Stolen Innocence
Chapter 11
A man's voice. Not Akar, not her father…not Bane. It sounded like Passat, one of her League brethren. Talia listened but refused to come fully awake. Was she still in the cave? Or was this another dream? No, something told her she was not dreaming this time.
"I will contact her father; he is not far," the man said, moving away.
No! Talia cracked her eyelids, saw the back of the man as he disappeared from sight, heading outside the cave into weak morning light. Akar remained behind, shifting uneasily from foot to foot until he noticed her scrutiny, then he fled the cave. Indignation stirred in Talia, and she considered throwing back the blanket and going after Akar, but she knew her illness would never allow such physical activity. No, she was stuck here now; there would be no escape from her father's fury. Resigned, she closed her eyes. Her only hope was that her sickness would curtail his anger. Well, she thought, at least now he will realize how serious I was about his unreasonableness toward me and Bane. And I'll rebel again, if need be.
Talia was unaware how long it took for her father to arrive, for she eventually drifted back into fevered sleep. But when she heard him gently say her name, she caught his familiar scent, felt the touch of his large hand against her cheek, and awakened. His blue-gray eyes were soft for only a relieved instant, then they hardened.
"Foolish child," he said, his voice deepening with displeasure. "Once you are safely home, I will ask you why you've done this."
"How can you not know?" Talia, indignant, croaked out through her swollen throat.
Behind her father, Akar and Passat moved about, packing up what she and Akar had brought to the cave.
Her parent delivered a sharp, cutting look. "I said we will discuss this once we are back at the monastery." He glanced pointedly over his shoulder. "A place to which Akar will not be returning."
Akar made no remark, his shoulders rounding as he bent to his task.
"Why not?" Talia demanded.
"Need you ask?"
She struggled to sit up. "He had nothing to do with this, Papa. He tried to stop me from leaving home."
"He easily could have stopped you by alerting me. Now, I said, no more—"
"I threatened him. He had no choice. He only came along to protect me. And he's been trying to get me to return ever since we left. You must believe me. It was his idea to put the flag outside. Isn't that how you found me?"
Frantic, Talia watched Akar dutifully continue to gather their things, as if not hearing his fate. Perhaps her father had already told him about it before she had awoken.
"This is my fault, Papa. Akar should not be punished for my decisions. He wasn't defying you; he was protecting me. Don't you see?" A spate of coughs interrupted her entreaty, making her chest ache even more. "If he hadn't come with me, you might never have found me. Or at least not until it was too late."
"Enough, Talia. We are leaving. More bad weather is on the way, and we must make it back before it arrives."
Talia's headache had worsened with the argument, but it did not curb her protests as her father began to put her boots on her feet. "You can't send Akar away. He has nowhere to go."
"He will accompany us to our valley, then Passat will escort him to the village. He can live there, among his people."
"They aren't his people; we are. Papa, please—"
"Talia," Akar quietly beseeched, drawing her attention. He shook his head. "It's all right. I accept my punishment. It is just."
"No, it's not!" She tried to pull her feet away from her father, but he glared at her and captured her ankle in an iron grip.
"Not another word, Talia," he growled, reminding her for a moment of Bane.
Passat smoothly took her pack from behind her.
When Akar frowned and shook his head to discourage her defiance, angry tears blurred Talia's vision. How could he be so stoic and brave in the face of exile? What would he do, a young man with no family or friends beyond the monastery, handicapped, in such a remote region? And to think this was all because of her…
The lightheadedness returned, and she felt color drain from her face. Every breath hurt her chest. Every muscle in her body ached. How could she make it home?
"You must calm down," Akar said. "Your father will carry you, and soon you'll be home."
The thought of home without Akar, without Bane, increased the tears, but she refused to let them flow in front of her father. Bane. What would he do when he returned to find Akar banished, and all because of her? Would he do something rash that would anger her father? Or would he be able to convince his master to allow Akar to return? If Bane had not been sent away so soon after his previous mission, none of this would be happening.
Exhausted by the brief argument, Talia lay back until the men were ready to leave. She needed to clear her mind so she could concentrate on finding a solution. That was the advice Bane would give her in this situation if he were here. She could not allow Akar to be banished.
###
Bane came to an abrupt halt when Acayo's hand shot into the air ahead of him. She melted into a crouch amongst the heavy foliage, and Bane and Temujin hurried to her side.
"What is it?" Temujin whispered.
"Listen," she said, a finger raised.
Bane held his breath, strained to hear anything beyond the usual sounds of the forest and his own muffled breathing.
"Water," Temujin said at last.
"Yes," Acayo replied, eyes round and anxious, fingers nervously playing with a broad, glossy leaf on the plant before her. "It's the waterfall. We're here."
The foliage was too dense and the waterfall too distant for them to see it, so Bane felt confident that they remained hidden from Mutara, if he was perhaps near.
"Like I told you, the cave is behind the falls," Acayo quietly said. "There is only one way up, and that's along the rock facing on the far side."
"Is there a way around to the other side that will keep one of us hidden?" Temujin asked.
"There is a better chance of not being seen if you cross the creek above the falls. If you cross downstream, Mutara will see you for sure. First, we have to know if he's even there. I will go alone to find out."
"No, Acayo," Bane said.
"He won't shoot at me. I can distract him while you cross upstream."
"It's not necessary," Bane insisted. "And it's too dangerous."
"Bane." Temujin scowled at him. "Let her speak."
"You can't seriously be thinking of sending her in there, Jin."
"If you go instead and corner him," Acayo said, "he will take his own life; he won't surrender. But if I can lure him out—"
"And how will you do that?" Bane growled.
"I will tell him you're following me, that I ran away because you tried to kill me and that you're coming for him; you're close behind, and we should run. I can get him to come out of the cave. You can both be in position by then to take him. I'll make sure I walk behind him. If he goes for his gun, I'll be close to stop him."
"You are a child, and no match for a dangerous, desperate man," Bane said.
"I know him better than anyone; I can convince him to leave the cave." She looked at Temujin, and her tone hardened, "You want him alive, don't you?"
"It's a sound plan," Temujin said.
Bane gritted his teeth to keep from exploding. "It's reckless and foolish. I won't allow it."
"You will follow orders, Bane," Temujin said. "You are not in command of this operation, and such shortsightedness on your part may keep you from leading any in the future. We have discussed contingencies, you and I, haven't we? It appears you have already forgotten. Well, I'm reminding you now of our objective, as well as my expectations and mandate. Do you understand?"
"I've forgotten nothing. I'm just saying there must be another way."
"When faced with options in the field, you always choose the most straightforward one. Acayo is graciously and bravely offering herself as an ace in the hole. We would be fools if we didn't accept her aid. Now, we are wasting time. Mutara could be slipping away as we sit here debating this. You will follow orders, Bane, or you will stand down, and I will be forced to report your insubordination."
Though Bane knew he was out of line, it again took a mighty effort to control himself.
Acayo touched his arm, gentle but firm, pulling his attention to her determined expression. "I'll be all right, Bane. I'm not afraid. I want to do this. You gave me so much to think about last night. The day I was kidnapped, I failed all those children and their families. I want to redeem myself and help bring closure to them by seeing Mutara brought to trial. I must put those families before my personal vengeance."
Temujin rewarded her with a small smile. "A noble desire, Acayo. I honor you for it."
Of course Bane knew Temujin's threats were not idle ones, and rightly so. The Mongol may be his friend, but in the field he was his commander, plain and simple, no ambiguity about it. This was a test, he reminded himself. Failure was not an option, not failure of the mission and not personal failure. This was his life now, and if he wanted to remain in the League, if he wanted to remain close to Talia, he needed to do what was necessary, no matter how odious and against his conscience. And so, he swallowed his pride.
"I, too, honor you, Acayo," he said.
A relieved smile brightened her face. "Thank you."
"Very well, then," Temujin said. "Acayo will guide us above the falls where she will leave us under cover. From there we will allow her enough time to reach the cave. Then we will cross and position ourselves to take Mutara when they descend."
As the three crept cautiously by the right flank to reach the fording point, Bane wished they had been able to press on last night and reach this location when it was still dark. Yet perhaps Mutara was not even here. Maybe he had already come and gone. Thus delaying another minute, let alone for nightfall, would be unwise.
In their caution, it took them over half an hour to reach the stream well above the falls. During that time, they detected no one else nearby. Bane was not surprised; Mutara, if here, would stay close to the protection of the cave.
"You must make your presence known to Mutara before you get too close to the cave," Temujin cautioned Acayo. "He may have set up booby-traps along the approach."
"I will," she whispered where she crouched between the two men.
"Very well," Temujin said. "Now, you must go."
Acayo hesitated, and Bane noticed that her fingers trembled. If only they could give her a weapon, but unfortunately her simple, sack-like dress offered no place for concealment, and he had no idea if she even knew how to fire a gun.
Gently his big hands engulfed her bony shoulders, turning her toward him. She rolled her scarred, discolored lips together as if trying to hide a tremor there while she struggled to meet his gaze.
"You can do this, Acayo. You must forget about us and believe that you are alone; believing that will help you play the part. You must be convincing. Men like Mutara are not easily deceived, but I have faith in you and your courage. As you said, you know him better than anyone does. Use that knowledge against him. Control your fear. We will be waiting; we will protect you."
"Bane," Temujin said. "Let her go."
The Mongol's tone and choice of words did nothing to ease Bane's unrest. Carefully he lifted his hands toward her cheeks, half expecting her to flinch or pull away, allowing her a moment to do so. But she remained steadfast, and he took her damaged face in his hands, feeling the strange quality of her skin, saddened and angered by it, thinking of the smooth, soft flawlessness of Talia's skin. Acayo's eyelids fluttered with self-consciousness, but he maintained his touch and smiled at her from behind the mask.
"You are braver than he is, Acayo. He is but a worm. And together we will crush him."
A tremulous smile found her lips, and she nodded.
"You must go, child," Temujin urged. "Bane…"
With an encouraging nod, Bane freed her. Remaining in a crouch, she started to leave but paused long enough to look over her shoulder at him. Again he nodded, drawing that same tentative smile from her, then she slipped away into the forest in the direction of the waterfall.
Bane found Temujin shaking his head, a small, amused smile lifting his thin mustache.
"What?" Bane asked.
"You are quite the conundrum, my friend." He shifted his weight, glanced out from their cover to the nearby, quick-flowing stream. "I've seen you kill men with your bare hands without batting an eye, and in hand-to-hand combat no one is your equal except Rā's; you thrive on violence. Yet I've seen two young girls twist you around their fingers like string."
"There is no mystery to it," Bane grumbled, never appreciating Temujin's psychoanalyzing. "I've always detested the strong preying upon the weak, even in prison."
"Perhaps in this case, the prey is not as weak as you think."
Bane stared in the direction Acayo had disappeared. "Let us hope you are right."
They fell into silence. Bane's fingers twitched as he stared at his watch. Torturous minutes slipped by. Acayo's direct route meant she had only a short distance to travel, so they would not be here long, yet it seemed an eternity. Temujin, as usual, maintained calm, as if they were sitting in the common room, enjoying morning coffee together. Though Bane had mastered the ability to appear just as serene on the outside, aside from the occasional restlessness of his fingers, he had yet to completely master the inner composure that his SO possessed, and he envied his friend for it.
"Joseph!" Acayo's hail reached faintly to Bane's ears like a small wind chime. This meant she was downstream from the cave, about to ford the waterway. "Joseph, it's Acayo!"
Temujin touched Bane's arm, signaled, and they silently left their cover to make their crossing. The clear water was wonderfully cool as it filled Bane's boots and rose up his legs, reaching to his waist and slightly higher at midstream. He welcomed the brief feeling of being partly clean again, his sweat washed away. The stream's embrace gave his system a mild jolt, sharpened his awareness even more with its slight chill.
On the other side, he listened intently as they moved as silently as possible through the undergrowth. No more calls from Acayo; no return call from Mutara, not that Bane had expected any, for the man would be too cautious to be shouting about the forest, especially around water with its amplifying qualities. Was Mutara even there? Or would they find only Acayo waiting for them on this side of the waterfall? If Mutara was indeed at the cave, would Acayo truly be able to lure him out? Or would the man doubt her story?
They worked their way through the forest, down a slope that trailed away from the stream, moving obliquely to descend to the level of the path that Acayo had told them she would take if Mutara agreed to flee. Bane guessed they were about forty or fifty meters from the waterfall. As foretold, a narrow path penetrated the forest, regularly traveled by animals and perhaps natives. Back in the direction of the falls, it appeared the path widened as it neared the stream, for more daylight penetrated there.
As Bane settled into hiding amidst the underbrush to one side of the trail, with Temujin on the other side and farther down the path, he caught movement in the more open area. With even, deep breaths, he ensured his focus and calm, harkened to his training, considered the mission's objective. Trying to avoid thoughts of Acayo's dangerous role, he aimed his rifle down the path, sighted his scope, waited.
Soon Acayo stepped into view, expression troubled. As she entered the more densely-covered portion of the path, Bane thought her to be alone; and his heart sank with disappointment. But then, in the next instant, he saw Mutara. Why was Acayo not behind him, as she had planned? In two long strides, the African caught the girl by the arm. She flinched and halted to look at him in question.
Bane read Mutara's lips, "You will stay close, like I told you, girl."
Bane's grip tightened on his rifle. "Something is wrong," he softly spoke into his com.
Temujin's tone carried a hint of chastisement: "He is being cautious. Of course."
Yes, Bane told himself, indeed Mutara would be suspicious of Acayo's story, especially if fear had gotten the better of her when she had related her tale of pursuit. No doubt Acayo had tried to keep to the rear, out of their gunsights, but Mutara would have none of that. Bane pushed aside his widening concerns over the situation, stared hard through the scope.
Closer they came. Acayo's worried eyes swept her surroundings, as did Mutara's dark glare. Mutara was not a big man, but his build appeared solid. His hair was close-cropped, several days' growth of stubble giving his countenance a patchy, dirty look. High cheekbones and a lean face, a face that bore a certain strain upon it, the strain of one who knows he is being hunted. Bane again cursed Diako for disrupting their operation. Acayo would never be in such danger now if only the fool had obeyed orders.
Orders. Reluctantly Bane reminded himself of his purpose for being here. Rā's al Ghūl expected him to fail. He could not fail. He could not jeopardize his life with Talia, his promise to Melisande. Nothing and no one was more important.
As Mutara drew near, his steps faltered, his eyes moved quicker, peered closer into the forest in Temujin's direction. Surely Temujin was invisible. Yet perhaps it was not the sense of sight that warned Mutara but instead the instinct of a cautious man. Bane's stomach felt like lead. He noticed that the forest had grown strangely quiet, as if all the wildlife had fled, sensing danger.
Swiftly Mutara pulled Acayo even closer, directly in front of him like a shield. Then Bane saw the pistol in Mutara's right hand, the muzzle against Acayo's temple.
"What are you doing?" she asked fearfully, easily heard now that they were almost parallel with Bane's position.
"Come out!" Mutara snarled. "I know you are there."
"They couldn't have gotten in front of us," Acayo insisted, voice shaking. "We must keep moving if we don't want them to catch—"
"Shut up!" Mutara took a backward step, and Bane feared he would retreat all the way to the cave.
"Bane," Temujin's soft voice in his com. "Take the shot. From your angle, the bullet will pass through her and disarm Mutara. Do it now, before he backs further away and spoils your shot."
"What?" Bane breathed in disbelief.
"Come out!" Mutara yelled. "Or I will shoot this girl!"
"Do it, Bane, before he turns the gun on himself."
"But, Jin… Acayo…"
"He will kill her anyway. Do it. Now."
Bane stared through his gunsights, sweat pouring down his face, stinging his eyes, trickling against the mask. To him, it seemed his breathing could be heard for miles around. Surely Mutara could hear him, yet the man's attention remained in Temujin's direction.
"Bane," Temujin hissed.
Acayo's pleading gaze traveled around her until she seemed to spy Bane, staring right down his scope, her scarred mouth just open. No, Bane told himself, she could not see him; the foliage was too dense. If only she would look away. He could not, however, wait for that; he could not fail. Internally he repeated this like a mantra. Beneath the mask, his own scarred lips pressed together in despair, and his finger squeezed the trigger.
Acayo dropped, lifeless, her blood spattering Mutara. The African's Glock, hit by the round exiting Acayo's skull, flew away, swallowed by the dense vegetation on the far side of the trail. Clutching his bleeding hand, Mutara dove after the weapon.
Propelled by rage, Bane exploded from his cover and charged the African. He leapt over Acayo's body, crashed into the underbrush where Mutara frantically searched for the pistol. Just as his uninjured hand closed upon the mangled grip, Bane grabbed him by the shirt with a roar and threw him back out onto the path. A dark blur from the right—Temujin sprinting forward, rifle aimed at Mutara. The African ignored him, aimed the pistol instead at Bane, who was nearly upon him. But when he pulled the trigger, the damaged weapon failed to discharge. Bane snatched him up again, a powerful hand encircling his neck, lifting him off his feet. Mutara's hate-filled eyes bulged, teeth bared, fists beating uselessly against his assailant, feet and knees attempting to find vulnerable spots. Bane ignored his struggles, squeezed tight enough to compromise Mutara's breathing but not enough to kill him as he so desperately wanted.
"Bane!" Temujin cried. "Enough! Stand down!"
Bane's fingers tightened just a bit more, eyes locked with Mutara's, a tiny flicker of concern there now that Bane might tear him limb from limb regardless of Temujin's orders. Then Bane flung him to the ground, fell upon him, driving out what remained of the air in his lungs, and pummeled his face into a bloody mess before Temujin's hard grip on his shoulder and shouts in his ear brought the assault to an end. Unconscious but alive, Mutara lay sprawled across the path, close to Acayo. Bane regained his feet, swaying, chest heaving.
"Bind his arms while I attend to his wound," Temujin ordered, regaining his composure.
With blood-smeared hands balled into fists at his sides, Bane lingered over Mutara, quelling his driving desire to shred the man into tiny pieces. His breath rattled against the mask. Finally, he shrugged out of his pack and located a pair of zip ties, which he then used to restrain their prisoner. All the while he refused to look at Temujin, who proceeded to clean and dress the hand wound.
With Mutara secure, Bane went to Acayo, knelt beside her. He stared at her open eyes, devoid of light but somehow maintaining what he interpreted as shocked disbelief. Blood and gray matter stained the ground around her head. Her tattered headscarf lay amidst the gore. Insects buzzed about. He told himself that there was no way she had felt any pain, had never even known what was coming. Surely she had never expected him to kill her. She should have been afraid of me more than Mutara.
After closing her eyes, he used his knife to slice away the lower part of her dress to wrap her head, to hide the hideous exit wound that had torn away so much of her skull. Since they had nothing with which to dig a grave, he would lay her to rest in the cave. Perhaps animals would be too wary of a place reeking of the scent of a dog like Mutara to molest her.
Gently he took her in his arms and started along the path.
"Bane," Temujin called in an irritated voice, "where are you going?"
"To the cave," he growled. He half expected Temujin to try to stop him, but his SO said nothing more.
The musical rush of the waterfall broke through his anger and sorrow as he drew closer to it. When the path opened up near the lower stream, a light mist from the narrow, thirty-meter falls greeted his sweated brow. The peaceful scene lay in sharp contrast to the violence left behind him. The small cave remained undetectable behind the curtain of water. To his left, the rock face gleamed. Its cragginess provided natural stairs, albeit narrow, slippery ones, tricky for a man of his size. Climbing would be difficult enough without carrying Acayo's body, but Bane was undaunted.
With slow, carefully placed steps, he made his way upward, the proximity of the falls coating him and Acayo with moisture. His breath came hard, echoing inside the mask, the reek of blood filling his nose.
At last he reached the small platform of stone, and only then could he see the cave. The opening was less than two meters in height and a little broader than one meter, the backside of the falls easily touched if he held out his hand. To pass through with Acayo, he had to stoop and drape her body over his shoulder. Once inside, his vision adjusted to the dimness, well-accustomed to such scant light from his years in the pit prison.
The space accommodated several stainless steel footlockers, which undoubtedly held the supplies Acayo had told them would be there. A blanket lay wadded on the floor, as if tossed there in haste. Bane lay Acayo upon the floor, then pushed two of the largest lockers together. He spread the blanket across them before placing her body upon it. Reaching to cover her, he faltered, sank to one knee, his forearm resting on the edge of the clammy locker. He stared at the blood-soaked cloth that swathed her head, thought of the scars upon her youthful face.
"Forgive me, Acayo," his quiet voice rang hollow in the cave, as hollow as he felt. "And know this—Mutara will pay for what he did to you, to all of them. Justice will be served, and I will see to it that your family and the families of his victims know of your sacrifice and your bravery."
Getting to his feet, his back aching, Bane folded Acayo's arms across her body. Briefly he rested his hand upon hers, the chill of her flesh reminding him of the day his mother had died in the pit.
"I will find the woman who betrayed you, Acayo, and I will kill her." Slowly, reluctantly, he drew the blanket over the girl. "This I promise you."