The Sheik Who Loved Me(82)

David’s teeth clenched. He angled the curved blade of his jambiya slowly up in front of him, poised should his brother take one more step in his direction. “Let my daughter go, Tariq.” He waved his jambiya menacingly in front of him, feeling the familiarity of the hilt against his palm. “I’m warning you.”

Out of the corner of his eye David could see Jayde move ever so slightly. She was alive. His heart kicked his ribs. Then he saw her hand move slowly up to her head. She lifted the night-vision scope still attached to her eye. She was more than alive. She was preparing to make a move. She caught David’s eye, signaled to him to draw Tariq away from Kamilah.

New fire seared through David’s blood. He edged slowly to the corner of the stone cell, away from his child, away from Jayde.

Tariq followed David’s movement with his flashlight, his finger curling around the trigger of his weapon.

Jayde’s hand inched across the crumbling stone floor, groping for a loose chunk of stone. David saw her fingers close around one. She hefted herself up on one elbow and flung the rock at Tariq’s head.

Her aim was dead-on. The rock cracked against his skull. A grunt escaped Tariq. He spun around, aimed at Jayde, and David hit him abruptly from behind. Tariq’s shot went wild as he stumbled forward under the impact, the rifle and the flashlight skittering across the floor.

He spun instantly back to face David, his hands empty. Thick black blood was oozing down the side of his face from the gash in his head. He drew out the dagger at his waist, swinging it threateningly.

The light in the cell was dim, the flashlight lying on the stone floor pointing a halo at the far wall.

Out of the corner of his eye, David saw Jayde crawling over to the pile of blankets, to Kamilah. He had to hold Tariq’s attention, give them a chance to escape.

Tariq’s eyes were wild with anger. He inched closer to David, crouched, his knife swaying.

David raised the point of his dagger. “Don’t move, Tariq. Don’t force me to do this. Just let us go. We can put all this behind us.”

“Never,” Tariq snarled, inching even closer. “Even if you get past me, you’ll never make it over the border. I have already alerted Libyan troops. There is a column moving in from the east as we speak.”

David’s heart clenched.

Tariq came closer. Then in the blink of an eye, he lunged at David.

David jerked back, just missing the thrust of the blade. His heart pounded like a drum. He could see Jayde gathering Kamilah into her arms and hunkering down over her as she shuffled out of the cell.

Tariq lunged again, taking advantage of David’s distraction. David moved quickly, once again narrowly missing the swing of the blade.

Then Tariq came at him again. David jumped. But not fast enough. This time Tariq’s blade sliced his forearm. David felt the searing burn, the warmth of his own blood. But he could not bring himself to lunge forward, to plunge his jambiya, his father’s jambiya, into his brother’s body.

Tariq now had him backed up into the corner. He came at David with a final thrust. David swung to the side. Tariq stumbled forward with his own momentum. Before he regained his balance he lurched sideways after David. David tripped backward over the loose stone floor, and Tariq came down hard on top of him, right on top his David’s dagger, impaling himself on the blade. A soft grunt escaped his body as the blade sank deep into his chest.

David’s heart stopped. Tariq’s eyes were huge with silent shock. David could feel the wet, hot blood of his brother seeping thick over his hands. He rolled quickly over to his side, pushing his brother onto his back. The jambiya was buried in his chest to the hilt. His brother gaped up at him. Blood started to dribble from the corner of his mouth.

David got to his knees. “Tariq!”

His brother groaned.

“By God, Tariq, what have you done?”

A sound bubbled up from Tariq’s throat with the blood and spittle. He choked as he tried to speak. “I…I die for my people. I…go in peace. You…you will not escape…” He coughed, choked. And his head lolled to the side, his eyes wide and suddenly empty.

David stared at his father’s jambiya. The symbol of his unfulfilled promise. And tears spilled hot and furious down his cheeks. His whole body began to shake. “Why, Tariq? Why?” The pain in his own heart grew unbearable. He bent his head low over his brother, kissed his face and said a silent prayer for the salvation of his brother’s soul. And for his own soul. He closed his brother’s eyes.

Then he remembered the Libyan army. He could not afford to waste time. David left the jambiya stuck in his brother’s heart. He would not be able to bear ever touching it again. He covered Tariq with a blanket from the corner in which he’d found Kamilah. And then he fled down the passageway after his woman and his child.