The Chosen One

Wells hurried to catch up. As he moved along the disintegrating wall she remained a few feet behind, unsure of what his reaction would be to a woman attempting to walk next to him.

Even more, she didn’t know how the mujahideen would respond to any presumptuous actions she might take. At first, lost in pleasing memories of long past years, the Chosen One didn’t notice her attempt to lag. Yet it wasn’t long before the demure little man figured it out.

“Miss Wells, please. Why don’t you come up next to me? It’ll make it so much easier to talk.”

“I didn’t know if it was permitted, Mr. Mourad. And with these guys carrying rather nasty swords, I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. I’ve had a blade on my neck once this week. I wouldn’t want that to happen again. Are you certain it’s okay for me to walk with you? What are your followers going to think about a woman appearing to act as your equal?”

“The nice thing is in my position it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. I do what I want, when I want. No man can judge. Only Allah can do so. If I wish a woman to walk at my side and speak with me, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“But won’t it make many of them angry?”

“They’re already quite upset about your being here. So our walking together won’t change that. To be frank, they’ve pleaded with me often to remove your head, so what difference will this evening make?”

She stopped and looked at him, her worry evident. “It’s clear from how they stare, some of them resent my presence. There’s hatred in many pairs of eyes passing through the antechamber in the past few days. But I’d no idea they wanted you to take my life.”

“So many lives have been lost. In many ways what’s one more? But for some reason yours does matter to me. And you’ve nothing to fear as long as you’re under my protection.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Mourad?”

“Like I said, I do what I want, when I want.”

“And for some reason you want me to live?”

“Yes, I wish that to happen. I didn’t know why until just a few minutes ago. And it’s become even clearer as we’ve walked together. It’s obvious what I saw in you that fascinated me so. I should have realized it well before this moment.”

“What’s obvious? What should you have realized?”

“That in many ways you remind me of my wife.”

“Your wife?”

“Yes, my wife. You’re extremely different from her, but you’re also remarkably similar. Sharif was so exceptionally smart, and so stubbornly determined. Just as you are. She was a woman who spoke her mind.”

“And as the Mahdi that didn’t bother you?”

“At first it bothered me a great deal. I was thoroughly confused by her approach, but after a while I began to see the benefits of loving a woman who’d tell me the things I needed to hear. And Sharif would definitely do that. She knew her place, but she also understood it was her counsel I cherished above all others. She was a remarkable woman and I was so fortunate to have her in my life.” He paused. Lauren could see the pain in his eyes as his memories took him back to the woman he’d loved.

“You must miss her very much.”

“More than you’ll ever know. But please don’t concern yourself. It won’t be too much longer before we spend forever in each other’s arms. The years will pass, and my life’s burden will be complete. When it does, Sharif will be with me once again.”

Wells smiled, her expression genuine. She didn’t know what to say, so she walked along in silence.

“I sense there’s more about you reminding me of her,” he said. “But I’m not certain what it is. Like Sharif you’re quite beautiful, but no one would ever mistake you for her. Her hair was long and shimmering black. Yours is short and an attractive shade of reddish brown. Both of you have brown eyes, but hers were much darker. Your smiles are similar, but hers was a smile of love for me . . .”

He stopped his reminiscing, his face turning a bright shade of red. He’d let his guard down, and for the life of him couldn’t understand why. His embarrassment was unmistakable. He couldn’t imagine how the conversation had gone so far down this path.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Wells, I don’t know what got into me. I’d no right to say such things in your presence. It was highly inappropriate. Other than when I was with Sharif, I’ve never spoken in such a manner to a woman.”

“It’s perfectly all right, Mr. Mourad. To tell you the truth I rather enjoyed hearing what you had to say.” She smiled again, trying to reassure him.

He looked toward the horizon, doing his best to hide his discomfort. “It’s a pleasant evening, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“I wish all could be so.”

“I’ve seen you leaving every day about now. Is this what you do each time?”

“It is. At sunset, since I was a boy, I’ve gone outside to honor my mother’s memory. I do so again tonight. I’ll do so again tomorrow night, and for every night remaining within my years.”

The daunting day had nearly disappeared, with only the faintest orange wisp upon its edges.

He grew quiet as he recalled those long-ago moments. Serenity overcame him, the tranquillity of the distant evenings returning as if they were yesterday. He’d performed his duty to his mother.

He turned to look at Lauren Wells. “Well, I guess we need to be heading back. Evening prayers will soon be upon us.”

65

6:46 A.M., NOVEMBER 5

3RD PLATOON, BRAVO COMPANY, 2ND RECONNAISSANCE BATTALION, 2ND MARINE DIVISION

ON THE GREAT BATTLEFIELD

NORTHERN EGYPT

Beneath the burning North African sun a week was far too long to leave the thousands of corpses unburied. Hour after hideous hour, long night and unyielding day, the Marines stoically moved about the disagreeable ground collecting the enemy dead and depositing them in enormous communal craters. In response to their grievous task, the taxed Americans had long ago shut down their minds. It was the only defense they had from the horror and revulsion closing in from every side. They were in a loathsome nightmare from which they couldn’t awaken. They felt like unearthly creatures as they stumbled through this surreal world. It was as if they could no longer separate themselves from the dead. The wretched smell of decaying flesh clung to their skin, overwhelming their agonized senses. Sam Erickson was convinced no matter what he did the vile sensation would never leave his battered psyche. The malodorous smells and gruesome images would walk with him for the remainder of his years.

With James Fife’s assistance, he tossed the fractured pieces of a mangled Pan-Arab into a deep hole where hundreds of others waited. That was the last of them, a final body, a final pit. With the coming of the stark morning’s first offensive glare, their unutterable task was over. The vexed platoon leader signaled and the bulldozers started pushing dirt onto the immense gravesite. The spiritless Marines looked around. For days, they’d done nothing but fill one fissure after another with once-living forms. Their onerous undertaking was at an end.

The helicopters were waiting to take off. Their engines were running, their blades spinning. The numb survivors shuffled across the sands. They were soon heading toward the beach. Not a word passed among them as they rushed toward the Mediterranean shore. In twenty minutes they’d return to the place where it had all begun. Erickson was too exhausted to think about where they’d been and where they were going. The only thing keeping him sane was the thought of holding Lauren. Within the hour, he’d do so once again. After a lengthy shower in an ineffectual attempt to wash away the corruption, he’d find the woman he loved.

The formation churned north. The fateful shore came into view.

* * *

—

Sam lifted the flap on Lauren’s tent. He was anxious to see the surprise on her face. Yet it was the spent lieutenant wh

o was surprised. She wasn’t there. He searched for her among the row of tents. Still, she was nowhere to be found. He was confused by her absence, yet saw no reason to be concerned. He glanced at his watch. It was the first he’d done so in forever. For a horrid eternity, time had had no meaning. For hideous days without end, there’d been only a sickening present. No past. No future.

It was nearing eight. A smile appeared on his rugged features. The explanation for her absence was apparent. He knew she was a creature of habit. At this moment, she was probably in the mess tent having breakfast. He turned to join her. After enjoying a hot meal, something he hadn’t experienced in uncounted days, he’d return with her to her tent.

Erickson hadn’t gone more than a few steps when he spotted his company commander approaching. He could tell from Richards’s face something was amiss.