Beyond The Limit (6 page)

“Ahmed seems pretty intense. And I saw him glare in your direction a number of times,” Pete admitted. “I wondered why he was angry at you.”

“Because I'm a woman in a man's world, and around here, women don't do business with men. But Hesam knows I'm number two person on this project, and he's smart enough to let this law go and deal directly with me.”

“Did you have similar problems in Saudi Arabia?”

“Yes, I did. Some tribal chiefs were more open-minded about this than others. In the end, they all realized I held the purse strings, and if they wanted money to help their villagers, it was through me. So they relaxed the rules and we all got along just fine.”

“Money is a language that talks to everyone and doesn't need translation,” Pete murmured.

“You got that right. But tribal sheiks also have an obligation to their people, and they want to see them prosper. A happy village automatically increases loyalty to the sheik and his clan affiliations. Most chiefs are very political and have been trained to lead since they were children. They know they're responsible for the happiness of their people.”

“So why do you think Ahmed translated so badly? I wasn't happy when he inferred I was a pig, either.”

Shrugging, Cali said, “I don't know. And I'd bet money Hesam understood Ahmed's English to you about pigs. Hesam looked shocked at first, then angry and then I saw him cover up his reactions. You don't call anyone a pig or infer you might be one. Ahmed was way out of line insulting you like that. Elliot swears by him. Maybe Ahmed was just pissed off that you allowed a woman in there to talk business with Hesam and you.” She didn't want to share her darker thoughts, since she knew she could be wrong.

“Well, that isn't going to wash.” Pete studied her across the room. The morning sunlight slipped between the venetian blinds, highlighting Cali's red hair. “Since you know Pashto, can I borrow your services tomorrow on our camel jaunt? I'll leave Ahmed here, at the site. I can't afford another screwup with Hesam.”

“No, you can't. Our whole project begins and ends with this sheik. I'll be happy to translate for you. But you eventually have to get another translator. I can't do this for you full-time because I'll have my hands full with my crews. I can't spare any time to help you, too.”

“Understood,” Pete said. “I'll talk to Hesam about this. Maybe he has a man in his village who knows English.”

“Not many know English out here, Major. But maybe you'll get lucky. Or maybe Ahmed was just having a bad day.”

“We'll see….” Pete said, and quirked his mouth. “For whatever reasons, Ahmed isn't going to work out. I wish I knew what his motivation was in behaving the way he did.”

At that moment, Pete Trayhern looked vulnerable, and Cali found her heart opening toward him. “Don't worry, I have a box of delicious dates from Qatar you can give Hesam for tomorrow's meeting. Every time we are invited to his home, we must bring a gift. It's expected and keeps good relations. I think he's wise enough to realize Ahmed wasn't doing you any favors today. Maybe he'll forgive this one oversight.”

“Here's hoping. And I forgot to tell the sheik that my official gift will be coming soon. I was nervous and forgot, but I'll mention it to him tomorrow.”

Cali managed a small, optimistic smile. “Roland does background checking on all the major players, so how about if I lend you our file on Hesam today? You study it, and by tomorrow, you'll have a better understanding of him and where he stands.”

“I'd appreciate it. You know, you're turning out to be indispensable, Ms. Roland.”

“Roland Construction likes to make the owner comfortable, and part of the team,” she answered blithely. Then she felt her heart flutter when Pete sent her a dark, intense glance. It was the look a man sent his woman, not one a businessman sent his prime contractor. Swallowing hard, Cali stood. “I gotta run. I'm going to be up half the night making sure that fence is started, using local Afghan workers.”

“Okay.” Cali's next responsibility was the fence, and Pete knew it. “I'll pop out every now and again to see how it's coming.” That was the owner's job: to make sure things got done.

Brushing past him, Cali said, “I'd expect that.” She lifted her hand. “See you later?”

Cali hated to admit it, but Pete was easy on the eyes. It was so delicious, being able to absorb his handsome, craggy features without him knowing the pleasure it gave her. And that's what it had to remain: her secret.

“You will. Send over that file on the sheik?”

“I'll get Hakim to bring it over, plus the box of dates.”

After Cali left, Pete went to his office. He had a ton of paperwork to go through, plus his iridium satellite phone was blinking, meaning he had calls to answer. Yet as his mind went into work mode, he couldn't erase the excitement he felt over going camel riding with Cali tomorrow afternoon. He enjoyed her company a lot more than he should.

Remembering his past, he tried to push his hope aside. Pain and loss were not things he wanted to duplicate.

“I'
M GLAD YOU DIDN'T
allow Ahmed to come along,” Cali confided to Pete the next morning as they drove to Sheik Hesam's village.

“He wasn't happy about staying behind.” As he drove, Pete glanced briefly at her. When he woke that morning, he'd looked forward to seeing her. He tried not to like Cali, especially since he often fell for women who betrayed him.

“I'll bet his pride is hurt,” she said.

“I told him I knew just enough Pashto to get by today. I have a call in to Kerwin Elliot about his credentials.” Pete slowed to maneuver the Land Cruiser through some deep ruts in the dirt road. Sparse vegetation dotted the landscape, and in the distance, he saw a boy with a large herd of sheep foraging for grass or weeds. The youth smiled and waved. Pete waved back. The Afghans were a friendly people, he'd found out during his military tour. Most were hardworking, responsible and had a deep love of the land.

“I think you were right to call Elliot to see what's going on.” Cali felt this was a safe statement, even though she wanted to say far more. She couldn't tell him what to do about his less-than-glorious translator. Politics always played a role in what was going on. Ahmed might be from an influential family that had ties to Kerwin Elliot.

“I'll let you know the outcome.” Pete saw the worry in her green eyes, The fine lines in her forehead, partially hidden by those strands of red hair were evident. Even under duress, Cali was gorgeous. She had dressed casually in jeans, a blouse and work boots, but her small pearl earrings told the world she was a woman.

“Yes, well,” Cali said, “Ahmed was complaining after he left your office.”

“And you know this how?”

“Sometimes it pays to be fluent in five languages.” She shrugged. “I heard him talking to Hakim as I walked over to see my driver about some other business.”

“I see….” Pete gave her a teasing look. “I have trouble stumbling along in English.”

“That's not true, Major. I heard you try a bit of Pashto with Hesam. I believe the sheik truly appreciated your efforts.”

“What little Pashto I know is from my time spent in the south with my company of Marines. I'll be talking with Hesam on a weekly basis from here on out, and it's imperative that we communicate clearly.”

“That will be key,” Cali agreed. “It's very important not to underestimate Hesam's power. He's a wily fox. He's had to be, since he's one of the most important political power brokers in northern Afghanistan. As you know, his family has ruled this region for five hundred years. Ruled well. The people love his family, so you don't want to be his enemy. The sheik knows a helluva lot more English than he lets on, I think. My educated guess is that he noticed Ahmed's gaffes and isn't faulting you for them.”

“That's good,” Pete said with relief. He saw the village coming up. It was a busy place, bustling with women in dark robes, scarves on their heads, and men wearing colorful clothing, hats or turbans. Barking dogs chased the Land Cruiser. There were no children about except for babies on their mothers' hips. Hesam was adamant about all children of his clan being educated, and Pete applauded that principle.

“So today I'll be your interpreter,” Cali said brightly. “We have to patch up the disaster Ahmed created for us.”

“I'm glad you've volunteered,” Pete said, and enjoyed seeing her cheeks grow red.

“I'll try to fix what was broken yesterday.”

“Knowing what I know about Afghan politics, my sense is Elliot probably owed Ahmed's family a favor, and he got this translator job by default.”

Relief swept through Cali. Trayhern was sharp, she'd give him that. Of course, one look into those alert eyes and Cali knew he was a man with a steel-trap mind. The only mysteries left for her were his morals and values. Cali had run into her fair share of men who did backroom deals, manipulated, threatened and cheated to get what they wanted. Russ Turner had been one of them. He'd lied to her, saying he was single when all along he was married. Cali felt a wave of shame over how she'd been fooled.

Generally, she was an excellent judge of character, but her stupid, lonely heart had fallen into the trap Russ had set for her. A woman in a man's world of concrete and metal would always be lonely. That realization had such an awful finality.

Drawing a shaky breath, Cali shoved her own personal agony aside. Was Major Trayhern like Russ? She hoped not, but it was too early to tell. So far, he seemed to have the moral fiber and values she yearned for. She felt the major's scrutiny. Lifting her head, she cut a glance in his direction.

“The important thing for today's outing is to establish a good relationship with Hesam,” Pete stated. He'd felt Cali retreat deep within herself, and was unsure what that meant. “I believe we can do that.”

Cali glowed inwardly. Pete had said “we.” That showed his desire for teamwork. Then again, Russ had used “we,” too.

Tamping down the glimmer of hope, Cali replied, “That's why you're bringing him those dates from Qatar. Hesam will love them. I think, with that gift, he will realize you're trying to make amends. He doesn't strike me as a man who will throw you out unless you really cross him.”

“Good to know.” Pete parked the Land Cruiser next to a two-story dwelling made of adobe bricks. Hesam's home looked like all the rest with its square, curtained windows, but the large door with mountains carved in the wood made the home more regal. A number of rundown pickup trucks were parked along the rutted street in front of the houses. A horse-drawn cart moved by, carrying a pile of loose hay. The driver waved to them, and Pete lifted his hand in response. Maybe it spoke highly of Hesam that he lived most of the time among his people, and not in the glittering city Dara-i-Suf, which was in his clan's territory.

“Who knew a box of dates could do so much to mend fences?” Pete shook his head.

Cali squelched a smile and climbed out of the Land Cruiser. The afternoon was heating up after the cool desert night. All the children were in school now, and a few women walked through the village. Some carried bread in a basket, others vegetables. There was a small open market at the other end of the community. A few dogs lazed about and occasionally the bleat of a goat or the baa of a sheep broke the silence. The scents of curry, rosemary and onions were strong on the breeze, and Cali inhaled deeply. Growing up, she had lived all over the globe, wherever her father had a project to build. She'd been raised on the foods of Asia and the Far East, and loved curry, in particular.

Taking a steadying breath, Cali focused on the meeting ahead and walked at Major Trayhern's side to Hesam's home. Her nerves were taut. Would Hesam forgive the Marine?

 

“A
H
,
DATES
…
AND FROM
Qatar,” Hesam said, sitting among several huge pillows in the audience room. “Indeed, this is a gift worthy of a king.” He smiled and nodded deferentially to the Marine, who sat to his right. “Thank you, my friend.” As he set the box aside, his smiling wife, Ladan, entered with a tray of hot tea and sweetmeats for all of them. When she had left, Hesam turned to Cali. “I see you are his interpreter for the day?”

Cali nodded and sipped her tea. “I am, my lord. With your permission.”

“But of course.” Hesam turned to Pete. “And where is the beady-eyed Ahmed today? Sick?”

Squelching a laugh, Cali set her tea in front of her and translated the statement and question to Pete. She saw the major gulp, catch himself and then try to maintain a serious demeanor.

“No, my lord. He had other business I wanted him to attend to this morning.” Pete didn't want to drag Ahmed into this meeting. It was his problem to solve and not one he wanted to share with the sheik. “Ms. Roland volunteered to take his place for today.”

Hesam nodded sagely and sipped his tea, his gaze sliding to the American woman. “Ahh, I see.” He studied Cali. “You speak almost as a native, my dear friend.”

Cali knew that when a sheik called one “friend” it was a good sign. “Thank you, my lord. That is a high compliment.”

“Tell me, would Pete be offended if I offered my sixteen-year-old nephew, Javad, as his translator?” Hesam asked her. “Javad is a bright young lad who took English courses in Kabul since he was a boy. He knows your language well. My nephew's parents were killed by the Taliban.” Hesam frowned and sipped his tea. “My sister and her husband were murdered by them. He was their only son….”

Cali saw the banked rage in Hesam's eyes. There was no question in her mind that he hated the Taliban. “I'm sorry for your loss, my lord.”

With a wave of his hand, the sheik said, “Thank you. You must know that Javad has lost a leg. He stepped on a land mine outside Kabul shortly after the death of his parents. It ended his schooling. He was sent back here to me for his recovery, but he is bored because he's such a bright lad. I feel Javad could reclaim his confidence by working beside the major. My nephew is smart, willing to work hard and will not lie.”

Cali nodded and passed on the information. Even though the major had not told the sheik the truth about Ahmed, the warload had adroitly summed up the problem. She instantly saw Pete's expression grow sad as she explained Javad's situation and condition. Clearly, the major wore his emotions on his face, and that once again surprised her.

Cali saw Hesam watching Pete out of the corner of his eyes as he sampled a date from Qatar.

“Let me clear your suggestion with Mr. Elliot,” Pete told the sheik. “My boss must approve it.” In fact, Pete could see a lot of advantages to having a family member of Hesam's on the site in that capacity. But first they had to decide what to do about Ahmed.

“Excellent,” Hesam said, finishing his tea. He dipped his hands in warm, lemon-scented water in a beaten silver bowl. Taking a white linen towel to dry them, he said in English, “Major Trayhern, I know a great deal of your language, as you can tell.”

Stunned, Pete raised his brows. The sheik spoke flawless English. Pete saw Cali press her hand across her mouth. Was she hiding a smile? She had suspected the man had an excellent command of their language, and she'd been right. “Yes, sir, you do.” Pete realized to his horror that the warlord had heard Ahmed suggest he was a pig.

“Frankly, this was a test.” Hesam gave him a studied look. “I wanted to see if you were honorable or not, Major. Clearly, Ahmed is not the translator you want. I would advise you to look more deeply into this brigand's background. He may not be who you think he is.”

“Yes, sir, I will….” The sheik grasped the problem and Pete was relieved to realize Hesam wasn't holding him responsible for Ahmed's poor performance.

“My nephew, Javad, is of the highest moral fiber. You can trust him, Major. He will not lie, cheat or steal. The men I will give you to work on your project respect my nephew. He is young, but he has a good heart.” Hesam touched his barrel chest with a bejeweled hand. “And equally important, he will translate your words faithfully, treat you with the utmost respect and keep you apprised of all important protocols between us.” He smiled slightly. “And of course, I will decree that the men in my villages nearest to your project come for employment.”

“I'm glad to hear that, my lord,” Pete said. More relief funneled through him and a huge, invisible rock seemed to slide off his shoulders. Without Hesam's men, the construction could not move forward.

The sheik was looking at him, bearded chin slightly tilted, his eyes gleaming. “I'm grateful for your help,” Pete said.

“I see your arrival, Major, as a blessing from Allah,” Hesam said, raising his hands toward the ceiling, his voice husky with emotion. “For too long, the Taliban have tried to wreck our country. They subjugated our women, who are as strong as our men. They stopped them from being educated. I fought for their rights then as I do now. This power plant is a dream coming true for all our people of the northern provinces.” His thick, black brows drew downward. “That is not to say the Taliban don't bite at our heels. They do. You are putting the power plant near the slopes of the Kush Mountains, where they can ride down from the hills and attack you. Do you realize that?”

“I was warned about that by my boss, my lord. I was hoping to get your experience and counsel on what to do about the Taliban. I know they are less active up here because your men chase them out of the villages.”

Hesam popped another date into his mouth and chewed. “The Taliban want to see us fail here. In the last decade, I have worked to get rid of all fanatics who hide their allegiance from me. At night, they ride away to the mountains, meet others and then come down to attack the Americans.” He shrugged. “I have been relentless in my pursuit of ridding such individuals, but there are still Taliban members around. In the Kush Mountains above this plain there are villages that still fester with the enemies of our people. They use the caves to meet and hide in. My territory extends only so far. Another sheik has tribal power over the mountain people, not I. But I have been able to broker an agreement with him to chase Taliban out of my province. He, too, dislikes the Taliban and does all he can to get rid of them.” Shrugging, Hesam added, “The Taliban are like cockroaches. You can kill individuals, but they continue to multiply, and you are never quite rid of them as you would like.”