The Sheik's Captive Bride (The Jawhara Sheikhs 3)

Brock Sweeney, ex-Navy Seal, offered, “Why not send the drones up? We could put them on heat seeking mode and locate them that way.”

“We could also alert her kidnapper that we’re looking for him which would push him underground even sooner. The fact that he has dressed her in the cultural clothing of his people indicates that he might be trying to take her as far as possible on the roads. That works in our favor.”

“How so?” PJ asked, not following his line of thinking.

“If we were to jump ahead of him and start travelling back towards Jawhara, we might be able to intercept him before he makes contact with the others he’s working with.”

“Don’t you think it would be pretty obvious if he were to run into a group of Americans out in the middle of the desert? I mean, we don’t exactly blend in around here.” Brett was looking around at the group of five men and one woman who had travelled around the world to assist Sheikh Kamal. Brock Sweeney was a red head with a face full of freckles; Tim Morris had the dark skin common to his African-American heritage; Carlos Sanchez was Hispanic in both his good loo

ks and his speech; Brett and his twin brother Travis were both blue-eyed, blonde haired surfer boys from Southern California. That only left PJ, and with her blond hair and sky blue eyes, there was no way she could pass as a local.

Talib looked at each man and then at PJ, agreeing that without some sort of camouflage, there was no way any of them could pass as a local citizen. “I agree. What I am suggesting is this…”

Talib and the American team spent the next half hour working out their plan. The American men would travel to the closest village via an alternate route using the helicopter available to them back at the palace. They would set up satellite feeds, a com station, and monitor the situation from there.

Talib would take PJ with him, and they would take a shortcut through the desert, cutting in front of the kidnapper and his most likely path into Sumari. They would then appear to be nomads travelling back to Jawhara via camel. Talib knew of a small group of Jawharan nomads, which were currently only a few miles from their intended location.

PJ listened as the plans were outlined. She would be travelling with Talib, in full cultural dress, which would include a face veil, but not the oppressive black one favored by the Islamic extremists. She wasn’t thrilled to know that she would have to figure out how to stay on the back of a camel, but it seemed to be their best Brock of finding and retrieving Miss Malone.

And what woman in her right mind would mind spending some alone time with the handsome head of palace security? Definitely not her!

*****

Erin battled the nausea as long as she could, finally becoming desperate for fresh air and a stop to the rocking motion of the donkey. “Stop! Please, I need to stop for a moment!” she called out, not caring if she angered Amir or not.

Amir stopped walking, halting the forward movement of the donkey before walking back to address her. He frowned at his captive as she struggled to remove the heavy veil, her breathing harsh and uneven in her struggles.

Erin threw the veil off and struggled to calm her breathing, closing her eyes to block out the frowning visage of Amir.

“What is wrong with you?” Amir growled.

“I need a break. The baby has made me very sick for the last few weeks and the motion of the donkey is making it worse. How much farther do we have to travel today?” Erin opened her eyes, looking up to see the sun already beginning to descend towards the western horizon. By her estimation, they had been travelling for more than three hours now, and she was hot, thirsty, and very tired.

Amir watched the American woman, trying to work up some sympathy for her, but then stopped himself. She was just like all of the other westerners – weak, and pathetic. He looked at Erin with disdain, speaking to her in the foreign language in what Erin could only assume were hateful words. It was obvious to her that Amir thought she was a weakling.

Sumari women would never complain about the heat, or bemoan feeling ill because they were with child. Bearing their husband children was their greatest accomplishment and any discomfort was to be born in silence so as not to belittle the blessing that had been bestowed upon them.

“We will travel for several more hours. If you would like, you may walk, but I will expect you to keep up.”

Erin slowly nodded her head, “Please, for just a little while, that would be much appreciated.” Erin pulled her leg across the back of the donkey and then lowered herself to the ground. Her legs were wobbly and she fell to the ground while the young extremist looked on. Kamal would never treat his enemy with such disregard. This young man had absolutely no respect for others! I already feel sorry for the young woman who will one day become his wife!

Erin used her hands to push herself to a standing position as Amir threw a small water skin to the ground in front of her and walked a short ways off to relieve himself. The fact that he didn’t even disguise his actions disgusted her and she turned her back on him and slowly sipped the warm water. If his actions were representative of how all Islamic young men acted, it was no wonder rebels had risen up and overthrown the Sumari government. He was no better than a barbarian!

The liquid refreshed her and when Amir returned several minutes later, she was ready to keep up with him. She took one last glance towards the path they had been travelling, wishing for some sign that help was on its way.

“Put the veil back on,” Amir growled at her.

Erin looked at him, intending to argue, but seeing his hand upon the hilt of his knife, she decided to bide her time lest he force her back upon the donkey’s back. She could already tell she was dehydrated; if she started throwing up, she could endanger the child and herself more. The merciless heat of the desert was slowly sapping her energy and what little fluid she had consumed. Swallowing back both the nausea and her retort, she retrieved the hateful veil, shaking the sand from it before pulling it back over her head.

Sighing, she glared at Amir behind the veil, wishing all sorts of evil things might happen to him. Oh, but not until Kamal or someone else rescued her. Alone in the desert she would surely die! Please let someone be on their way to find me!

Resolved to survive until that time, she gave one more glance behind her. Seeing nothing but sand and more sand, she turned, determined to prove to Amir that his opinion of westerner’s was wrong. That his opinion of her was wrong!

As she began the arduous task of walking in the late afternoon heat, she let her thoughts drift to Kamal and the future that awaited her once she was rescued. She had fought Kamal’s dominating attitude, but more than anything, she wished he were standing by her side directing her every move right now. Never again would she argue with his decisions about her welfare! She had badgered him into letting her visit the refugee camp one last time, and this was how that had turned out! No! Next time she would heed his advice without argument! Or bring a weapon of her own!

Chapter 6

Talib and PJ left the palace and headed for the Sumari border and the nomadic tribe Talib was hoping could provide them with a camel. The small group had arrived back at the palace and split up to gather the supplies that would be needed to carry out their plan.