She was right. There was hope.
There was also only one way to find out what Issam was thinking.
One final meeting.
19
Mackenzie’s gut churned. If even one of the men escorting her locked his hand around her elbow, she thought she might scream. But she didn’t let any of it show on her face. She had put on her best lawyer expression, lips pressed together, head held high. It was only on the inside that her nervousness ran wild. It didn’t help that it felt so much like being escorted down to that holding cell on her first day in Al-Dashalid.
This time, the handsome Sheikh Issam might not bail her out. He might be waiting to take her back to that very place after the meeting with the leader of Al-Madiza. Which was not guaranteed to go well. It was, after all, with her brother-in-law.
Don’t think about it, she commanded herself.
The two guards on either side of her walked quickly through the palace, leading her down familiar hallways to Issam’s rooms. But instead of turning into the private area, they turned into a meeting room she hadn’t seen before.
Issam sat at the opposite end of a long meeting table, talking to one of his men. Bahir, she thought his name was. Two other men were passing cables back and forth to set up the link between the two countries. It was like Skype, but a secure version, and for whatever reason this setup took more wiring.
The bodyguards fell back, and Mackenzie was left to walk by herself to the other end of the room.
Issam turned toward her, and her heart, already pounding, leaped up into her throat. Those dark eyes—they burned, even now.
Don’t let it show.
She gave him a crisp nod and sat down across from him. “Sheikh Issam.”
“Mackenzie,” he said, and his voice was rough, as if he had been trying to hold in his feelings for too long. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but then the men were done with the cables and the call was connecting. There was no time.
President Mulazim, her brother-in-law, appeared on the screen, and Mackenzie was on deck.
The two men exchang
ed greetings she hardly heard, and then, with a nod from Bahir, she was in the spotlight.
“I’ve been working closely with the NGO that’s been servicing the women’s shelter at the fort, and based on the legal systems of Al-Dashalid and Al-Madiza, we’ve reached the conclusion that there is only one viable solution.” She sketched out the laws in both countries, watching the men’s expression. Issam watched her with—was it pride in his eyes? And Mulazim looked furious. “So, in keeping with those legal precedents, the fort itself—including the women’s shelter—is owned by the NGO.”
“What does that mean for us?” Mulazim burst out. “Mackenzie, if this is another one of your schemes—”
“It’s not a scheme,” she said coolly. “It’s the law. Now.” She turned her attention back to Issam, as if he were the only person who truly mattered. “The rest of the land is still as yet unoccupied. My proposal is that Al-Madiza and Al-Dashalid split it equally. You can send whichever forces you’d like to patrol your portions. Neither one of you will have an advantage over the other.”
“Unacceptable,” blustered Mulazim. “I’m supposed to give up the fort to Sheikh Issam’s administration? I’m not prepared to—”
“It’s the only way,” interrupted Issam. “The women and children in the shelter cannot be moved without significant risk.”
Mackenzie’s heart swelled as Issam kept speaking. He had heard her, after all. All those times she had thought she was being dismissed, he’d been listening. And now he was using her information in the very negotiation she’d wanted to be part of so badly.
“It’s the only way forward, Mulazim,” Issam said finally. “Mackenzie has done us all a favor. Neither of our countries will lose face, and we can finally focus our attentions where they should be—on Caldad.”
“A favor,” Mulazim said, his irritation plain on his face. “I’m losing half the land—”
“No, you’re not,” said Issam. “Even if the NGO didn’t step in and take ownership of the fort, Al-Dashalid would still have a stronger claim to the area because of the maintenance we’ve performed over the years. It would count under the law as fortification. You know it as well as I do.”
Mulazim frowned. “We need military protection from Caldad. So do you.”
“And we’ll both have it. But we also need to protect the women’s shelter. The lives of the women and children there are more important than posturing.”
Even Mulazim couldn’t argue with that. Not to Issam’s face, anyway. He deflated a little. “Fine. I’ll agree to splitting the remaining land. But only if we can work out a schedule for our troops to move in at the same time. I don’t want—”
“I understand,” said Issam. “We must present a united front to Caldad even as we work out the details among ourselves. Are you ready to sign the document we’ve sent over?”