Page 73 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Millie

Trebevic Mountains, Bosnia

2019

We get to Sayid’s bedroom and go inside. He tells the armed men to wait outside. He motions for me to take a seat over by the window, and he sits opposite me. There’s a gun on the table between us that’s closer to him. I know I could beat him to it, but there’s no way I’d get past all the other guns in the house, so I just sit down for now.

“I wanted to tell you a little bit about your mother. Would you like that?” He’s smiling at me like we’re just chilling out at a family reunion. I don’t say anything. He continues anyway.

“Her name was Nejra. You look just like her. You definitely have her eyes. Has anyone ever told you that? I’m guessing your hair is from your dad. I never knew who he was until I found out you were searching for me. Amar told me. Don’t let that disappoint you. I’m guessing you had some kind of connection with him. Your mother did. Nejra and Amar were best friends. He called your father to tell him about you. He confessed everything to me when I found him in Portugal where you tried to hide him from me. He didn’t have much of a choice. I would have killed his family. I could tell by the way he spoke of you that he cared about you, but he cares about his own family more. He told me your name, and I looked up your father. He was killed by Al-Qaeda which was good. I wish I had killed him, but at least he’s dead.”

That gun is looking more and more appealing to me. I could kill him before they killed me, and that might be okay with me right now. He sees me looking at the gun.

“The gun is for you. It’s loaded. If you want to kill me, it’s fine. I’m in my last months anyway. My soldiers will kill you, though. It would be a fitting end for both of us. Don’t you think?”

I’m just staring at him, trying not to tell him too much with my expression.

“I would never kill you. I had my chance when you were a baby. I couldn’t do it then, and I can’t do it now. I loved your mother more than anyone on earth. I don’t care about you. You’re obviously one of them now, but I would never do that to Nejra.”

He pauses and pulls a picture out of his pocket, and slides it across the table to me. It’s a picture of a family—parents and two kids. The kids are around ten years old.

“That’s my family. My parents, Nejra and me. We had such happy times before the war. . .”

His voice fades off as he stands up and walks over to a desk. He picks up a framed picture and puts it on the table in front of me.

“This is Nejra about a year before she died, before she met your dad, before she changed our lives forever. She was a silly girl. Never serious about anything. I was like that before our parents died, but she stayed like that. My heart closed the day they died, but her heart seemed to open even more. It was like my parents’ spirits shone through her. I might have gotten to that point, too, if she hadn’t died. If she hadn’t been murdered.”

“Do you believe Haroun Hadzic actually killed her?” My voice made him jump a little. I don’t think he expected me to speak anymore.

“So, you are curious. I was beginning to wonder,” he says smiling. “Yes, he killed her. It’s amazing the clarity and honesty that you get right before you’re going to die. I’m feeling that right now. Are you?”

I’m back to staring at him. Nothing I say is going to matter much now anyway. It’s clear to me that I’m going to die in this house.

“Back to being silent. That’s fine. I don’t have much more to say myself. What is your name now? Millie? I’m not sure what kind of name that is. Nejra named you Yasmine. That was my mother’s name. Much prettier than your name, but you don’t deserve that name now. You seem to be much more your father’s daughter than your mother’s. Nejra always told me that she wanted to marry a tender man. I never really knew what that meant. Was your father tender?”

The most tender man ever to walk the earth, but you don’t deserve to know that. You don’t deserve to even speak about him. As I sit staring at him, I hear what sounds like firecrackers going off outside. I turn to look out the window. As I’m doing that, the armed men rush in the room.

“Are they here then?” Sayid asks without turning around to look at them.

They respond to him in a language I don’t understand, maybe Urdu. Sayid hasn’t taken his eyes off me. He responds back to them in whatever language they’re speaking. They hesitantly turn around and leave the room, closing the door.

“It looks like our time together has almost come to an end,” he says, reaching over and taking the gun off the table. “How did you signal to your friends that we are here? Well, you’re a clever girl just like your mother was.”

I hear a loud explosion, and now the sound of gunfire is coming from inside the house. It sounds like an entire army is now storming in downstairs. My mind suddenly goes to Mason. I wonder if it’s him, if it’s his team. I wonder if I’m going to be alive by the time they get here. I don’t think I will. I imagine him seeing my dead body as he enters the room, and despite every effort to prevent it, I feel my eyes starting to water. Before I can consider it anymore, I hear voices speaking English in the hallway. It sounds like they’re clearing the rooms down the hall, and getting closer to this room.

“He has a gun! Don’t come in!” I scream hoping whoever is outside will hear me. “He has a gun!”

Sayid clicks off the safety on the gun just as I hear the door being kicked open behind me. I glance at the door and then back at Sayid, just in time to see him put the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. A volley of rifle fire riddles his body at the same time. His body slumps on the chair, blood spilling out from everywhere.

“Millie?” I hear behind me. It’s not Mason’s voice.

I turn around to see an entire team of operators with guns trained around the room and Chase, in full battle gear, walking up behind them.

“Chase?”

“Yeah, sweetie, it’s me. You’re okay. We just need to get you out of here. Okay?”

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