Shaken by the Sheik
By:AliasCWN
Chapter 7
"Captain, there is an Arab here to see you Sir."
Captain Boggs looked up as his aide stuck his head in the door to announce a visitor. The Captain nodded, pushing his reports aside, rising to welcome his guest. He expected Omar, the only Arab who had gone out of his way to speak to the Americans since the 'incident' had occurred. The Arab who stepped into his office was a complete stranger.
"May I help you?" The Captain assumed that his visitor spoke English since he had managed to ask to see him. The Arab bowed respectfully and turned and closed the door.
"I come from Sheik Bal al Hassim." He announced solemnly. "The Sheik has a request."
"I have one of my own." The Captain replied. "Where are my privates?"
"Safe for now." The Arab replied. "The Sheik has still not completed his search for those responsible for the attack on his family."
"Those two didn't attack his family." Boggs declared confidently. "All they did was try to help."
The Arab bowed his head. "That is what they have told the Sheik." He confirmed.
"But he doesn't believe them?"
"He still has questions." The visitor replied. "That is why I am here. If you truly want to help your men, you will help the Sheik to learn the truth."
"All right." Boggs nodded. "I'm not afraid of the truth. What is it that the Sheik wants?"
"A knife?"
"A knife?"
"One of your men took it from one of the four men they say they fought in the alley. He claims that it was taken from him when he was taken prisoner."
You mean when he was arrested?" Boggs asked for clarification.
"Yes."
The Captain walked to the door and sent his aide to talk to the MPs at the stockade. He gave him written orders to return with the knife. Ten minutes later the Arab left the base with a cloth wrapped object tucked into his tunic. The Captain watched him leave, hoping he hadn't just provided the evidence that would get his men killed. As soon as the Arab passed from sight the officer sat down to write out a report on the incident. Slipping it into a manila envelope, he sealed it and sent it to Colonel Quint. With the two men from the State Department still haunting the base, he decided that it was prudent to cover his actions with full disclosure.
The men from the State Department were furious that they hadn't been told about the knife before it had been handed over. Colonel Quint backed Captain Boggs, declaring it a matter for the base commanders to decide. The Captain walked away feeling uneasy but vindicated; as long as Colonel Quint supported him he felt fairly safe from prosecution. He wished that he could have done the same for Troy's men.
Tully awoke to the sounds of horses moving about. He'd barely finished his breakfast before the guards arrived to get him. He was given a loose robe to wear over his uniform and once again tied to the saddle. Thus began another long day of riding. This time as he approached the camp he was able to recognize some of the tents; his captors had returned him to the camp where they had answered questions for the Sheik. There were more people there now, all men, no women. The lack of women alarmed Tully, giving the impression of being more of a military base than a home. As he slid from his horse he staggered on numb legs, nearly falling to the ground. One of the massive guards was there to catch him, supporting him until he could stand by himself. Tully looked up in surprise at the gentle way the huge man held his arm. The guard guided him to the tent he had previously occupied and the chains were removed. He was no sooner in the tent than food and water was delivered by a male servant. It would have been almost pleasant after the last few days except for one thing, Hitch was nowhere to be seen.
Blankets and pillows were delivered so Tully could sleep in comfort. He wasn't bound as night fell, watched only by a single guard who stood outside his door. He thought about trying to escape but he had no idea where he was, and he had no doubt that the Sheik had more than enough men to hunt him down before he got very far. He settled down to wait, hoping that Hitch was enjoying the same comforts, wherever he was sleeping.
Hitch spent the day traveling too, but his travels took him deeper into the desert. He found himself in a permanent village as night fell. His guards locked him in a windowless room with only a single candle for light. His heart sank as he heard the heavy bar drop across the door. He couldn't help but think of Tully, wondering where he was and if he was okay.
After a restless night and a long, slow day, Hitch heard the bar being lifted on his door. He stood to face the door, certain that this was the day that he would learn his fate.
Two guards led him across the village to a sturdy little stone house that stood in the center of the other buildings. The villagers watched his passing with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. All talk ceased as he made his way to the house, his guards watching both him and the bystanders.
He was led into a room where a group of elders sat in a semi-circle around the walls. It reminded Hitch of the council that he had faced earlier. His eyes fell on the man who was obviously the leader. His guards bowed deeply to the frail looking man with what looked like genuine respect. Taking his cue from them, Hitch bowed deeply too.
The old Arab watched him through eyes that had seen much in their years on the desert. He nodded at the show of respect, giving his approval. He locked his eyes on Hitch until Hitch fidgeted nervously. A smile came to his eyes then and he motioned for the guards to move back by the door.
"So you are the one who accuses my son of murder?" The English words sounded strange coming from the old man's lips.
Hitch stared in surprise at the old Arab.
"You are surprised that I speak your language?" The old man smiled.
"Yeah, kind of." Hitch stammered. "But I don't know what you're talking about; I never accused anyone of murder."
"Did you not say that you fought with the men who pushed the Sheik's family into the alley?" The old man watched his reaction closely.
"Yes Sir." Hitch admitted.
"And you claim that they are the ones who murdered his family?"
"I guess so." Hitch hesitated to agree. "At least that's what everyone told us. We never actually went into the market so we didn't see any of that. We only know for sure what happened in the alley."
The old man watched his eyes as he answered. An interpreter translated in the background for the other leaders to hear.
"Tell me from the beginning what happened in that alley."
So Hitch repeated his story again, pausing to answer questions as he did.
"This knife, would you recognize it if you saw it again?"
"Yes Sir." Hitch answered. "It was kind of unique…..and it had a distinctive nick in the blade; a jagged notch near the tip of the blade."
The old man reached down by his side and picked up a knife from the cushion by his leg. Holding it out for Hitch to see, he asked, "Is this the knife?"
Hitch took a step forward and studied the knife carefully. "No. It looks a lot like it but it's not the same one."
"How is it different?"
Hitch looked at the blade again. "The scroll work is more delicate and the blade is thinner." He answered after considering it carefully.
The old man nodded and held up a second knife. "And this one?"
Hitch took another look but this time he nodded. "That's it, but how did you get it? The last time I saw it the MPs had it."
The old man looked down at the knife without answering. He lifted his eyes and looked around the room as the translator finished translating what had been said. His eyes met the gaze of each man as he looked around the small room. As their eyes met each man gave a curt nod. The old man seemed to shrink a little more with each nod. When he had gone all of the way around the circle he drew himself to his full height and called to someone outside of the door.
There was a short wait before the guards stepped aside to allow a man to step into the room. The man was laughing as he walked into the room but he stopped abruptly when he spotted Hitch. His eyes widened as he recognized the American soldier. The old man noted the recognition with sad eyes,
"Do you know this man?" The old man asked Hitch.
Hitch turned for a better look, studying the slight man before him. There was something about his eyes that looked familiar but Hitch couldn't place him. Finally he shook his head. "I don't think so Sir."
"He does not look familiar?"
Hitch shook his head. "There is something about his eyes…but I'm pretty sure that I never saw his face before. I'm sorry, should I know him?"
"No, there is no reason for you to know him." The old man answered. "He is my son, the younger brother of Sheik Bal al Hassim."
Hitch turned, realizing that he had not shown nearly enough respect for the frail old man. "I'm sorry Sir; I didn't realize who you were."
"There was no reason for you to know me either." The old man assured him. "Leave us now; I have important business to discuss with my son."
Hitch bowed again, deeper this time, and allowed the guards to lead him from the building. They escorted him back to the windowless room and locked him in. As he went over what had happened, the pieces began to fall into place. With a sense of dread he realized why the eyes of the old man's son had seemed familiar; he had seen them before, over the cloth that covered the face of the fourth assailant in the alley. He had suggested that the man was a murderer in a roundabout way. After all, he had implied that the man with his face covered in the alley had been involved in the murders in the market. Slapping himself in the head, he wondered when he was going to learn to think before he opened his mouth.
He was sitting in the corner waiting when the guards opened the door next. To his surprise, they delivered food and water and left him alone. As he looked at the assortment of food, he couldn't help but wonder if it was his last meal. The very thought seemed to suck the flavor from the various dishes. Any other time he would have savored the exotic flavors, a welcome change from the k-rations or mess hall food, now he could barely get it down. When they came for the dishes most of the food was still untouched.
The next day was another long series of waits between food deliveries. He was relieved to know that they didn't plan on starving him to death, but the waiting was brutal. He would have preferred that they tell him what they had planned rather than keep him in suspense.
His third day proved to be the charm. After breakfast the guards returned to escort him from his prison. He expected to see the old man again but instead he was put on a horse and once again carted across the desert. Since none of his guards spoke English, he was left to figure things out for himself. Blessed, or cursed, with a vivid imagination, he was a bundle of nerves by the time they stopped for the night. He barely slept that night and spent most of the following day dozing in the saddle.
When they stopped he barely registered the fact that they were no longer moving. Two burly guards pulled him from his horse and carried him into a tent. He was asleep before his head touched the pillows.
When he finally opened his eyes he found himself sprawled across a pile of very comfortable pillows. The tent overhead let enough light through to hurt his eyes. He groaned and covered his face.
"Hey, are you awake?"
"Tully?"
"Yeah, it's me. What happened to you? You've been gone for nearly five days?"
"It's a long story but I think I messed up again."
Tully groaned at the statement. "I was just starting to think that we might just manage to survive this."
"Sorry." Hitch apologized. "Remember that guy I took the knife off of?"
"The one with his face hidden? Yeah, I remember him."
"Well it turns out that he's the Sheik's brother. I met his father. And I as good as accused the brother of murder." Hitch admitted with a groan.
"Did he do it?"
"I think so." Hitch sat up to face Tully. "But I don't think that we can prove it and the Sheik isn't going to be happy that I accused him."
"This just keeps getting better and better."
"I'm surprised I'm still alive; the old man seemed pretty upset."
"They were in a couple of times to check on you." Tully warned. "I think they're waiting for you to wake up." Tully listened for a minute before he moved to stand next to the other private. "Sounds like they're coming back."
