Pushing Up Daisies (8 page)

When the women finished eating, they tossed the remains of their meal on one pewter plate and handed it to Sarah. Sarah held it without touching the food until all the women had left the tent. The sun had risen. She saw the bright light of day through the tent flap when they left.

She offered Daisy the food. “They were talking about us,” she said around a bite of what she easily recognized as camel meat.”

“What kind of meat is this?” Daisy asked.

“You don't want to know.”

She nodded. “Probably right. So what did they say about us?”

“They saw House and think he's pretty hot…for a white man. They were speculating on the size of his man parts.”

Daisy snorted. “That it?”

“No, they think the tribe elders will contact someone they know who might pay for him. The tribe is very poor. They're running from war in Sudan with the Misseriya, another tribe of nomads. That's why they are here. Their tribal elders are tired of fighting. The Rizeigat seem to think we're in Kenya, by the way, or at least that's what the elders think.”

“The who?”

“The Rizeigat. That's who these people are. But the women aren't sure whether they will ransom us or not. They believe the men will want you and me and keep us. They believe they might ransom House.”

“But not us?”

Sarah nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of rice. “We're just women. We have no value.”

House sat comfortably among the elders of the Rizeigat. He knew who these people were just not why they were in Ethiopia. They thought they were in Kenya, but House knew better. He'd seen the road to Mogadishu. It skirted Bale Mountain Park connecting eastern Ethiopia to Mogadishu on the Somali coast. Most of the road was a dirt track across miles of arid desert, but he'd traveled it before and recognized it. Kenya was close. A piece of the country jutted into Somalia and Ethiopia.

One of the men brought the water pipe out of a corner and loaded it with tobacco. They smoked it from tubes connected to the body of the pipe. They passed around the tubes. When House was offered one, he gratefully took it and sucked in a huge lungful of apple-scented tobacco. One hit off a water pipe was like smoking a pack of cigarettes. House enjoyed the occasional cigar. He sat back and let the tobacco work its magic.

The men were relaxed, laughing and talking about the day. They'd scavenged parts and some gasoline for their truck off the helicopter along with weapons and the two big packs House and Daisy had carried. House hadn't forgotten about the helicopter and its crew, but he felt it was important to make friends with the nomads. He spoke their language reasonably well. It was just a bastard variation of Arabic. When they began talking about disposing of him, he spoke up.

They were shocked to hear him speak their language. The surprise passed swiftly. He was a man after all. “My name is House and I can probably get you anything you want from the company I work for if you let us go.”

The leader's name was Masaad Abdalla, House had already picked up on that. Abdalla leaned forward and blew out a huge gust of tobacco smoke. “What is your name?”

“My name is Dane Wolfheart,” he said in Arabic. “My friends call me House.”

Abdalla called him Bayt, which was the Arabic word for house, more specifically the Egyptian Arabic word for house. “Bayt, how can you do this for us?”

“I just have to ask. My people will find me. We're fitted with tracking devices.”

“All of you?”

House shrugged instead of answering. There was no point in picking out Sarah as different from Daisy and him. “Make me a list of the things you need.” House took another hit off the water pipe and blew it out slowly. He felt very mellow. The Rizeigat were desperate or they wouldn't be this far from their home.

“We are so poor,” Abdalla said. “We need many things.”

“Why are you far from your home grazing lands?”

“There is a new kind of war in Sudan. Outsiders have come in and caused much trouble. They bring new weapons and demands of our government. They have no patience with the old ways. We have traveled freely for the ages and would continue to do so, but they wish to restrict us to certain areas. It is the same with our ancient enemies, the Misseriya. They are forced further and further south with their cattle. We came here.”

“Who are these outsiders?” House felt like he already knew the answer but needed to be sure.

“They call themselves Muslims and fighters of the jihad, al Qaida. But they are only after money and a homeland for themselves. They don't care about the people, only killing.”

House knew al Qaida was making a push in the Sudan and in Nigeria. He and his team had made a run there earlier in the year and lost many of their men. It was a dangerous and dark area with few allies. He felt sorry for these people, innocent of any wrongdoing but losing everything beneath the heavy feet of al Qaida.

“If you let me and my people go, we'll return with supplies for you and your families. You're in Ethiopia. I'm sure the government understands and sympathizes, but who knows how they'll react. You really need to head back to the Sudan.”

Abdalla frowned. “I will not willingly take my family and my tribe back there. We will all be killed.”

House checked out the assembled males of the tribe. They were hanging on his every word, desperation clearly shining from their eyes. He had no idea how he could help them. Grazing lands in Kenya were limited to the southern part of the country. In North Kenya there were a lot of game preserves and wildlife sanctuaries, more of the same in southern Ethiopia. The government would freak if they saw this band of camel herders trekking through game sanctuaries. House still couldn't understand how they had managed to get here without being shot by wardens as poachers. But this group of Bedouins had a legitimate problem. “I'll talk to my bosses and see what I can do.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Abdalla asked.

House pointed to his chest. “Because my heart and my words are true.”

A sudden burst of automatic weaponry from outside set the camels to honking and running. The men leaped to their feet. “We are under attack,” Abdalla shouted.

The men began to pass out rifles. House saw his M-4, his vest and his pistol.

“Give me my weapons. I'll fight.”

Abdullah checked with the men. They nodded and one of them from the rear of the tent tossed House his gear. He shrugged on his plates and checked the magazine of his rifle. He held a finger to his lips and eased to the opening in the tent. Using the barrel of his rifle, he pushed the flap open. A group of men dressed in the black robes of al Qaida were rushing the tent.

House dropped to one knee and opened up, taking out three surprised gunmen. Two shots hit him in the plates. He grunted, sprayed half the attackers with bullets, dropped to the ground and started rolling. The men behind him followed him out of the tent shooting as they emerged. They were armed with older model rifles, but two carried AK-47s.
Thank God for the Russians.

When he rolled behind another tent, he started running, crouched low, his weapon in front of him. He found the kitchen tent, opened the flap with the barrel of his rifle and looked inside. Daisy and Sarah saw him, leaped to their feet and ran to him. He stopped Daisy and handed her his pistol. “Looks like al Qaida or al Shebab found us. Sarah go hide with the women. Tell them to lay low and protect the kids.”

Daisy followed him out of the tent. She still had her vest, so she had some protection. He gave her his pistol. They skirted the kitchen tent and came up behind the attackers. Looked like ten of them. House had already killed three and the Rizeigat had taken out three more but at least ten remained.

Daisy opened up on them from behind. She was deadly accurate at this distance and hit two. House dropped to one knee and fired off three quick shots. The attackers had two groups after them now, the Bedouins and him and Daisy. They fired off some wild shots, but decided to run. House handed his weapon to Daisy. “I'm going after them.”

She nodded and he ran back into the kitchen tent. Seconds later, he shot around the side of the tent as a wolf. Daisy stood up intending to look for Sarah and the women. Two of the Bedouin men stared at her and then dropped their gaze. They made no move to recapture her or disarm her. Apparently, House and her fighting to protect them had won them over. She heard screams coming from far away and glanced at the men. They heard nothing. House would make sure none of the attackers ever made it home again.

The men were for the most part unhurt. She noticed two injured but their injuries looked minor. She went looking for Sarah and found her and the women huddled over a large group of children. The kids were all ages. She smiled at Sarah who stood up. “Are they gone?”

“Yeah, and we didn't lose anyone. One of the men has a nick in his arm and another fell over something and sprained his knee, but the rest are perfect. These guys okay?”

Sarah grabbed her arm. “These people are hungry. We have to help them.”

“I imagine House will handle that,” Daisy said. Her arm tingled where Sarah touched it. She'd been so worried about her. She holstered House's pistol in her belt, grabbed Sarah in a big hug, lifted her chin and kissed her gently. “I was worried about you.”

“Don't,” Sarah said. “I don't want you thinking about me when you're fighting. You could get hurt.”

“It'll be hard,” Daisy said.

House returned, shifted and dressed secretly. When he came out of the kitchen tent, he looked satisfied. Daisy envied him. She wanted to run, too. “Did you get them all?”

He nodded and shot her a wolfish grin.

“How did he get them all?” Sarah asked puzzled.

“He went after them. Didn't you see him run by?” Daisy asked.

“No, I guess I was too worried about the kids.”

House grabbed Daisy's elbow. “We need to talk.”

Sarah followed. “What? About me? Can I come?”

House allowed her to catch up. “You can listen in.”

They went into the men's tent. Several of the Bedouins had returned. They frowned when they saw Daisy and Sarah. “Are these your women?” Abdalla asked.

House shrugged as an answer. Sarah punched Daisy and whispered. “He just told that old man we belong to him.”

Daisy lifted one eyebrow. “You're objecting?”

Sarah dropped her gaze. “No, probably not a good idea.”

House pushed Daisy and Sarah behind him. The two sat in a corner. “You can understand them. Tell me what they're saying.”

House waved his hand behind his back to hush them as the rest of the men filed into the tent.

* * * *

Sarah knew a lot about the customs of Bedouins. She'd studied their religion. This group from Sudan was a little different but mostly the differences were regional. They lived in an arid area but not desert. The Bedouins of Saudi Arabia and Egypt lived in the desert. Culturally, the two groups were almost the same. They were both Muslims with strong ties to the ancient religious practices of their ancestors.

The Rizeigat revered women warriors and worshipped spirits, believing the spirits of certain animals could possess humans. Even though they revered female warriors, they still adopted the Muslim attitudes toward women. All the females of the tribe wore black robes covering them from head to toe along with heavy veils embroidered with beads. Only when alone among themselves did they remove the veils.

As a warrior, Daisy might be exempt from the rules of Purdah, but Sarah would probably be singled out and asked to dress appropriately.

The men sat in a circle and the water pipe was lit. Sarah and Daisy were not offered a hit off the pipe as it passed. When everyone had a smoke, women came in carrying trays with cups and tea in a huge silver pot. Tea was poured and a cup was passed to Daisy but not her. She was beginning to feel like she didn't belong.

A general discussion began about what had just happened. The men weren't sure why they had been attacked. The focus turned to House. He cleared his throat and the men leaned forward expectantly.

“The group that attacked us was al Qaida. They are easily recognizable by their black robes. I managed to dispatch all of them so none will return to their headquarters to speak of you. I think they may have been after us…me and my party.”

This started a hubbub of discussion. “What are they saying?” Daisy asked.

“They aren't sure if the attack was aimed at them or us. House thinks it's us. But they have a man in their tribe that got in trouble with al Qaida in their homeland. He was a member of an al Qaida cell, quit and came home to the tribe.”

Daisy whispered into her ear again and Sarah shivered. Being close to Daisy made her feel hot inside. Was she gay? She'd never thought about it. Daisy definitely was and she liked what they'd done in the cave. Liked it a lot. “It's a good thing,” she whispered back. “If they think it's us that brought al Qaida down on them, they'll kill us or try to sell us.”

After another half hour of discussion, House stood up and pulled Daisy to her feet. Daisy lifted Sarah. “I told them you were my women.”

Daisy snorted. “I know. Sarah told me.”

“For once, be quiet,” House ordered. “They've given us our own personal tent. We are going to be treated like guests. They don't have much to share. We're gonna fix that.”

Daisy put her arm around Sarah and they followed House out of the tent. Their guide led them to a small tent of hides spread across sticks. He stopped at the door flap and House lifted it. Sarah entered the tent. It was cool inside but had a strong odor of goats. There were woven mats on the floor. She sat on one as Daisy crawled inside followed by House.

Alone, Daisy pummeled House with questions. “What the hell is going on?”

“These people are on the run from fighting in the Sudan. Masaad Abdalla is their leader. His son, Nasr, left the tribe and joined al Qaida. Nasr fell in love with one of the cell members. She was sent into a hotel in Khartoum wearing a vest packed with C-4. When she blew up, Nasr's heart broke and he ran from the cell. They think that's why they were attacked and it's one of the main reasons they fled the Sudan.”