filled the trunk, and Yassi retched, barely holding back the sickness. She braced for the next wave of nausea, pushing her mindâs eye to the turquoise-and-silver beaches of Kish Island last February, the foamy lick of sea around their sun-browned ankles . . .
She bit down hard on her lipâshe couldnât allow these thoughts of her husband,
not now
. Her fingers found her belly and the bundle tied at her waistâfor this, Arash had risked everything.
The Mercedes braked abruptly, and Yassi and Zari rolled hard against bare metal.
âMama!â Zari hissed, fear making her small voice shrill.
âHush.â
Yassi pressed her forefinger lightly to her daughterâs lip, felt the quivering of fear and fatigue.
Voices so close!
Zari squirmed as her mother kept her grip.
One voice belonging to their driverâ
Yassi barely breathed through fear.
Keep still, little one,
she silently prayed.
The other voice snapping out a sharp commandâ
a Sepah, a Guard?
Yassi felt her body lighten to nothing, as if every bit of substance drained away.
A harsh barking noiseâ
Zari jerked in Yassiâs arms.
Laughter! Their driver and the other man bantering!
And now the driver saying something about getting into trouble . . . the wife waiting . . . and his father-in-lawâs car!
Yassi held her breath as if to still the tremors running through her child.
Finally, the car inched forward, settling into the blind seesaw motion. But now the trunk felt safe, and the blood began to flow through Yassi again. She even felt her daughterâs little body ease a bit in her arms.
Only two things matteredâget Arashâs message out of Iran and stay alive.
For the briefest instant, Yassi allowed herself to picture her husbandâs face.
Somehow we will make it without youâI will not let them take anything else from us.
Aboard the C-17 the hard plastic netting pinched Vanessaâs spine, and, even with earplugs, the roar of the engines made her head ache. A familiar experience reaching back to the best of her childhood as an Air Force brat: trips to Europe, Greece, the Middle East; the journey to the new and unknown. But today she shifted restlessly in the nylon jump seat. Real seats were hard to come by, and sheâd given hers to a harried mother who was traveling with three young children and an infant.
Not even two hours ago sheâd watched the asphalt landing strip at Andrews Air Force Base disappear as the hulking Globemaster III military transport lurched airborne. Sheâd been told to hitch a ride, as the CIA Gulfstream was otherwise occupied. The flight to Turkey, a straight shot, would take approximately eleven hours. Once she hit the ground, she needed to be alert and ready to face Arash Farahâs widow.
Sheâd taken Ambien, and still her eyes stayed wide open and her mind refused to shut down. How soon would Yassi and her daughter reach the border?
She had a good idea what they would endureâhours hidden in the trunk of a car until they were well outside Tehran; at least then they could ride
inside
the car, crossing the border if their fake papers held up to scrutiny, and then another day of driving rough roads through remote and barren sections of Turkey.
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
Vanessa blinked in the half-light of dawn. The few windows on the C-17 were portholes, but she could feel the plane begin its descent. She closed her eyes, letting her mind fill in the landscapeâa patchwork of green and brown, myriad villages and towns scattered to the rolling arid hills, and the steep mountains in the distance.
A year ago sheâd visited Turkey secretly with Khoury; the trip through small villages around Cappadocia had been a journey five hundred years back through time. The underground cities and âfairyâ chimneys were magical, and so remote, there was almost no chance the forbidden lovers would
She bit down hard on her lipâshe couldnât allow these thoughts of her husband,
not now
. Her fingers found her belly and the bundle tied at her waistâfor this, Arash had risked everything.
The Mercedes braked abruptly, and Yassi and Zari rolled hard against bare metal.
âMama!â Zari hissed, fear making her small voice shrill.
âHush.â
Yassi pressed her forefinger lightly to her daughterâs lip, felt the quivering of fear and fatigue.
Voices so close!
Zari squirmed as her mother kept her grip.
One voice belonging to their driverâ
Yassi barely breathed through fear.
Keep still, little one,
she silently prayed.
The other voice snapping out a sharp commandâ
a Sepah, a Guard?
Yassi felt her body lighten to nothing, as if every bit of substance drained away.
A harsh barking noiseâ
Zari jerked in Yassiâs arms.
Laughter! Their driver and the other man bantering!
And now the driver saying something about getting into trouble . . . the wife waiting . . . and his father-in-lawâs car!
Yassi held her breath as if to still the tremors running through her child.
Finally, the car inched forward, settling into the blind seesaw motion. But now the trunk felt safe, and the blood began to flow through Yassi again. She even felt her daughterâs little body ease a bit in her arms.
Only two things matteredâget Arashâs message out of Iran and stay alive.
For the briefest instant, Yassi allowed herself to picture her husbandâs face.
Somehow we will make it without youâI will not let them take anything else from us.
Aboard the C-17 the hard plastic netting pinched Vanessaâs spine, and, even with earplugs, the roar of the engines made her head ache. A familiar experience reaching back to the best of her childhood as an Air Force brat: trips to Europe, Greece, the Middle East; the journey to the new and unknown. But today she shifted restlessly in the nylon jump seat. Real seats were hard to come by, and sheâd given hers to a harried mother who was traveling with three young children and an infant.
Not even two hours ago sheâd watched the asphalt landing strip at Andrews Air Force Base disappear as the hulking Globemaster III military transport lurched airborne. Sheâd been told to hitch a ride, as the CIA Gulfstream was otherwise occupied. The flight to Turkey, a straight shot, would take approximately eleven hours. Once she hit the ground, she needed to be alert and ready to face Arash Farahâs widow.
Sheâd taken Ambien, and still her eyes stayed wide open and her mind refused to shut down. How soon would Yassi and her daughter reach the border?
She had a good idea what they would endureâhours hidden in the trunk of a car until they were well outside Tehran; at least then they could ride
inside
the car, crossing the border if their fake papers held up to scrutiny, and then another day of driving rough roads through remote and barren sections of Turkey.
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
Vanessa blinked in the half-light of dawn. The few windows on the C-17 were portholes, but she could feel the plane begin its descent. She closed her eyes, letting her mind fill in the landscapeâa patchwork of green and brown, myriad villages and towns scattered to the rolling arid hills, and the steep mountains in the distance.
A year ago sheâd visited Turkey secretly with Khoury; the trip through small villages around Cappadocia had been a journey five hundred years back through time. The underground cities and âfairyâ chimneys were magical, and so remote, there was almost no chance the forbidden lovers would
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