The lion was dead.

All of Silent Lion’s members had gathered in the Middle East to await the announcement of their victory.  When it didn’t come, only a few got nervous enough to run.  Most had been so certain that their plan was perfect that they waited where they were for news.  That confidence had been their undoing.  Moving quickly, Saudi and American troops had captured or killed most of the members who were in Saudi Arabia.  Those in Iraq, Iran, and the other Middle Eastern countries were also found, though, due to certain political reasons, it had sometimes been necessary to go in to get the extremists without informing the country’s government first.  Most of the members, upon realizing that there was no escape, had killed themselves.  Out of the hundreds of people on the list that Hussein had given them, only a handful had not yet been caught.

Rollie, Angie, and Hashim were back at the estate, enjoying the peace and quiet.  The moment they’d gotten back, the newlyweds had gone to their quarters for some much needed sleep.  They were now sitting in the recently ‘debugged’ sitting room with the sheik and Kamilah.

“Will you be booking a new flight out tomorrow?” Hashim asked.

“Yeah, but our tickets will be courtesy of the U.S. Government,” Rollie said.  “Both Chuck and David had a talk with their superiors and convinced them that reimbursing our plane fare for the flight we missed was the least that they could do for us.”

“Where are you going to go to next?” Kamilah asked.

“Well, we had been scheduled to go to Egypt next, but we haven’t talked about it yet.”

“I am so sorry that your honeymoon had to turn out this way,” Hashim said.  “Yet, as much as I would like to, I cannot say that I wish you had not been forced to get involved.  If it had not been for you, Silent Lion would have been victorious.”

“I’m sure someone else would have figured things out,” Rollie said, shrugging.

“I do not believe so.  I think it was destiny that brought us together and ultimately brought you here, to the one place on Earth where you were most needed.”

The Aussie shrugged again.  He didn’t want to insult Hashim by disputing him.  “I hear that the press got wind of this whole thing and has been splashing it all over the news.”

The sheik nodded.  “Fortunately, our government managed to keep most of the details from them.  All they know is that a Middle Eastern extremist group was planning a terrorist strike against certain Western targets and that they were stopped by a joint Saudi and American task force.  The press did not get any names.”

“Well, that’s good,” Angie said.  “If they found out, then you can bet that our names would be in the news all over the planet in a matter of hours.   The last thing we want is to be mugged by reporters when we step off the plane back home.  Do they know that the bombing of the office building was connected to this?”

“Yes,” Hashim confirmed.  “They also know that the explosion and everything else was a trick to help catch the extremists.”

“Let’s keep our fingers crossed and hope that our part in this thing doesn’t get out,” Rollie said.  “I’d like the rest of our honeymoon to pass uneventfully.”

That night, as they lay in bed after having made love, Rollie held Angie close.  “So, where would you like to go next?  Egypt?”  He felt Angie’s head shake.  “How about Kenya?  We were going to go there.”

“No, not Kenya” his wife said.

“Okay, maybe you’d like to go on to Morocco.”

“Uh uh.”

“Spain?”

“Nope.”

“Portugal?”

“No, not there either.”

Rollie looked down at her.  “So, where do you want to go?” he asked with a smile.

“Australia.”

The Aussie’s smile faded.  “Ange, that’s not. . . .  I know that I said I wanted to go back home, but I didn’t mean now.  This is our honeymoon.  We’re supposed to be having fun.  We haven’t been able to have much of that so far.  We should go someplace where we can just relax and have a good time, not someplace where--” He was interrupted by Angie’s finger on his mouth.

“Rollie, you need to do this.  I know that you do.  Kamilah knows that you do.  You do too somewhere inside that steel-plated skull of yours.  It’s time for you to take that journey that Kamilah spoke of.  We both know where that journey has to start and end.”

Rollie got up, slipped on his robe, and went out onto the balcony.  Angie came up behind him a few seconds later.  The Aussie stared out into the night.

“You’re right,” he murmured.  “It’s time that I stop putting it off.  I’ve been running from this for far too long.”  He put his arms around Angie.  “Thank you.”

“Promise me one thing,” the blonde said.

“What’s that?”

“This time, when I want to see where you grew up, you won’t give me any lame excuses why we can’t.”

Rollie smiled and kissed her on the nose.  “I promise.”

“Good.”  She tugged at his hand.  “Come on, Mister.  I haven’t finished having my way with you yet.”

“I love it when you take advantage of me,” Rollie said, a grin on his face, letting his wife lead him back to the bed.

At breakfast the next morning, Rollie and Angie told Hashim and his mother about their plans to go to Australia.  The sheik had greeted the news with a nod and a smile.  Since she was veiled, Rollie could not tell what Kamilah’s thoughts about this were, though she did remain strangely quiet throughout the meal.

After they were finished, Rollie called the airport.

“Well, if we want to leave this week, it’s going to have to be today, Ange,” he said as he hung up.  “All the flights out of Riyadh are booked up over the weekend.  The only reason that they have anything available today is because of a last minute cancellation.”

“When is the flight?”

“Twelve o’clock.  That isn’t going to give us enough time to ready all the equipment for shipment home.  We may have to just wait until Monday.”

The newlyweds told Hashim about the problem.  He let them know that a friend of his in the government had just learned that a reporter had found out that the sheik was somehow involved in the stuff with Silent Lion.

“I can manage to avoid this man’s questioning, but if he digs further and learns about my American guests, he may begin to suspect that you are involved, too.  If that happens, he could learn of your flight out and accost you at the airport.  Though I regret a hasty departure for you since it will not give us time for a proper goodbye, I think it would be best if you leave today.  I can see to the packing and shipment of your equipment.  The equipment has not been removed from its boxes after being brought back here, has it?”

“No, but some of it isn’t packed securely enough for the trip back home,” Angie told him.

“I will make sure that it is.  Jamaal can fly you to the airport.  That will give you a little more time.”

Admitting that Hashim was right, Rollie booked the flight to Australia, then canceled all of their plane and hotel reservations for the places that they had originally intended to go.  After that, he called Chuck to let him know that they were leaving.  The lieutenant was back at the base, which was acting as a command center for the rounding up of Silent Lion’s members.  Chuck promised to visit them the next time he was in New York.

Rollie and Angie packed their personal belongings, then, with the help of a couple of Hashim’s men, got as much of the equipment ready for shipment as they could.  The crates would be taken to the airport in Hashim’s plane tomorrow.  Rollie had made a quick call to David, who assured him that he would make sure everything got back to the loft safely.  Before they knew it, it was time to say goodbye.

“There are no words to express how grateful I am to you both,” Hashim said.  “You have saved my life twice and have removed a cancer from my country.  Though the world may never know of the wonderful thing that you did, every coming generation of my family will.  You names will be known for many, many years to come.”

Both Rollie and Angie blushed at the sheik’s words.  “Thank you, Hashim,” the Aussie said.  “Just don’t forget to tell your children and grandchildren about the part that you played in all of this.  Without you, things might not have turned out so well.”

Denying his importance in the defeat of Silent Lion, the sheik turned to see his mother enter the room.  Her eyes were on the newlyweds.  Kamilah went to Angie first, her hands held out.  Angie took them, then found herself pulled into a warm embrace.

“I will miss you, dear Angela,” the Saudi woman said.  “You’ve brought some much needed sunshine to this home.  I hope that, someday, we will see each other again.”

Surprised to find tears in her eyes, Angie blinked them away and hugged Kamilah tightly.  “I hope that, too,” she whispered.

As they drew apart, Hashim’s mother met Rollie’s gaze.  Both Angie and the sheik sensed that she wanted to speak to the Aussie alone.  Excusing themselves, they left.  As soon as the door closed, Kamilah removed her veil.  A look of sadness was on her face.  She sat on the couch with Rollie, her hands holding his.

“Twice, I owe my son’s life to you, and my joy in him being alive and well is beyond words, yet I now feel as if I am losing another son.  You have captured my heart, dear boy, and I will miss you very much.”

Rollie gazed at her, his throat tight.  He swallowed the lump away.  “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me, Kamilah.  You’ve made me see that I can’t run away from my past anymore.  Thank you so much.  I don’t know how long it will be, but, someday, we will come back, I promise.”

Their arms went about each other, and they hugged tightly.  By the time they pulled apart, there were tears in both of their eyes.  Kamilah laid her hand on the Aussie’s check.

“May Allah guide you on your journey, Rollie Tyler,” Hashim’s mother whispered.  She then got up and headed toward the door.  Her hand on the knob, she paused and looked back at him.  “Do not forget the cobra.”  She then turned and left.

Rollie stared at the door, a sudden feeling of foreboding filling him.

Rollie stared at the tickets in his hands.  In half an hour, he would be on a plane heading for home.  Home.  Though he had been living in the U.S. for nineteen years, he still thought of Australia as home.  It was going to be hard going back there, but he knew that he had to.  It was something that he should have done a long time ago.

“Earth to Rollie Tyler, Space Cadet.”

The Aussie looked up at Angie.  “Huh?”

“I was afraid that if you stared at those tickets any harder, they’d burst into flames,” Angie commented.

“Oh.  Sorry.  I guess I’m just a bit nervous about the idea of going home.”

Angie gave his hand a squeeze.  “It’ll be okay, Rol.”

The Aussie smile and gave her a quick kiss.  “I know it will.”  He looked at Angie’s left arm, which had remained out of the sling throughout the day, despite his objections.  “Now, you are going to keep your promise, right?”

Angie sighed.  “Yes, Mommy.  I promise that I will be a good girl and start wearing the sling once we get on the plane.”  She grinned mischievously.  “You know, I doubt that what we were doing last night would have met with the doctor’s approval.  I am supposed to be taking it easy.”

His face devoid of expression, Rollie said, “Well, in that case, maybe we’d better not do any of that stuff for a week or so.  I wouldn’t want you to overdo it.”

Angie leaned forward and murmured, “If you want to live until your next birthday, Mister Tyler, you’d better tell me that you’re joking.”

“Well. . . .”

Angie gave his stomach a pinch, making the Aussie jerk.  Finally, the grin that had been fighting to get out broke across his face.

“I value my life too much to even think of doing something like that, Love.”

Just then, Rollie heard his name spoken over the airport PA system.  The voice was telling him to go to a courtesy telephone.

“That better not be Chuck or David telling us that they need our help again,” Angie growled.

“Well, if it is, I’ll just tell them that, this time, the fate of the Western World will have to wait until after our honeymoon is over,” the Aussie said with a smile.  He got up and went in search of a courtesy phone.  He finally spied one and was heading toward it when he was suddenly struck by a feeling that Angie was in danger.  Not hesitating an instant, the Aussie spun around and dashed back toward where he’d left her.  She was gone.  Rollie’s eyes frantically scanned the crowd, but saw no sign of her.  He stood still for a moment and concentrated on the feel of her songline.  His head turned toward a door marked employees only.  Knowing that was where she was, he went through it.  He ran down the hallway.  As he turned a corner, he slid to a halt.  Angie was up ahead, her arm held firmly by a man in Saudi clothing.  Rollie saw that the man was holding a gun to her back.

His eyes narrowing, Rollie ran headlong for them, the sound of his running feet hidden by the noise of machinery.  Lowering his head, Rollie rammed full speed into the man.  They both went flying, landing in a tangle of limbs.

“Angie, run!” Rollie screamed.  He scrambled away from the man and reached for the gun.  Just as he grabbed it, the Saudi latched onto his legs.  Swinging with all his might, Rollie brought his hand around and smashed the gun into the guy’s jaw.  He heard the sound of bone cracking, then the Saudi fell to the floor, unconscious.

Rollie crawled out from underneath him, got to his feet, and took a step toward Angie.

“Rollie, look out!” she cried.

The Aussie turned just as something connected with his head.  The last thing he saw before darkness closed over him was a hand with a tattoo of a cobra.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO -- COBRA

Rollie rose slowly out of the blackness, brought into the light by the pounding in his head and the sun in his eyes.  His eyelids opened cautiously.  The first thing he saw was Angie’s knees, and he realized that his head was in her lap.

“Are you okay, Rol?” he heard her ask.

The Aussie groaned and felt the bump on the back of his head.  “I really wish that we would stop getting into situations where you have to ask me that.”  He became aware of the fact that they were in a jeep of some kind and traveling over rough terrain.  “Where are we?”

“I’m not sure.  I think we’re in the desert we flew over when we first arrived.  Um, Rub’ al Khali, if I remember right.  They drugged me and probably you, too.  I woke up only a few minutes ago.  I asked who they were, but they won’t talk to me.”

Rollie sat up with Angie’s help.  Ignoring the momentary dizziness, he looked around.  They were in some kind of cross between a jeep and a dune buggy, and they were, indeed, in the great desert called the Empty Quarter.  He and Angie were in the back seat, along with the man whom Rollie had hit with the gun.  The man’s jaw sported an ugly bruise and was badly swollen.  Rollie suspected that it was broken.  The Saudi was glaring at him, hatred in his eyes.

The Aussie turned away from him and focused his attention on the two men in the front seats.  “Who are you?  What do you want?”  One of the men turned around, and Rollie was struck with recognition.  “I know you.  You’re the man we met in Riyadh after I bought the scarf for Angie.”

“Yes.  Ahmed Sallah.  I am pleased that you remember me,” the man said.  He brought a cigarette to his lips.

Rollie stared at the tattoo on the back of the Saudi’s hand.  It was of a hissing cobra.  The Aussie’s eyes returned to the man’s face.  This was the cobra?  Who was he?  He asked the second question aloud.

“Just a businessman seeking more profit for his . . . organization.”

“Are you a part of Silent Lion?”

The man frowned in puzzlement.  “Silent Lion?  What is that?”  The frown cleared.  “Ah, yes.  I heard that name on the news.  That is the terrorist group that caused all this recent furor.  Why would you think that I was with them?”

Rollie studied the Saudi narrowly.  The man really didn’t know.  “What do you want with us?” he asked.

“We do not want you.  In fact, you being here is going to be very troublesome.  We only wanted your wife.”

“Me?  What for?” Angie asked.

“You will make me a great deal of money.”

“Money?  What are. . . .”  Rollie’s eyes widened.  “White slavery?  That’s what this is all about?” White slavery was something he’d only heard about in movies and on TV.  He couldn’t believe that it actually still existed.

“Such a nasty term and not really very accurate.  Our acquisitions are seldom sold to act as slaves, and we do not limit ourselves to women with white skin.”

“Your acquisitions?  What kind of monster are you?” Angie asked, her voice full of loathing.

The man turned his gaze upon her.  He reached out a hand and ran his finger down her cheek and jaw line.  The second he touched her, Rollie leapt at him, but was yanked back by the man sitting next to him.  There was no one to restrain Angie, though.  She slapped the hand away, then took a swing at the man’s face.  He caught her wrist and held on.  Angie brought her free hand up and raked her fingernails across his cheek.  The man raised his other hand as if to strike her.  Then he paused and smiled.  His hand lowered, and he released her wrist.

“I see that you are as spirited as I believed you to be.  Very good.  My client will be pleased.”

Rollie was struggling with all his strength against the arms that were imprisoning him.  Rage, fear, and revulsion were roiling inside him.  This creature planned on selling Angie like she was some kind of merchandise, and the Aussie knew what it was that the client wanted her for.  “I’ll kill you and your client before he can lay a hand on her,” he spat, breathing hard.

“Oh, I have no doubt that you would if you were given the chance, Mister Tyler.”  Sallah spoke something in Arabic to the Saudi who was holding Rollie, and the man released the Aussie.

Rollie slid closer to Angie and took her hand.  Their eyes met, an unspoken message passing between them.  Angie squeezed his hand.  Rollie returned his attention to Sallah.

“I have been trying to decide what to do with you,” the man said.  “We had not anticipated you coming to your wife’s rescue like you did.  We had believed that there would be no trouble in getting her out of the airport before you even realized that something was wrong.  Ivette was supposed to keep you busy on the telephone.”

“Ivette?  You have a woman working for you?” Angie asked, shocked.  She couldn’t believe that any woman would have a part in something like this.

“Yes, indeed.  Ivette has been very helpful to us in the past.  We often use her to lure away boyfriends and the like.”  Sallah looked at Rollie.  “Her charms did not work on you, however.”

“Me?” the Aussie said, surprised.  “I don’t remember. . . .  Wait a minute.  The woman in the restaurant in Abha.  So, that wasn’t simply an attempt to pick me up.  But how did you know we were there?  Were you following us?”

“After we met in Riyadh, you were followed throughout the rest of your day there by one of my men, who was to take your wife if he had the opportunity.  While he watched you, I did some checking and learned who your Saudi sponsor was.  When you left on the sheik’s private airplane that evening, I assumed that you were staying at Sheik Alafa’s estate.  We sent a man out to watch the place.  When you flew off the next morning, I alerted my people who are stationed at the larger airports to keep an eye out for you.”

“So, you followed us all the time that we were in Abha?”

Sallah nodded.  “Again, looking for an opportunity to take Mrs. Tyler.  When that opportunity did not present itself, I chose to use Ivette.  Unfortunately, that failed as well.”

“It was you,” Rollie said.

The Saudi’s eyebrows rose inquiringly.

“When we got on the elevator, I thought I saw someone I recognized just before the doors closed.  It was you I saw.”

“Yes, I was there.  Anyway, my men again followed you as you went to the museum and other places.  Then, the day after that, the number of guards patrolling the sheik’s estate dramatically increased for some reason.  The man who was watching the estate, fearing detection, left.  By then, I had decided that we would take your wife at the airport when you went there for your return flight.”

Rollie knew what the man meant about the guards.  After Hashim found out about the call that Rollie had received from David, the sheik had increased the guards patrolling the estate.

“But fate handed me another opportunity,” Sallah said, interrupting the Aussie’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Angie asked.

The man looked at her.  “One of my men in Riyadh spotted you in a restaurant two days later and decided to make an attempt to grab you.  Unfortunately for him, and for me, you proved to be a bit more than he could handle.”

“The drunk?”  There was surprise in Angie’s voice.

Sallah nodded.  “He was, of course, not intoxicated.  That was simply an act.”  He turned back to Rollie.  “When you did not make your flight yesterday, I wondered what happened.  I kept an eye on airline reservations, and this morning I saw that you had booked that flight to Australia.”

Sallah studied the Aussie.  “As I was saying before, I have been trying to decide what to do about you.  We have never had to deal with a husband before.  Most of my clients prefer women who have never been married.  I cannot have you around causing trouble when the client comes to pick up your wife, but I prefer not to resort to the extreme.”  The man shrugged.  “I really do not have any choice in this matter.”  He turned his back to them.

All at once, Rollie remembered Kamilah’s dream.  A second after that, he had a sudden feeling of danger.  He turned toward the Saudi beside him just in time to see the man pull a knife from his robe and thrust it at the Aussie’s chest.  Rollie’s hands shot out and grabbed the man’s wrists.

“Rollie!” Angie cried.

The Saudi grabbed Rollie’s arm and tried to loosen the Aussie’s grasp on his wrist.  When that didn’t work, he brought his fist back to hit Rollie in the face.  Before he could strike, though, Angie leaned forward and bit down hard on the hand that was holding the knife.  The man yelled in pain.  Grabbing the opportunity, Rollie swung his own fist up into the man’s broken jaw.  The Saudi shrieked in agony, and the knife dropped from his hand.  Rollie dove to pick it up--and found himself staring into the barrel of a gun.

“Enough of this,” Sallah said and pulled the trigger.

In the same instant that the man’s finger tightened on the trigger, the Aussie threw himself to the left into Sallah’s man, who was still stunned from the blow to his broken jaw.

Angie dove for Sallah, grabbing his arm.  “Rollie, run, run!” she screamed.  At the same moment, the man in the back seat reached for him.

Rollie’s fist flew out to punch the guy beside him in the jaw again.  The Saudi’s eyes glazed over.  He then dove for Sallah just as the man struck Angie, knocking her away, and aimed the gun at Rollie’s head.  The Aussie grabbed his arm, and the gun went off, sending a bullet whizzing past Rollie’s ear.  The jeep came to a sudden stop, slamming the Aussie into the front seat.  An arm snaked out and wrapped around his throat.  Rollie pulled at the driver’s arm, but could not loosen its grip.  Sallah raised the gun and pressed it against Rollie’s forehead.

“I knew that you were going to be troublesome,” the Saudi said coldly.

Rollie knew that he was going to die.  His eyes met Angie’s terrified ones, silently telling her that he loved her.  She was crying.

“Please don’t.  Please don’t kill him,” she sobbed.

The newlywed’s eyes never leaving each other, Rollie waited for the bullet to come crashing through his skull.  The seconds ticked by with nothing happening.  Finally, Sallah lifted the gun away from the Aussie’s head.  Keeping it trained upon him, the Saudi said, “Get out.”

The Aussie paused.

“Get out, Mister Tyler, or your wife will watch you die here and now.”

Rollie climbed out of the dune jeep.  Standing beside it, he glared at Sallah.

“I would have given you a quick death, but I now suspect that if Angela saw you die, she might do something rash that would deprive me of the money that I will get for her.”

“What are you going to do?” the Aussie asked.

“Nothing, Mister Tyler.  I am going to do nothing.  I am going to let the desert take care of you for me.”  He spoke something in Arabic to the driver, and the jeep started up.

Horrified, the Aussie ran after it.  “No!” he cried.  “Angie!”  He heard his wife’s voice crying out to him as he kept running.  But the dune jeep kept getting farther and farther away, taking Angie away from him.  “No!  No!”

Realizing that his pursuit was hopeless, the Aussie finally stopped.  “Angie!!!” he screamed one last time as the dune jeep disappeared from view.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE -- SEPARATED

A piercing scream echoed through the estate.  Hashim leapt out of his chair and ran upstairs, nearly colliding with his mother, who had just come running out of her room.

“Help them!  You have to help them!” she cried, her eyes wild with fear.

The sheik grabbed her arms.  “Mother!  What is wrong?!”

“Rollie and Angela!  You must help them!  They are in terrible danger.”

“They are on an airplane heading to Australia, Mother.”

Kamilah shook her head violently.  “No, no!  They are still here, and they need help!”

Hashim stared at his mother.  He had no doubt that she was right.  Grabbing up a phone, he dialed the airport.  His feeling of dread increased when he found out that the newlyweds had missed their flight.  He turned back to his mother.  “Do you know where they are?”

“No.  I only know that the cobra has struck and that Rollie will die if someone does not help him.  They may both die.”

“Please, Mother.  Can you not tell me anything?  I must have a place to start.”

“I do not know!” Kamilah cried.  “I did not see anything except a large, empty place.  There was nothing more.”

The sheik turned away and began to pace.  His eyes went back to the telephone.  He called the operator, got the number he wanted, then dialed it.  “Yes, I need to speak to Lieutenant Green,” he said when the call connected.  “This is Sheik Hashim Alafa.  Tell him that it is an emergency.”

About a minute later, the lieutenant answered.  “What’s wrong, Hashim?”

“Rollie and Angela never made their flight.  My mother says that they are in extreme danger.  I need your help.”

There was about two seconds of silence, then, “Hold on a minute, Hashim.”  The sheik heard Chuck talking to someone, then the man’s voice came back on the line.  “I’m sending some men over to the airport to see if they can find out anything.  Do you have any idea what happened?”

“I am afraid not.  I only know that it is something to do with the cobra of Rollie’s dreams.”

“I just hope that they weren’t grabbed by members of Silent Lion.  If they were, they may already be dead.”

“I know,” Hashim said.

“I’ll let you know what we find out.”  The call disconnected.

The sheik turned to Kamilah.  “We will find them, Mother, no matter what it takes.”

Rollie walked.  His eyes stayed upon the tracks that the dune jeep had made in the sand.  He had no idea how far he would have to go before reaching the place that Angie had been taken, but he would keep walking until he reached it--or until he was dead.

The heat was appalling.  It pounded against him mercilessly.  He was already thirsty.  If he could have found a stone to suck on, it would have kept his saliva from drying up, but there was nothing but sand for miles in all directions.  He knew that he should try to find some shade and stay there until the sun had gone down, but he could not lose the time.  Angie needed him.

As he trudged forward, he began to sing, not aloud, but in his mind.  It was a song that Rollie had learned as a child, one that Mangela had taught him.  Not an ordinary song, it was a song of Creation, one of the songs that the Aborigines had been singing for countless millennia.  He had not thought of these songs in years, yet the words came to him as if he had learned them only yesterday.  As he silently sang, he seemed to grow stronger, gaining strength from the words.  His walking changed to a lope.  His breathing deepened, in through his nose, out his mouth.  In, out.  In, out.  Without fully realizing it, Rollie slipped into the upper levels of the Dreamtime.  The world faded away.  There was now only the song and the tracks before him.  Even the heat seemed to diminish until it was no longer noticeable.

Lost in the trance, Rollie kept moving, heading toward the most important thing in his life.

Angie sat in the tiny room, her stomach a tight knot of fear and worry.  She kept thinking of Rollie, alone in the middle of that desert with no water and no way to contact help.  How long could he survive out there?  As a child, he had survived three days in the Australian outback with no water.  Could he make it that long again?  She knew that the distance they had traveled in the dune jeep was far greater than a person on foot in that kind of terrain could cover in three days.  Maybe he would go the other way, back in the direction they’d come from.  He might be able to reach help then.  She knew that he wouldn’t do that, though.  His first and only thought would be to find her.

The door opened to admit one of the musclebound types that seemed to abound there.

“Come with me,” the man said.

Angie sighed and went with him, not saying a word.  She had tried to put up a fight earlier and had been rewarded with a punch in the stomach.  She’d thrown curses at them, which had resulted in her being tied and gagged.  The cursing and fighting did no good anyway.  Even if she could escape on her own, where would she go?  They were in the middle the desert.  Unless she stole a vehicle, there was no way that she could make it out of there.

She was taken out of the cubicle, then out of the tent that covered the building.  The entire place was like that.  From a distance, it would look like just an ordinary Bedouin camp.  No one would ever have guessed that each tent hid an air-conditioned building.  Power for the buildings was provided by solar panels, which were hidden at the center of a group of tents.

Angie winced slightly at the pain in her shoulder as she was marched across the camp.  The struggle in the jeep, then fighting with her captors later had aggravated the stab wound.  She had considered telling someone about it, but was afraid to find out what Sallah would do upon discovering that she was ‘damaged goods’.

Angie was led to a much larger tent, the largest one there.  The man opened the door to the building within and motioned for her to go in.  She stepped through the door, which was then closed behind her.  Angie didn’t pay any attention to that, though, for she’d seen what was inside.  The blonde found herself gazing into the faces of nearly two dozen other women.  They were all staring at her.

One of the women came forward.  “I am Fatima.  Do you understand English?”

“Yes.  I’m Angie, Angie Tyler.”

“You are an American.”

The blonde nodded.

“We have no other Americans here at the moment.  Please.  Come sit down.”

Fatima led her to a group of pillows in the far right corner.  There was no furniture in the room except for a small table upon which sat a pitcher of water and several cups.  As she sat down, Angie looked about at the women again.  Though the majority of them were white-skinned, there were a number from other races as well.

“Are all these women here to be . . . sold?”  Just speaking the word made Angie feel an overwhelming sense of outrage and horror.

“Yes.  They were all stolen from family and friends and brought here to be sold like pets for some man’s pleasure.”  There was anger and hatred in the woman’s voice.  Angie had guessed from her accent and appearance that she was Middle Eastern.  “What of you?   How did you come here?”

“They grabbed my husband and me at the airport.”

“Husband?  You are married?” Fatima asked in surprise.

“Yes.  We . . . we were on our honeymoon,” Angie said, her voice faltering for a moment.  ‘Are on our honeymoon,’ she told herself firmly.  ‘Don’t start using the past tense, Angie, or you’ll lose it for sure.  Rollie is alive.  He isn’t going to die.’

“Where is your husband now?”

“They left him out in the desert to die.”  Angie’s voice vibrated with her hatred for Ahmed Sallah and what he had done.

Fatima took her hands.  “Oh, Angie.  I am so sorry.  I grieve for you.”

“No!  I am not grieving!  Rollie isn’t dead.  He isn’t going to die.  You don’t know him.  He’s a survivor.  He’s survived things that should have been impossible.  This isn’t the first time that he’s been in a situation like this.  He made it through that time, he will again.  He has to.”

Fatima nodded and gave her hands a squeeze.  “Come.  Let me introduce you to everyone.”

They moved around the room, Fatima introducing Angie to each woman.  Some of the women could not speak English, so others had to translate for them.  The expressions on the women’s faces ranged from anger, to fear, to resignation.

“Are there always this many women here?” Angie asked.

“No, there are more now than there used to be,” Fatima replied.  “I overheard one of the guards say that they had expanded their territory.”

“You mean that they’re abducting women in other countries?”

The Saudi woman nodded.  “They always have been, but they have expanded outward even further.”

“So, this isn’t just a small operation.  How long have they been at it?”

“I am not sure.  The women who are here when others arrive usually pass on what information they have to the new arrivals.  From what I have been told, I would say that these people have been doing this for three years now.”

Three years.  Angie thought of all the poor women who had been kidnapped and sold in that time.  “How long do women stay here before someone takes them?”

“It varies.  Never more than two or three weeks.  I doubt that it will be that long for you, though.  The fact that they took you even though you are married means that they probably have a particular man who wants someone like you.”

Angie felt nausea twist around in her stomach.  Just then, she noticed one woman, only a girl really, who was sitting alone from the rest of them.  She was silently crying.

“Who’s that?” Angie asked.

“That is Maria.  She was brought in two days ago.  She is from Spain, and no one here speaks Spanish.”

“I do,” Angie said.  She walked over to the girl.  “Hello.  My name is Angela Tyler.  You can call me Angie,” the blonde said in her father’s native tongue.

Maria’s eyes lit up.  She latched onto Angie’s hands.  “Oh!  You speak Spanish!  I have felt so alone.  No one could talk to me and tell me what’s happening.  Where are you from?”

“Well, I’ve lived in the United States since I was eight, but I was born in Cuba.  My father was Cuban and my mother part Cuban.”

“Please, tell me what’s happening.  Tell me why I am here,” Maria pleaded.

Though she hated to be the one to have to tell her, Angie explained to Maria what was going on.

The girl’s eyes widened with terror.  They filled with tears.  “I am to be sold?  I am to be given to some horrible man to make me his slave, to . . . to rape me?”  She started shaking her head.  “No, no, no, no!”  She began to scream, curling herself up into a tight little ball.

Angie pulled the girl into her arms.  “Maria!  Please stop.  It’s going to be all right.  We’ll get out of here.  I promise.  We will find a way.”

The girl’s screams dwindled away.  She wrapped her arms around Angie’s waist with almost suffocating force.  The blonde continued to stroke her hair and murmur soothingly until Maria quieted completely.  At last, the girl lifted her head.  Angie smiled at her.

“I’m sorry that I am being such a child.  I should be stronger,” Maria mumbled.

“Don’t be silly,” Angie said.  “If there’s anything worth falling apart over, I’d say that this is it.”  She studied Maria’s face.  “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

Angie’s anger toward their captors deepened.  The girl was even younger than she’d thought.  “Why don’t you come and sit with Fatima and me,” she said, fighting to keep the smile on her face.

They returned to where Angie and Fatima had sat before.  “How long have you been here, Fatima?” Angie asked, repeating the question in Spanish so that Maria could understand.

“Six days now.  They kidnapped me right out of my father’s home.  I probably would have been gone by now, but the man who wanted me changed his mind.  They are waiting for someone else to choose me.”

Angie translated for Maria.  “Is that what the cameras are for?  So that their clients can ‘browse’ among the women without us seeing them?” she then asked, again, repeating the questions in Spanish.

Fatima’s eyebrows rose.  “I am surprised that you noticed the cameras so quickly.  Most of us do not see them until someone else points them out.”

Angie looked up at one of the two hidden cameras.  “Cameras are a large part of what I do for a living, and I’ve had quite a bit of experience with ones that are hidden.”  Once she’d said that, Fatima wanted to know all about her work.  In talking about work, Angie, of course, ended up talking about Rollie.  Before she knew it, she had told them all about him, the things he’d gone through as a child, how they met, their adventures--and misadventures--together, their work as F/X artists.  In the end, she recounted the events that had led up to her being here.

The Saudi woman stared at her, amazement on her face.  “I have never heard such an extraordinary tale.  What you and he have been through, what you both have done, it is like nothing I have ever heard before.”

Angie looked down at Maria.  The girl’s eyes were wide with wonder.  “Your husband sounds so wonderful, so brave, and strong, and caring, like a prince,” the girl said.

Angie laughed with delight.  “Rollie a prince?  Oh, he’d love you for that, Maria.  He is a terrific guy, and there is no one in the world that I’d rather have for a husband, but he isn’t a knight in shining armor.  Nobody is.  He has flaws like everyone else.  Sometimes, he drives me nuts.”  A loving smile curved her lips.  “And, sometimes, he is so wonderful that I wonder what I did to deserve him.”

“Is he very handsome?” Maria asked, her eyes still shining.

“Yes, he is, though I don’t think that he believes he is.  He’s tall and slim.  He has soft, wavy brown hair, the kind that you love to run your fingers through.  He has a smile that would melt the polar icecaps.  It’s the kind of smile that goes all the way into his eyes.”  Angie sighed.  “Then there are his eyes.  They’re a warm, deep brown that seep right into your soul.”  The blonde’s voice drifted away as she thought of her husband.  With a start, she came back to the present and repeated in English for Fatima what she’d just told Maria.

“You love him very much,” the Saudi woman said.

“Yes.  He’s my life.”  And now he is out there in that huge desert, dying of thirst and the heat.  Angie looked away and closed her eyes, holding back the tears that were threatening to come.

Maria’s small hand slipped into hers.  “Why are you crying, Angie?”

Angie realized that the girl didn’t know about what had happened to Rollie.  The blonde told her, giving her, then Fatima, all of the details.

Maria’s face had grown pale.  “They just left him?  Left him to die?”

“Yes,” Angie whispered.

“But he won’t die.  He will find help, right?  Then he will come to rescue you, and us, too.”  There was a note of desperation in the girl’s voice.

Angie realized that Maria had developed a case of hero worship over Rollie, even though she had never even seen him.  ‘You don’t even have to be present and they fall for you, Rollie,’ she commented silently.

“No, he won’t die, Maria,” she said aloud.  “I know he won’t.  Somehow, he’ll get out of this.  But he might not be able to rescue us.  He doesn’t know where we are.  He could follow the tracks, but if a breeze picks up, they would be wiped out.”  Would Rollie be able to follow her songline?  His ability to sense her presence had grown very strong, but how many miles separated them?  Was it too far?  She didn’t know.  She had to assume that it was.  “We have to get out of this ourselves, Maria,” she continued.  “There are more of us than there are of them.  If we can plan it right, we could escape in the jeeps.”  Her words had been pitched low, just in case the cameras monitoring them also had microphones.  Fortunately, they were sitting in the corner furthest from the cameras.

“Some of the women have tried to escape before.  They were punished for it.”

“Punished?” Maria said in fear after Angie had translated.

“They were not punished in any way that would leave marks on the body,” Fatima explained.  “Ahmed Sallah would not want the value of his merchandise lowered.  But there are things that can be done to give punishment that will not show upon the body.  Not long after I arrived, one of the women struck the guard as he brought the food.  She ran, but was caught within a few yards.  They took her away to another building.  Even through the walls, we could hear her screams.  When she was brought back here, she no longer spoke to anyone.  She was sold a couple of days later.”

The door opened, and a man carrying a basket of fruit and bread came in.  He sat the basket down, then went back out, shutting the door behind him.  The women all moved toward the basket, patiently waiting their turn to take their share of the food.  After getting some for themselves, Angie, Fatima, and Maria returned to their cushions.

Angie studied her companions.  “One or even two or three women alone could not escape.  For this to work, it will have to be all of us together.”

“Do you have a plan?” Fatima asked.

“No, not yet.  I need to talk to the other women first, see how they feel about things.  And I need more information.  For one thing, I have to find out how many men there are and what would be the best time to move.  Most importantly, though, I need to know what direction we came from when they brought me.  I’m not sure if I could determine that on my own.”

The Saudi woman looked into Angie’s eyes.  “You hope to find him.  You hope to find Rollie.”

Angie nodded.  “It might be the only chance he has.”

“Then we will need to do this quickly,” Fatima said in a matter of fact tone of voice.

Chuck, Hashim, and Kamilah sat in the sitting room, the two Saudis listening anxiously to what the American had to say.

“We talked to all the airport employees who were there at the time of Rollie and Angie’s flight,” Chuck told them.  “A few people remembered them, but didn’t notice anything unusual.  Then we found a man who saw Angie being led away by a Saudi.  According to this guy, Angie looked scared.  That’s why he remembered it.”

“Did he see Rollie?”

“No, but he was on his way out when he saw her.  We did find another man who saw Rollie running through the airport like a crazed man and someone else who saw him go through a service door.  We searched the area beyond the door and found a tooth.”

The sheik looked at him in surprise.  “A tooth?”

“That’s right.  The tooth had a gold filling, so it couldn’t have belonged to either Rollie or Angie.”

“Then it is from to one of the people who took them,” Hashim said.

Chuck nodded.  “I’d say that there was probably a fight, and Rollie managed to knock out a tooth or two.”

“What do you think happened?”

“Well, by what we’ve learned, it looks like someone grabbed Angie, Rollie went after them, and they both ended up being taken.  We still have no idea who took them.  There is something interesting, though.  We learned that someone had Rollie paged on the PA system.  From what we’ve found out about the times that all these things happened, it looks as if Rollie was lured away from Angie so that she could be grabbed.  But something must have happened to make Rollie come back sooner than expected.”

“This sounds like they only wanted Angela,” Hashim said.  “That is not something that members of Silent Lion would do.  They would want both of them.”

“I know.  Even if they were planning on offering a trade for their leader, they would take both of them for added leverage.  This thing doesn’t make any sense.”

“Rollie and Angela are no longer together,” Kamilah said.  The men looked at her.  “They have been separated.”

“How do you know?” Chuck asked.

“I know.  That is all that is important.”

The lieutenant continued to stare at her.  “Oookay,” he finally said.  He turned back to the sheik.  “Hashim, is there anything you know of, any other enemies that Rollie or Angie may have mentioned who might be responsible for this?”

“No, none.  I know that they have enemies in the States, but I doubt that any of them would come all the way to Saudi Arabia to seek revenge.”

“No, that wouldn’t make much sense, would it.”  Chuck sighed.  He shook his head.  “We just don’t have enough to go on.  I’ve sent the tooth to the U.S. for a DNA analysis of the blood that was on it, but I don’t know how much good that’s going to do.”

“I have contacted everyone I know in our government and military,” Hashim said.  “They have promised to tell me if they learn anything.”  He got up and looked out the window.  “This is not right.  After all that they have done, it cannot be that they will now die.  It cannot be.”  There was grief and anger in his voice.

Kamilah went to her son.  “We must trust in Allah, Hashim.  We must trust that, somehow, they will be saved.”

The phone rang, and one of the servants answered it.  After speaking on the phone for a moment, he brought the receiver to Hashim, telling him that the caller was David Rain.

“I just found out what happened,” David said.  “Do you have any news?”  The agent’s voice was heavy with worry.

“We have found out some things,” the sheik told him.  “Here.  I will let you speak to Lieutenant Green.”  He handed the phone to Chuck, who filled his cousin in on the status of the search.

“Chuck, if there is anything that you need, and I mean anything to help find them, you tell me,” David said.  “One way or another, I’ll get it.”

“Okay, Dave.  I may have to take you up on that.  I’ll keep you informed on our progress.”  The lieutenant disconnected the call and gave the phone back to Hashim.

“It sounds as if your cousin and Rollie are quite close,” the sheik commented.

“Yeah.  Funny thing is that they haven’t known each other very long.  But Dave told me that he and Rollie just seemed to click, almost like they’ve known each other for years.”  He sighed.  “I just pray that David isn’t going to lose somebody else he cares about.”

“We are all praying for that,” Hashim said somberly.

Later, back in her room, Kamilah prayed with all her heart for the lives of the man whom she had come to love as a son and the woman that man loved as his own soul.

Rollie barely noticed it when the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.  In the darkness, he could no longer see the dune jeep’s tracks, but it did not matter.  He was following another track now, one that could not be hidden from him by the loss of light.  He was following Angie’s songline.  Rollie knew that it would lead him straight to her.

Whenever the Aussie began to grow fatigued, he reduced his speed to a walk until his pulse and respiration slowed to normal.  He’d give himself a couple of extra minutes, then resume jogging.  Mangela had taught him this as a way to cover long distances on foot if you couldn’t afford to stop and you didn’t have the stamina to keep running.  The problem was that Rollie was now slogging through deep sand, which made running and walking difficult.  He found that the times where he had to slow to a walk were far more frequent than they should have been.

Throughout the night, Rollie pressed onward.  He wanted to stop.  He wanted to lie down in the sand and sleep, but doing so would lose precious time, time that Angie might not have.  So, he kept moving, heading for that distant point where he knew his wife was.

“I’m coming, Angie.  I’m coming,” he whispered.

Angie lay in the darkness, her longing for Rollie a horrible pain deep in her heart, her fear for him burning in her mind.  More than anything in the world, she ached to feel his arms around her, to hear the sound of him breathing.  Instead, all she heard was the sound of the other women sleeping.  She knew that she should sleep too, but her mind was too full of thoughts of Rollie and of escape.

She had gotten to know the other women that evening, feeling them out to see who would be for an escape attempt and who would be too frightened to even try.  She was pleased to find that virtually all of the women were determined enough to get out of there that they were willing to risk the danger if they knew that there was a good chance of success.  By then, it was too late to do anything else, so Angie had been forced to say that they would start planning in the morning.

Now, as she lay awake while everyone else slept, a sense of urgency had filled her.  Every day that passed, every hour, reduced the chances of getting to Rollie in time.  Angie believed fervently that Rollie was still okay, but he would not be for much longer.  Maybe tomorrow something would happen and they’d be able to escape and go find him.

Clinging to that desperate hope, Angie finally slipped into a restless sleep, filled with dreams of Rollie trying to find her.

It was much harder to run today.  Rollie was beginning to suffer from dehydration and exhaustion.  He found himself walking more and running less.  He was drenched in sweat, his shirt plastered to him.  But, still, he kept going.  He would not give up.  The thought of Angie and what they might be doing to her filled his mind, giving him strength through his determination to find her and make the people who took her pay.

As he slipped in and out of the Dreamtime, images of Luther Cale kept coming to him, haunting him.  Rollie kept seeing the hatred in the boy’s eyes in that instant before he pushed Rollie off Kata Tjuta.  Afterwards, Cale had climbed down to where Rollie’s fall had ended.  Only half-conscious, Rollie had nevertheless heard and remembered the words that Cale spoke.

“You should have stayed away from the People and out of my life and my family.  Well, you won’t be there anymore.  I’ll let the outback kill you, Rollie.  I’ll let Australia kill you.”  He had then walked away, leaving Rollie to die a slow death.

And now, it had happened again.  ‘I survived that time.  I beat Cale.  I can do it again.  I must do it again.  I can’t let Sallah win.’

More minutes dragged by, minutes in which he covered only a fraction of the distance separating him from Angie.  After a while, Rollie slowed to a walk again, his chest heaving.  His lungs burned with each breath.  If he could just sleep. . . .

Rollie awoke with a start, realizing that he had actually fallen asleep while walking.  It was amazing that he hadn’t fallen on his face.   Giving his head a shake and rubbing his hands vigorously across his face, Rollie continued.  He’d gone perhaps another quarter mile when it happened again.  Finally, the Aussie stopped.  He couldn’t go on, not without rest.  He walked to the nearest sand dune and crossed to the side that was in shade.  The shade would not last long, but it was better than laying out in the scorching sun.  Rollie laid down and was asleep before he even had time to think about it.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR -- TOGETHER

It was night again, another night without Rollie beside her.  No miracle had happened during the day to allow Angie to escape.  The hours had dragged by as she, Fatima and Maria laid the groundwork for the escape, quietly bringing the other women in on it.  It had taken hours to talk to all the women and make sure that they understood everything, the barrier of language often getting in the way.  By the time everyone was in on the plan, had been convinced that it could succeed, and knew what would have to be done, it was too late in the day to put the plan into action. Hopefully, they would be able to do so tomorrow.

Tomorrow.  The sense of urgency that had filled Angie last night was many times worse now.  By now, Rollie would be dangerously dehydrated, perhaps suffering from heat stroke.  The delirium would come soon, seeing things that weren’t there, hearing things that did not exist.  Eventually, he would be too weak to walk.  Then. . . .  Angie stopped herself.  They would find him before then.

“We’ll find you, Rollie.  I swear that we’ll find you,” she whispered.

Rollie kept up a steady pace, thankful for the relative coolness of the night.  The sleep had helped tremendously, but he had slept far too long.  By the time he had awakened, the sun was going down.  Not even the loss of his shade had awakened him.  He was now trying to make up some of the time that he had lost.  He knew that he was pushing himself too hard.  Common sense told him that he should conserve his strength.  But common sense wouldn’t help him if by the time he got to where Angie had been taken, she was no longer there.  That was the fear that haunted his every waking hour, that Angie would be taken away to some distant place where he would never find her, some horrible place where the man she was sold to would. . . .  Rollie pushed the thought away.  It made him sick.  It made him want to scream and tear Sallah’s throat out.

Rollie drifted back into the upper levels of the Dreamtime, seeking peace.  Angie’s face arose before him, her blue eyes gazing earnestly into his.

‘I’m coming, Angel.  I won’t let them hurt you,’ he said to the vision.

‘I love you, Rollie,’ Angie whispered in his mind.  ‘Please don’t leave me.’

‘I won’t leave, Ange.  I’ll never leave you.’

The image of Angie faded away, despite Rollie’s desire for it to stay.  In its place, another image appeared.  He saw black stones in the sand.  The stones were hollow inside.  As he watched, a flock of doves burst from one of the stones, along with a lone eagle.  Snakes came crawling out of the other stones, but there were too many birds for them to stop.  Suddenly, more snakes appeared from nowhere and overwhelmed the doves.  The eagle fought the snakes, but one of them struck at it.  The eagle fell, never to rise again.

Rollie cried out.  He stumbled and fell.  Trembling, he sat on the ground.  Another Dreaming, but, this time, there was no doubt of what it meant.  Angie and whoever was with her were going to try to escape, but it wasn’t going to work and Angie would die.

The Aussie scrambled to his feet and took off, increasing his pace.  He had to reach her.  He had to warn her.  “Please, Angie, don’t do it.  You have to wait,” he whispered.

Angie’s eyes opened to the quiet darkness of the room.  She had fallen asleep and dreamed of Rollie.  He had been talking to her, telling her that he would never leave her.  She knew that it had just been a dream, but it made her feel better all the same.

The blonde turned onto her side.  She could see the sleeping figure of Maria a couple of feet away.  The girl hadn’t left her side ever since their first conversation.  Looking at her, Angie felt a deep sorrow and anger rise in her.  How many other young girls had had their lives destroyed by Sallah and his operation?  It had to stop.  It was going to stop.  She was going to make sure of that.  Through the door, she had overheard two of the guards talking.  Sallah had a computer on which he kept all the information on his business dealings.  If she could get hold of that computer, the entire operation could be brought down.

Angie closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.  She did not know how long she had been asleep when she was awakened by the sound of some of the other women moving about.  No sunlight could get into the windowless building.  All they had to tell what time it was were the watches that some of them wore and the clock that was on the wall.  According to that clock, it was now 7 a.m.  One of the women went over to the wall by the door and turned on the light.  The light was on a dimmer, and she kept the illumination low for the sake of the ones who were still sleeping.  Angie rose and waited her turn in the bathroom, holding in her arms one of the dresses that had been deposited in a pile on the floor last night.  According to Fatima, they were provided fresh clothing every day, and all of the worn garments were taken away to be cleaned.  They were also given plenty of cosmetics, brushes, and other toiletry items.  Apparently, Sallah wanted his merchandise to always look attractive for the clients.  To spite him, none of the women wore any makeup, and they didn’t do anything that would make themselves more attractive.

In the bathroom, Angie looked at herself in the mirror.  This morning, after breakfast, the first step in their plan would be taken.  If this step didn’t work, then the entire plan could fail.  She knew that what they were going to do was dangerous.  She knew that someone could die, but the alternative was unthinkable.

It was around an hour after breakfast when Angie knocked urgently on the door.  A few seconds passed, then it was opened by one of the guards.

“One of the women is sick.  She needs some help,” Angie told him.

The man looked across the room at the partially closed bathroom door.  The sound of a woman vomiting could clearly be heard.  He spoke into his radio and was immediately answered.  The man strode across the room as the other guard stood watch just outside the doorway, his rifle held ready to fire.  Angie followed the man.  He cautiously pushed the door open to reveal Fatima sitting on the floor before the toilet.  Her face was white, and perspiration glistened on her forehead.  He spoke something to her in Arabic.  She replied, shaking her head.  Then she looked up at him and asked him something.  The man paused, then got on the radio again.  The person on the other end replied.  The guard leaned forward and helped Fatima to her feet.  As she leaned heavily upon him, he led her out of the building.  The door closed behind them.

A little over half an hour later, the Saudi woman was brought back in.  Her face had a little more color to it, though she was still weak.  Angie and Maria helped her over to their group of pillows.  As soon as she was settled, the Spanish girl ran to the pitcher to get some water.  Fatima accepted the water with a weak smile.

“Did it work?” Angie asked in a low voice.

“Yes.  It was just as you said it would be.  The other men came out of the buildings and watched for a while before going back in.”

The blonde nodded.  “I knew that they would suspect a trick or an escape attempt and want to make sure that everyone was on guard.  How many men did you see?”

“Six, not counting Sallah.  They were all armed with pistols and rifles.”

“Any automatic weapons?”

“No, not that I saw.” Fatima said.

“What about the jeeps?”

“There are three small vehicles and one large one that looked a little like a military troop transport.  They are all parked together in an open tent around thirty meters from this building.  There was one guard watching them.”

“Where’s Sallah’s office?” Angie asked.

“I saw him at the other end of the camp, in front of a tent that is standing alone from the others.”

Angie smiled at Fatima.  “You did great.  How do you feel?”

“Better than before.  You said that it would make me ill, but I did not think that I would be that ill.”

“I’m really sorry about that.  You’ll be all right in a couple of hours.”  The bathroom had been well-stocked with everything the women would or might need, including bathroom cleaners, soaps and shampoos, and a variety of medical supplies.  Using some of these things, Angie had mixed a concoction that would cause nausea and vomiting.  She would have taken the mixture herself, but she suspected that if it had been she who got sick, Sallah would not have allowed her to be taken outside “for air”.  Fatima had volunteered for the duty.

“Will we go soon?” the Saudi woman asked.

“This afternoon, I think.  We’ll have to move quickly if we’re going to overpower those guards.  After we’ve taken control, I’ll find out from Sallah what route they took to bring me here.”

“How will you make him tell you?”

Angie’s eyes narrowed, glittering with a dangerous light.  “Oh, I’ll make him tell me, don’t you worry.”

The Saudi woman looked at the expression on Angie’s face and shuddered.

The door opened to admit one of the guards.  He looked about at the women, then pointed to one of them.  “You.  Come with me.  You will be leaving.”

The woman, whose name was Theresa, stared at him in horror.  “No!  No, please.  Please don’t take me!” she pleaded in heavily accented English as she cowered back against the wall.

The man strode across the room and picked her up off the floor.  She screamed repeatedly as he dragged her toward the door.

A blinding rage flared up in Angie.  With a yell, she launched herself at the man, ignoring Fatima’s warning.  Her foot flew out and connected with his knee, then she brought the heel of her hand up into his nose.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her and lifted her up off the floor.  She struggled against them, but could not break their grip.  Angie heard Maria scream her name and saw the girl rush toward her.  Two of the other women caught and held her.

The first guard grabbed Theresa as the second one carried Angie outside.  They were taken in opposite directions.  Angie was carried to a small building.  She was dumped in the room and the door locked behind her.

Angie picked herself up off the floor and looked around.  The place appeared to be a medical treatment room of some kind.  There was a bed similar to what you would find in a doctor’s office, a small medicine cabinet, a metal table on wheels, and a chair.  Angie’s blood ran cold when she saw that there were restraining straps on the arms and legs of the chair.

The pain in Angie’s shoulder was burning terribly.  She was worried that more activity like this would tear open the stitches, amazed that it hadn’t already.  If that happened, someone would see the blood, and they’d find out about the wound.  Her eyes went to the medicine cabinet.  If she could get in it, there was a good chance that she’d find some kind of painkiller.  She looked over her shoulder at the camera mounted on the wall.  As long as it was watching her, it would be impossible for her to get into the cabinet undetected.  Something would just have to be done about that.

Angie began to pace the length of the floor, giving the impression of nervousness.  On her second trip to the front of the room, while she was out of the camera’s view, she slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a bobby pin.  She had stashed a few there the day before, thinking that they might come in handy if she had to pick a lock.

Still acting nervous and uptight, Angie turned around and went back across to the other side of the room.  She leaned forward against the medicine cabinet, resting her forehead on the glass, hugging herself.  To whomever was watching, it would, hopefully, look like the act was just another manifestation of her anxiety.

Quickly, Angie scanned the contents of the medicine cabinet.  After a few seconds, she spied vials labeled “morphine.”  She then saw a box of individually wrapped syringes.

Not wanting the person watching her to get suspicious, Angie walked away from the cabinet and started pacing again.  A couple more trips across the room, then she returned to the cabinet, this time leaning her shoulder against it, turning her body toward the cabinet enough so that the lock and what she was going to be doing would be hidden from the camera’s view.  Silently thanking Rollie for teaching her how to pick a lock, Angie got to work with the bobby pin.  A few seconds later, she was rewarded with success.  Now would come the tricky part.

Angie moved away from the cabinet, her demeanor changing.  She began to exhibit signs of anger.  Then, suddenly, she moved.

“You bastards!” she yelled as she grabbed the steel table, picked it up, and heaved it at the camera.  The table hit the camera squarely, wrenching it sideways.  To make sure that the camera was out of commission, Angie picked the table up off the floor, raised it over her head and smashed the camera again, giving a scream of rage as she did.  Knowing that had done the trick, Angie ran back over to the cabinet and snatched up the morphine and a syringe, shoving them into her pocket.  She’d just barely managed to close the cabinet door and get it locked when she heard the sound of the door across the room being unlocked.  Quickly moving away from the cabinet, Angie turned around and glared as a man walked in.  The guard glared back at her, saying something in Arabic that she guessed was not complimentary, then looked at the mess she’d made of the camera.  A second man came in behind him, training his weapon on Angie as the first man tried to fix the camera.  By the tone of the man’s voice as he talked to the other guard, the camera was apparently not repairable.  As the one guard remained in the room, the other left, shutting the door behind him.

Around ten minutes later, Sallah came in, along with two more guards and a woman.  Angie immediately recognized the woman as the one who had hit on Rollie in the hotel restaurant in Abha.  This, then, was Ivette.  Angie glared at her.

“How do you live with yourself, knowing that these men are selling women like animals?” the blonde asked.

“I live with myself very well, thank you,” the woman replied.  “And with a very healthy bank account.  What?  You think that because I am a woman I should automatically object to the enslavement and selling of other women?”  She shook her head.  “Tsk tsk.  Such naivety.  Just because they are the same sex as I am makes no difference to me.”

“Excuse me,” Angie said.  “I mistook you for a member of the human race.  I’m sorry.  I should have realized that you’re of the same lower form of life as these creatures you work with.” Angie’s voice was dripping with contempt.

Ivette quickly stepped forward, her hand raised to slap Angie.

“Ivette!” Sallah barked.  “You know the rules.  No physical damage.”

The woman lowered her hand, frowning.  She returned to Sallah’s side.  The Saudi man looked at Angie.

“Between you and that husband of yours, I am beginning to think that the money I am going to get for you is not worth the trouble you’ve caused.”  He looked over at the smashed camera.  “And now you’ve caused me even more trouble as well as costing me money.”  His gaze returned to Angie.  “Your husband has been taken care of, and I now think that you have to be taught that it is not wise to cause us trouble.”  He spoke in Arabic to the two guards.  The men stepped forward and grabbed Angie’s arms, forcing her to sit in the chair.  Her wrists and ankles were tied down.

Angie was getting scared.  What were they going to do to her?  With a feeling of dread, she watched as Ivette went to the medicine cabinet and removed a vial and a syringe from it.  She filled the syringe partway with the fluid in the vial.

“This, my dear Angela, is a very interesting little drug with a name that I won’t bother you with.  It causes absolutely no physical damage if given in the proper dosage.  However, it does cause excruciating pain.  The other ladies who were subjected to it found it quite . . . memorable.”

Terror gripped Angie as Ivette moved toward her, the syringe in her hand.  She began struggling against the bonds frantically.

“Hold her down,” Sallah ordered.  “She’ll bruise herself.”

The two men grasped her arms as Ivette brought the needle to Angie’s skin.

Angie’s fear rose to panic.  ‘Rollie, help me!’ her mind screamed in helpless terror.

“I have some good news,” Chuck’s voice said over the phone.  “We got something on that tooth we found.”

“On the DNA analysis?” Hashim asked.

“No, that didn’t help us, just as I figured.  It was the filling in the tooth.  According to the guys who examined it, it was a new filling, no more that a month or two old.”

“But, it is not common for dentists to use gold for fillings now.”

“Exactly.  Which means that all we have to do is find all the dentists in Riyadh and the surrounding area who still do and get a list of male patients who got a gold filling put in a bicuspid within the last two months.  We may still strike out, but it’s a start.”

“It will be easier for me to get that information than you,” the sheik said.  “I will have people start calling right away.”

“Um, has your mother learned anything new?” Chuck asked hesitantly.

“No.  She only says that her feelings that Rollie will die if he doesn’t get help are getting stronger.  She says that something is slowly killing him, but she does not know what.”

“Do you think she’s right?”

“Yes.  Yes, I do, and I fear that we do not have a lot of time left.”

Rollie could no longer manage the jog, and, sometimes, even the walking was almost too much for him.  He knew that he was severely dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke.  His throat felt like sandpaper and burned like fire.  He was light-headed, and he kept seeing things flickering at the edge of his vision, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there.  He wanted to lie down again and sleep, but he couldn’t.  Angie was in terrible danger.  If he didn’t help her, she was going to die.

The Aussie squinted through blurry eyes at the endless vista before him.  She was there ahead of him somewhere, but he didn’t know how far.  He feared that it was too far, that he wouldn’t reach her in time.  But he wasn’t going to give up.  One foot in front of the other.  That’s all he had to do, just put one foot in front of the other.

Rollie kept moving forward, no longer really thinking about what he was doing.  He slipped into the surface levels of the Dreamtime again, focusing his whole attention on Angie’s songline.  The minutes passed as the sun rose higher in the sky, bringing the temperature up with it.  He was going around another sand dune when he was struck with paralyzing suddenness by Angie’s fear.

‘Rollie, help me!’ he heard her scream through the Dreamtime.

‘Angie!’  He went to his knees, shaken by the force of her terror.  Angie needed him!  He had to help her!  Driven by an instinct that he did not understand, he collapsed onto the sand and fell the rest of the way into the Dreamtime.

Angie felt the prick of the needle as it entered her skin.  In the same moment, she abruptly saw Rollie standing before her.

‘Angie, come with me!  Hurry!’ he cried, holding his hand out to her.

Not questioning him, Angie took his hand and followed him.

Ivette placed her thumb on the plunger and was just starting to apply pressure when Angie suddenly went limp.

“What happened?” Sallah asked.

Ivette looked down at the blonde and withdrew the needle.  “She fainted.”  She snorted in contempt.  “I thought she was tougher than that.”  Then she looked more closely at the blonde.  Something wasn’t right.  Her respiration was way too slow and shallow.  Ivette felt her pulse.  It, too, was very slow.

Sallah noticed the look on Ivette’s face.  “What is it?”

“I don’t know.  Something’s wrong with her.”  The woman lifted Angie’s eyelids.  The eyes looked glazed, almost as if she had been drugged.  The pupils reacted to the light, but sluggishly.  “I don’t know what to do.  I’m not a doctor.”

“I do not want to lose her, Ivette.  The client will pay a great deal for her.  She is exactly what he is looking for.”  There was a dangerous tone in Sallah’s voice.

Suddenly afraid for her own safety, Ivette ordered the guards to unstrap Angie and carry her to the building where new arrivals were put.  The blonde was laid on the cot.  Not willing to stay herself, Ivette told a guard to fetch one of the other women to tend to Angie.  A short time later, he returned with a girl who looked to be of Spanish descent.  The girl paled when she saw Angie lying unconscious on the cot.

“I want you to watch over her,” Ivette ordered.  “If she dies, it will go hard on you.”

The girl looked at her blankly.  The woman sighed and haltingly repeated in Spanish what she’d said.  The girl nodded and sat at Angie’s side.  The other guard came back with a basin of water and a cloth, which he sat beside the girl.  They all left then, leaving the girl alone with the blonde.

“Angie?  Oh, Angie, what did they do to you?” Maria cried.  She took Angie’s limp hand in hers.  “Please don’t die.  Please.”

Angie clung to Rollie with all her strength, her face pressed against his chest.  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered.

“I’m not, Ange, not where you really are.”

Angie lifted her head and opened her eyes.  “What do you mean you’re not. . . .”  Her mouth dropped open as she saw the scenery around them.  This wasn’t Saudi Arabia.  It looked like. . . .  No.  That was impossible.  “Where are we?”

“We’re in the Dreamtime, Ange.”

“The Dreamtime?  But how?”

“I brought you here,” Rollie told her, stroking her hair.

Angie stared at him in shock.  “You can do that?”

“I guess so.  Mangela told me that if two people walk the same songline, they can sometimes journey through the Dreamtime together and share the same Dreaming.”

“Does that mean that I’ll see what you see?  I’ll see things that are going to happen in the future?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t think so.  I think that we’re kind of in limbo here.”

“I want to stay with you, Rol.”

“You can’t, Angie.  We can’t stay here.  We have to go back.  I don’t know how much longer I can keep us here anyway.”  Even as he spoke, the Australian outback began to fade.  That’s when Angie felt Rollie’s weakness, and it hit her that, though his consciousness might be here, his body was still out in the Saudi desert, dying from the heat and lack of water.

“We’re going to escape, Rollie.  There are other women with me, and we’re planning on escaping this afternoon.  I can find you then.”

“No, Ange.  You mustn’t try today.  If you do, you’ll die.  I had another Dreaming.  Either there are more men than you think that there are or there are more coming.  I don’t know which.  I only know that if you try an escape, it will fail and you will die.”

“But, if I don’t get out, you’ll die.”

“Don’t worry about me, Angel,” Rollie said with a faint smile.  “I’ll be all right.  You have to wait.  Please tell me that you will.”

Angie gazed into his eyes.  “All right.  I’ll wait until I know that it’s safe to move,” she promised, praying that she hadn’t just condemned Rollie to death.  The newlyweds embraced tightly.  “Promise that you won’t leave me, Rollie.”

“I promise, Ange.  No matter what happens, I will always be with you.”

Filled with a sudden fear over what Rollie could mean by those words, Angie tried to hold onto him, but both he and the world around them were fading away.

“I love you,” she heard him whisper, then that, too, was gone.

Angie opened her eyes.  The first thing she saw was Maria’s tear-streaked face.

“I thought you were dying.”  The girl’s voice was trembling.

“I’m okay, Maria.”  Angie glanced around and realized that they were in the room that she had first been taken to when she arrived.  “What are we doing here?”

“One of the men came and said that you were ill and needed to be looked after.  Fatima wanted to go, but she was still too sick, so I came.  Angie, what did they do to you?  Did they hurt you?”

“No, they didn’t hurt me.  They were going to, but. . . .”  Angie let her sentence go unfinished.  She didn’t know if it was safe to talk there.  She glanced around and spied the hidden camera.  Looking straight into the lens, she said, “You can return us to the others now.  I’m not going to die on you.”

It took about four minutes for the door to open.  Sallah and Ivette came in, followed by a guard.

“If I had known that your health was so fragile, dear Angela, I would have been more gentle,” Ivette purred nastily.

Angie smiled acidly.  “It’s nothing to worry about, dear Ivette.  These attacks only come upon me when I’m in the presence of emotionally-vacuous, bloodsucking leeches.  As long as I stay away from you, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

The woman’s face turned an ugly shade of red.   Her hands clenched into fists.

“If I had known that there was a problem with your health, I would not have chosen you,” Sallah said.  “But, since you are already here and the client has been told about you, we will just not speak of this.  And I would advise you not to say anything to him either when he comes to get you.  If you ruin the sale, I may decide to cut my losses and simply get rid of you.”  Sallah turned to the guard.  “Take them back to the others.”

Angie and Maria were taken back to the “harem”, as one of the women had called them.  The women gathered around Angie, asking if she was all right.  She assured them that she was.  Fatima had come up as well and had taken Angie’s hands.

“I was so worried about you,” she said.  “I feared that they were going to do to you what they did to the others.”

“They were.”  Angie glanced at the camera to her left.  “Let’s go sit down.”

They went to their pile of cushions in the far corner.

“What happened?” Fatima asked.

Angie told them about the building she was taken to.  “Sallah and a woman named Ivette who works for him came in.  They told me that they were going to teach me a lesson.  They tied me to the chair and were going to inject me with a drug that causes severe pain.”

“Why didn’t they?  What happened?” Maria asked once Angie had repeated her words in Spanish.

A smile came to Angie’s lips.  “Rollie saved me.”

Maria’s eyes lit up with excitement.  “Rollie is here?”

“No.  He’s still out in the desert somewhere.”

“I do not understand,” Fatima said.

“There’s something about Rollie that I didn’t tell you before.  He’s special.  There are things he can do that . . . well, it’s hard to explain.”  She told them about the Dreamtime and the Dreaming, trying to explain it as best as she could.  By the time she was finished, Fatima’s and Maria’s mouths were hanging open.

“He actually brought you into this Dreamtime with him?” the Saudi woman asked.

Angie nodded.  “It was quite an experience.”

“Then Rollie is still alive,” Maria said.

“Yes, but he’s very weak.  I don’t know how much longer he’s going to make it.”

“Are we still going to go through with our plan?” Fatima asked.

“Before we separated, Rollie warned me not to do it, not today.  He said that either there are other men here that we don’t know about or that they are coming soon.”

“Do you think that he is right?”

“Yes.  He’s never been wrong before.  His Dreaming warned us about Silent Lion.  It warned us about Sallah too, but we were caught anyway.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Maria asked.

“We’ll wait and see what happens.”  Angie bit her lip as a sudden movement of her shoulder brought back the pain.

“What is wrong?” Fatima asked in concern.

“I . . . I need you to help me in the bathroom,” Angie replied.

The two women went into the bathroom.  Angie asked the Saudi woman to help her get her dress off.  Fatima gasped when she saw the wound in Angie’s shoulder.

“How did this happen?” she asked.

“One of the extremists I told you about tried to kill me.  He stabbed me.”

“Angie, you need to tell them about this.  It is bleeding.”

“Damn,” Angie cursed softly.  “That’s what I was afraid of.  Some of the stitches must have pulled free.”

“I will go to the door and call for help immediately,” Fatima told her.

“No.  What if they decide that they can’t sell me if I’m injured?  You and I both know what they’ll do.”

The Saudi woman paused.  “They might just tell you to be quiet about it, not let the buyer know.”

Angie shook her head.  “And what if the buyer wants to . . . take a better look at me?”

Fatima paled at the thought of being forced to strip naked before a man.  She nodded.  “You are right.  But you are in pain, and we need to stop the bleeding.”

“How bad is the bleeding?”

“Not bad.  There is only a little blood.”

“Good.  It’ll stop on its own eventually.  We can just put a bandage on it.  As for the pain. . . .”  Angie reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the vial of morphine and the syringe that she’d stolen from the medicine cabinet.  “I ‘borrowed’ these from Sallah.”

Fatima took the vial of painkiller.  “Do you know how much of this to take?”

“Afraid not.  I don’t know anything about morphine except that it can become addictive.  All we can do is give me just a tiny bit and see if it’s enough.  If not, then you can give me more.”

Fatima got a nervous look on her face. “Me?  I do not know if I could do it.”  Her expression changed to embarrassment.  “I am . . . I am afraid of needles.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed.  Lots of people are.  I’ve seen big, macho guys cringe and cower like a scared rabbit at the sight of a hypodermic.”

The Saudi woman smiled at the comment.  “Was--  Is your husband afraid of needles?”

Choosing to ignore Fatima’s slip of the tongue in almost using the past tense, Angie smiled and shook her head.  “No.  And considering how many times he’s had to become acquainted with needles, it’s a good thing he isn’t.”

Angie studied the woman’s expression, able to tell that she was still nervous about giving the injection.  “I can have one of the other girls do it,” she said quietly.

Fatima’s shoulders straightened.  “No.  I will do it.  This is not the time for petty fears.”

Using an antiseptic swab from the first aid kit, Fatima injected a small dose of morphine into Angie, trying not to let her hand shake as she did so.  Once she was finished, Angie cleaned the needle with another swab, then replaced the cap over it.  She only had the one hypodermic, so there was no choice but to use it again.

“You did good, Fatima,” Angie said.

“Thank you.”  She gazed into Angie’s eyes.  “You are so courageous.  I have never seen a woman who was so brave.”

“I’m really not all that brave, no more than a lot of other women.  When Ivette came at me with that syringe full of that chemical, I was scared out of my mind.”

“Who would not be?  You are still a woman to be admired.  If we lived in the same country, I think that we would be good friends.”

Angie smiled and hugged the Saudi woman.  “I think so, too.  And, once we get out of here, we still can be.”

“I look forward to that.”

Rollie rose shakily to his knees.  He looked at the palms of his hands.  They would have been burned from the heat of the sand if it had not been for the fact that he was in shade.  That shade felt so good.  He wished that he could lay back down in it and sleep forever.  Instead, he got to his feet.  He stood swaying for a few seconds, then walked forward out of the shade and into the heat.

The Aussie didn’t think about what he had just done.  It didn’t matter how he had done it.  All that mattered was that, for the moment, Angie was not in danger.

He had promised that he would not leave her, but he knew that there was a good chance he would not be able to keep that promise, not in the way that she wanted him to.  He was dying, and he didn’t have much time left.

Rollie was surprised to find that he wasn’t afraid of dying, not for himself.  He was afraid for Angie, what it would do to her.  She would be alone.  The thought of Angie being alone with no family left made him fight against what now seemed inevitable.  He couldn’t leave her alone.  He had to make good on his promise.

The endless day dragged by, his third day in this seemingly lifeless wasteland.  How could anything survive here?  Yet it did.  Life existed, even in this world of scorching sand.  That thought helped to firm his determination.  If other living things could survive here, then he could, too.  Rollie knew that his logic was flawed, that the animals and insects who lived here were able to survive only because they were adapted to these conditions.  But it was all that he had left to cling to, that and Angie--and what he was going to do to Sallah when he got his hands on him.

The sun had passed its highest point and was heading downward into afternoon.  The heat was beyond belief.  It shimmered in waves above the sand, making objects on the horizon look like they were moving.  Sometimes, it looked as if there was a great lake before him, stretching to infinity, but the lake never got closer and, in the end, it always dried up into the heat that had given birth to it.

It was well into the afternoon when Rollie forced himself to accept that he had to rest.  Finding some shade, he collapsed onto the sand, wondering if he would ever wake up again.

“We’ve got him!” Chuck said excitedly as Hashim picked up the phone.

“You found out which man the tooth belonged to?”

“We sure did.  We hit pay dirt with that list you got of the dentists’ patients.  His name is Hakeem Abdullah.  He has a record, an assault charge from about four years ago, but nothing since then.”

“Are you certain it is him?” the sheik asked.

“Without a doubt.  We got his dental x-rays, scanned them, and sent the digital files to the States.  They matched the tooth they had with the x-rays.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I’m afraid not,” Chuck admitted.  “We talked to his neighbors, and they said that he is seldom home.  None of them know what he does for a living, and we can’t find any employment records more recent than two and a half years ago.  But get this.  Whatever it is that he is doing for a living, it must be paying very well.  You should see his house.  Definitely upscale.  He bought the house just under eighteen months ago.”

“It sounds as if this man got involved with something very lucrative around two and a half years ago.”

“And probably also very illegal.  It gets better, though.  One of Abdullah’s neighbors remembered seeing a man visiting him on several occasions.  The only reason why he remembered the visitor is because of the way that the neighbor caught the man looking at his daughter once, like he was appraising her.  We sent a sketch artist over to the neighbor to make a drawing of the visitor.  From that, we were able to I.D. him as a man named Ahmed Sallah.  Sallah has a record too, for smuggling.  What’s really interesting is that he also appears to have been unemployed for a while now, about three years, and is in even better financial shape than Abdullah.”

“Ahmed Sallah.  That name sounds familiar,” Hashim said thoughtfully.  “I remember now.  Angela mentioned that she and Rollie encountered a man by that name when they were in Riyadh the day after they arrived here.  She said that something about the man made Rollie nervous.”

“Then that’s our connection,” Chuck said excitedly.  “They must be the ones who took Rollie and Angie.  The question is why?”

“Could it be that they witnessed a crime and did not realize it?”

“That’s a good idea.  If that’s the case, it was probably Angie who witnessed it since she seems to have been the original target for the kidnapping.  We’re getting closer, Hashim.”

“Yes, but will we get close enough?”

Through the door, Angie heard two vehicles pull up.  She then heard the voices of at least eight different men talking with Sallah.

‘Rollie was right,’ Angie thought.  If they had gone through with their plans today, they would have been making their break just about now and would have been greeted by over twice as many men as they had been prepared for.  The escape would have failed.  Rollie had saved her yet again.  She just hoped that she could save him.

Another woman took her place at the door as Angie went to tell Fatima and Maria what was happening.

“We’ll have to wait until they leave,” she told them.

“What if they don’t leave?” the Spanish girl asked.

Angie paused.  What if they didn’t leave?  Or what if they were here for two or three days?  Rollie wouldn’t live that long.  For all she knew, he might already be dead.  No!  He wasn’t dead.  She would know it if he was.  She would feel it.

The door opened, letting in one of the women of their ‘harem’.  She had been taken half an hour ago to be ‘displayed’ to a potential buyer.  Angie immediately went to her.

“Are you all right, Erica?” Angie asked the English girl.

The woman nodded, though there were tears in her eyes.  “I felt like I was a prize mare being shown off to a buyer.  They made me . . . they made me take my clothes off.”  A tiny sob escaped her lips.  “I’ve never felt so degraded or humiliated in my life.”

Angie held her, hatred for Sallah and all those who worked with him burning even brighter inside her.  “Is he . . . going to take you?”

“No.  I’m not what he wants.  My breasts are too small, and my hips are too narrow.”  Erica smiled through her tears.  “I never thought that I would actually be happy that I have small breasts.”  She abruptly took Angie’s hands and looked into her eyes.  “Angie, I have to tell you.  When we were walking past Sallah and those other men who just arrived, I heard them talking.”  Her grip on Angie’s hands tightened.  “The man who’s going to buy you has arrived.”
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE -- NO MORE TIME

Angie stared at Erica.  ‘No!  This can’t happen!  If he takes me, Rollie will die.’  She didn’t think about what this meant for her personally.  All she could think about was that there would be no one to save Rollie.

“He’s here now?” she asked.

“No.  He arrived in Riyadh an hour ago.  Sallah said something about the man having business to attend to first.  From what I understood, he won’t be coming today.”

“Then we have a little more time.”  Angie turned to find Fatima right behind her.  The Saudi woman’s eyes were full of worry.  They went back over to their usual spot.  Angie told Maria what Erica had said.

“We’ll have to make our break tomorrow,” Angie told them.  “I just hope that these new arrivals are gone by tomorrow morning.”  She turned to Fatima.  “If this guy takes me before we can escape, I want you to go through with it anyway.  You and the others must get out of here.”

“But, Angie, I would not know what to do,” Fatima said.  “I am afraid that I would fail.”

“You won’t fail.  You know the plan as well as I do.  You can make it, Fatima.  You have to try.”  She took the woman’s hand.  “Please.  You have to find Rollie.  Please say that you will.”

The Saudi woman met her gaze.  “I promise that I will try, Angie.  I give you my word.”

“Thank you.”

As the afternoon moved toward evening with the new arrivals showing no signs of leaving, Angie began to grow worried.  But then she realized that they probably didn’t want to cross the desert in the dark.  Hopefully, they would leave in the morning.

As she lay on her bed of pillows that night, Angie began to think about her own situation.  What would she do if the man who was going to buy her came to pick her up?  Angie had already gone through the pain of rape.  The thought of it happening again was unbearable.  But, if Rollie lived, she would do anything she had to in order to survive so that she could see him again.  And if he died?  Angie’s will hardened.  She knew what she would do then.  Sallah’s client would rue the day he laid eyes on her, and, if she was lucky, so would Ahmed Sallah.

It was night again.  Rollie did not know how long it had been so.  He had no memory of the sun going down.  It had seemed as if one moment it was day and the next, night.  Though the night was cool, he still felt hot.  The heat was from within his body, burning like a furnace.  The only relief that the night brought him was the relief to his burning eyes, throat, and lungs.  He could breathe without it feeling like he was inhaling daggers.

Rollie’s thoughts were disconnected, jumbled.  He was barely aware of the fact that, somehow, he was still walking.  The only thing that remained pure and clear to him was Angie’s songline.  It was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind.

Rollie heard voices echoing in the night, voices of people he knew or had known.  He kept looking for them, trying to see where they were, but they kept moving about, flitting here and there.  Sometimes, he actually saw the person who was speaking, but when he reached out for them, they would vanish.  Some part of his brain knew that what he was seeing and hearing were just illusions, but he didn’t care anymore.  At least they were company.

“Rollie, my boy, you’ve gotten yourself into quite the spot there, haven’t you,” Dingo said.  Rollie saw his father’s face before him.  “You get into more trouble than I do, and that’s going some.”

‘And at least when I get into trouble, it’s because I’m helping people,’ Rollie told his father silently, his raw, parched throat no longer having the power to speak.

“Yes, you are always helping, aren’t you,” said the voice of Rick Forsythe.  “Too bad you couldn’t help me.”

‘I couldn’t save you, Rick.  I would have done anything to save you.  I loved you.  You were my mate.’

“Yeah, we were good buds, weren’t we.  But now I’m dead, and you soon will be.  Maybe we can toss down a few when you get up here, eh?”  The stuntman laughed.

“Ignore him, Rollie,” said Leo McCarthy.  “You’re not going to die.  You’re too damn stubborn to die.  But then, I never thought that I’d die either, at least not for a long time yet.”

‘I’m sorry, Leo.  If I had known that there was a bomb in that warehouse, I could have saved you.  I am so sorry.’

“Don’t sweat it, pal.  Nobody knows everything, and nobody is perfect.”

“Listen to what he says, Rollie,” Frank Gatti said.  “You can’t keep blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens.”

‘Even when it’s my fault?  I wouldn’t be here and Angie wouldn’t be in the hands of Ahmed Sallah if I had done things differently, if I had been able to figure out what the Dreaming meant.’

“What did I tell you when you were a child, Rollie?” came the voice of Mangela.  “What the Dreaming shows us is not always within our power to understand.  That is true for everyone who walks in the Dreamtime.”

‘But I should have been able to figure it out.  If you had been here, you would have.’

“No, I wouldn’t, Rollie.  It would not have been within my power.  What is happening now is not your fault, just like your mother’s death was not.  You must let go of the guilt.”

“He’s right, Rollie.  Stop feeling guilty,” Mira told him.  “You know, all this talk of Dreaming and the Dreamtime is too far out for me.  You didn’t used to talk like this, Rollie.  You’ve changed a lot since you were shot.”

‘Well, dying can change a person,’ Rollie pointed out. ‘I guess I’m really going to find out what it’s like to die now.’

“You can’t die, Rollie.  You can’t leave my little girl alone.”

Rollie turned to look at Manny Ramirez.  ‘I’m sorry, Manny.  I didn’t want this to happen.  I don’t want to leave Angie alone.  I love her.’

“I know you do, Rollie.  You’ve always loved her, and she has always loved you.  You were meant to be together.  You have to hang on, Rollie.  You promised her that you wouldn’t leave.”

‘I’m sorry, Manny.  I’m so sorry.  Please tell Angie that I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.’

“No, Rollie, you will not break that promise.  You are not going to die,” said a voice that tugged at Rollie’s memory.  He turned to see a beautiful woman with auburn hair and deep brown eyes.

‘Mum?’

“Oh, my sweet boy.  Look at what they’ve done to you.”

‘I’ve missed you, Mumma.  I’ve missed you so much.  Why did you have to leave me?’  Rollie was beginning to cry.

“Oh, my poor, beautiful little boy.  I didn’t want to leave you.  I tried so hard not to, but I couldn’t hold on.  It wasn’t your fault, Rollie.  It was nobody’s fault.  It just happened.”

‘I’ll be seeing you soon, though, Mumma.’

“No!  You must not give up, Rollie.  You have never given up in your life, not when it mattered, and you are not going to start now.  You’re strong, stronger than your father or I ever were.  I am so very proud of you, sweetheart.  No mother could be prouder.  You have to live, Rollie.  You have to fight.  There are people who need you.  Angie needs you.  You have to fight for her.  You can’t give up.”

The determination that had all but died in Rollie returned, growing strong and steady.  ‘I won’t give up, Mumma.  I’ll fight.  I’ll fight for Angie.’

All the images and voices faded away, leaving Rollie once again alone.

“I won’t give up, Angie,” he whispered.

Angie awoke with a terrible feeling of anxiety.  She had dreamt of Rollie again, but this time he had not spoken to her.  He had just looked at her sadly, an apology in his eyes.

The other women were all still asleep.  Deciding to go ahead and get up, Angie silently made her way through the darkness to the bathroom.  She waited to turn on the light until after the door was closed.  As she stood before the sink, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light, she wondered what the day was going to bring.  She had decided that they would wait to make their move until an hour after the other men left.  Sound carried a long way in the desert, and she wanted to be sure that they would not hear any gunshots.  She fervently hoped that there wouldn’t be any gunshots to hear.  If the guards opened fire, a lot of women could die.

For a moment, Angie wished that there was someone who could take her place in leading this escape.  The lives of all these women were in her hands.  If everything didn’t go exactly as planned, it could be a catastrophe.  But she knew that she could not back out and let someone else take over.  Angie smiled faintly, thinking about how many times Rollie had made the same choice.  The Aussie was definitely rubbing off on her.

After finishing in the bathroom, Angie went back to her bed.  She sat in the darkness and waited for the others to get up.  She did not wait long.

The women were quiet that morning.  They all knew that this was the day that would decide their fate.  But, as the morning wore on and there was no indication that the men who came yesterday were going to leave, Angie began to fear that it was not going to happen, and with that fear came the certainty that, if it didn’t, Rollie would die.

Angie clung with desperate strength to her hope, but as the hours passed, that hope grew weaker and weaker.  They weren’t going to leave.  With that thought, Angie could have sworn that she heard a death knell.

Fatima sat beside her.  “Are you all right, Angie?”

The blonde began to nod, then paused.  “No, I’m not all right.  I’m scared, Fatima.  They still haven’t left.  What if they don’t leave?  What if. . . .”  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then turned her gaze to the Saudi woman.  “He’s going to die, Fatima.  I won’t be able to help him, and he’s going to die.  He’s saved me so many times, but I can’t save him.  I’m failing him.”  The last words were spoken on a sob.

Fatima took hold of her hands and held them tightly.  “Angie, you are not failing him.  Do not think that.  This is not your fault.  You have to be strong.  We need you.  We could not have done this without you, and I do not think that we will succeed if you are not with us.”

“You may have to.  The buyer for me could be here at any moment.”

“Then we will make our break before he can take you.”

“No.  It would be suicide to try it with all these extra men here.  You can’t ruin the chance that the rest of you have just to save me.”

“Angie, we would not have had a chance if it had not been for you.”

The blonde shook her head.  “No, Fatima.  I want you to swear that you will not try the escape until it’s clear, no matter what.”

“No, Angie.  I will not swear that.  But . . . I will promise that I will not do anything foolish that will threaten the lives of the others.”

The eyes of the two women locked.  Finally, Angie nodded.  “Fair enough.”

Hashim could tell by the look on his face that Chuck had serious news--and by the fact that the American had actually flown out there in a plane belonging to the government agency he was connected to.  The sheik led him to the sitting room.  They were shortly joined by Kamilah.

“We’ve done some digging into Sallah’s background and known associates.  I have to tell you that I don’t like what I’ve found out.  It seems that Sallah was still carrying on his smuggling activities until about three years ago.  Then he just stopped.  One of his former partners, who is in prison now, told me that Sallah had said he’d found much more profitable merchandise to deal in.”

“More profitable?  Do you think he was talking about drugs?”

“That’s what I thought at first, but then I found out some other things.  Around two months before Sallah made his sudden career change, he had a visit from his uncle.  Normally, I wouldn’t have thought much about that, but then I did some digging.”  The lieutenant paused.

“What?  What did you find out?”

“I learned that his uncle was suspected of being involved in white slavery.”

Both Hashim and Kamilah paled.  “White slavery?”  There was horror in the sheik’s voice.  “And you think that. . . .”

“I think that he brought Sallah into his business.  He died about two years ago, and I think that Sallah then took complete control of the operation.”

“Angela,” Kamilah murmured, her face even paler.  “He wanted Angela.”

“I’m afraid that’s probably the case,” Chuck admitted.

Hashim, feeling like he was going to be ill, abruptly stood up.  He let loose a curse.  “If this is so, then she may already be gone.  And what of Rollie?”

“He would have no use for Rollie.  If he’s the kind of man I think he is, then. . . .”  Chuck did not finish the sentence.  He didn’t have to.

“No,” Kamilah said.  “He is not dead.  I know he is not dead.  Last night I dreamt that he was lost in a great empty place with mountains that move.”

“Mountains that move?” Chuck repeated.

“I do not understand it either,” Hashim admitted.  “I have been thinking about it since she told me.”

“All right, let’s look at this in a different way.  If Sallah is kidnapping and selling women, he would have to have someplace to keep them, right?  It would have to be someplace fairly large, where he could house them until the buyers took them, but also someplace secluded, where he wouldn’t have to worry about the women screaming and attracting attention.  He would have to have a lot of security, men to make sure