”
“Do you? Underage marriage is illegal, evenin this country.”
“Bah.” Khalid swatted his hand. TheAmerican’s argument was an old and invalid one. “That law is inplace only to appease Westerners. In Islam, a father decides when adaughter is ready for marriage.”
Azita came around the table, her eyes blazinglike those of a predator on the hunt. She truly was exquisite. Shestopped when the American’s arm shot across her middle. Khalid wassuddenly thankful he was unarmed, or the man would be dead for thatoffense alone.
“Agha Khalid.” In an unusually bold move, shemet his gaze and held it. “You know my husband would not haveagreed to this marriage between Laila and Khan Tariq. This is foryour own benefit, not hers. Admit it.”
He laughed. “My future-wife, I freely admitit. Marriages have always been arranged with the benefit of thefather—or guardian—in mind.”
The American’s eyes had not strayed fromKhalid since he’d entered the room. But that changed when Khalidmentioned Azita’s new status.
“You’re engaged?” The man’s expression—hisvoice, everything in his manner—betrayed his surprise. “Azita, youneed to explain what the fuck is going on here. Was this all somesort of trick? What are you after?” The American’s face blanchedand he shifted subtly to better guard the actor. “God, are youafter Nic?”
Azita clutched the edges of her tunic.“No, Kaden. It’s not like that. I didn’t tell you about myengagement becauseInever agreed to it.”
Her attempted craftiness made Khalid smile.It might work on the American, but it wouldn’t work on him. Sheknew as much.
“Is that true?” the American asked him.
“It hardly matters. I am her guardian. I willdecide whom she marries and when.”
“Azita?”
