Stolen Innocence
Chapter 12
With Acayo's blood staining his clothes, Bane emerged from the cave and descended the side of the waterfall's facing. Nearby, Temujin talked on a satellite phone, giving their coordinates. This signified to Bane an extraction instead of a return trek through the forest. Feeling his exhaustion fully now that this was near an end, Bane hoped the helicopter would arrive quickly.
Gagged and sullen, Joseph Mutara sat not far from where Temujin stood. He glowered at his captors, a light of defiance still gleaming in his eyes. A man who would never admit defeat. Bane marched toward him without hesitation.
Temujin cursed and called, "Bane," as a deterrent that had no hope of succeeding.
In one smooth motion, Bane drew his knife and buried it to the hilt in Mutara's thigh. The man screamed against the gag. Bane twisted the blade.
"Tell me the name of the woman who brought Acayo to you."
Bane reached for the gag, turned the blade again before Temujin's arm snaked around his neck and jerked him backward. Though Bane struggled to break his SO's grip, he failed, bent backward by the smaller man, his damaged spine protesting the position. Pain shot through his leg muscles as he strained to remain on his feet.
"Damn it, Bane—"
"He has information we can use," Bane choked out.
"That type of information is irrelevant to our mission. You will not maim him any further, do you hear?"
"Irrelevant to you perhaps." Bane reached behind him, sought a hold in order to flip Temujin over his head, but the Mongol evaded his attempt and kicked the back of Bane's knee, collapsing his leg.
"Shall I pin you as I used to do in the dojo when you were a worthless student?" Temujin threatened. "Or will you obey my orders, as a soldier would, and stand down once and for all?"
Bane stared at Mutara, who squirmed against the pain of the impaling knife, hatred tightening the muscles of his lean face. The man's fury worked upon Bane's better sense, reminding him that he could not allow himself to sink to Mutara's level. He was, after all, a member of the League of Shadows, not some lowlife mercenary like Diako. How could he forget his training so easily? Perhaps Temujin was right and he had lost his objectivity.
He relaxed and surrendered to Temujin's hold. The Mongol waited, then, satisfied, released him.
"Retrieve your knife and dress his wound."
"Jin," he said, forcing calm. "I can get the truth out of him. Let me try. I won't kill him."
"Damn right you won't. Our job is to deliver him…in good health, so he can stand trial. We will leave the interrogation to the Rwandans."
"The Rwandans won't care about Mutara's trafficking; they have their own agenda."
"To what end would you ask your questions, Bane? Your task is not to investigate what Mutara has done. Again, that is the job of the Rwandans. Whether or not they are interested in Mutara's human trafficking is none of your concern."
"None of my concern? I just had to kill a child because of him."
"And it will not be the last one, not while you are in our line of work."
"Is that why you ordered me to kill her—this test of yours, of his?" He restrained himself from using Rā's al Ghūl's name in front of their captive.
"My order had nothing to do with that. The order was to achieve our objective. And it worked, no matter how onerous the method may have been to you and I. Don't make the mistake of thinking such an order was easily given. You know me better than that. And if you think torturing Mutara will give you some sort of relief, you are mistaken. Evil begets evil, if we allow it to. I have trained you better than that." He regarded him coldly. "At least I thought so." Temujin shouldered his rifle. "After you dress Mutara's wound, you will help him to the cave. We will wait there. I just spoke with Zakuani. He has gained access to a helicopter and will be here as quickly as he can. For now, we will remain hidden and vigilant, just in case our bloodied friend here has any allies looking for him."
"Then we won't have to leave Acayo's body here."
Temujin sighed, and his irritation drifted away. "Yes, she will get the burial she deserves. There is at least that consolation."
The only consolation, Bane thought as he turned back to Mutara. He bent to recover his knife, but before he removed it, he glowered at the African and twisted the blade one last time.
###
The journey back to her home seemed endless to Talia as she slept fitfully in her father's arms, awakened often by bouts of coughing. Sometimes Passat carried her in order to relieve her father of his burden, but usually when she awoke, it was her father's powerful arms around her. He would look down at her, speak soft, soothing words and assure her that soon she would be home in a warm bed, covered by her mother's blanket and cared for closely by Choden, who served as physician and healer to all at the monastery. Talia easily remembered how diligent and compassionate Choden had been with Bane during his recovery from his wounds suffered prior to his rescue from prison. Her ailment was nothing in comparison.
"I fear you have pneumonia," her father had said before they struck out from the cave. "We must treat you with antibiotics before it worsens."
Weakly she said, "It's a good thing, then, that Akar helped Passat find me."
Her attempt at redeeming Akar to her father drew a slight frown from him, but nothing more, no relenting of the young man's sentence.
During the long, dreary hours of their march northward through the valleys, Talia had no opportunity to speak with Akar. He trudged behind them, head down, silent, resigned to his fate.
"Papa," she said in a voice purposefully hoarse and quiet, hoping to wear on his sympathy now that he had had time to cool off. "Please don't banish Akar."
Her father only glanced at her once before turning his attention forward again, careful of where he stepped on the rocky, unforgiving ground. A light drizzle had begun to fall, and he gently tugged the hood of her parka tighter around her face.
"Do not waste your strength on another pointless discussion, child."
"Please, Papa," she whimpered. "Please…"
But her ploy for benevolence fell flat. Her father set his face like the stony mountains rising above them on all sides. Even conjuring tears proved worthless, and she drifted back to fevered sleep, the tears blending with the misty rain on her cheeks.
Sometime later she awoke when she no longer sensed movement. She opened her eyes to a slate gray sky. The rain had fled. Though daylight was fading, she recognized her surroundings. They stood atop a windswept ridge, and down below, a tiny, bleak village of ramshackle shelters nearly blended into the unforgiving, rocky slopes at the base of a snow-capped mountain. Drolma's village. The only settlement for kilometers around, the closest to the monastery. She had gone there many times, and Drolma—the village elder—favored her. She enjoyed listening to his stories about his life, spent entirely here in the mountains. His wizened little wife was always so kind to her, expressing maternal concerns for Talia being motherless. The settlement benefited from Rā's al Ghūl's generosity with provisions, especially during the brutal winter months, as well as medical care. In return for such favors, the villagers spoke to no outsiders about the mysterious men who lived just one mountain over.
With Drolma's village in sight, Talia knew she would soon be home at last. Yet this realization gave her little joy, for it also meant she would have to say good-bye to Akar. Of course, if he ended up staying in the settlement, she could still see him now and then…if her father allowed her to visit. But Talia was unsure if she could ever look Akar in the eyes after the ruin she had brought upon him.
"Akar," her father spoke sternly, turning about to face the young man.
Forlorn, Akar stared at the village, his expression set. He appeared to require great effort to turn toward his master. "Yes, sir."
"Are you prepared to accept your exile?"
The young man bowed his dark head. "Yes, sir."
"And you fully understand why I have made this decision?"
"I do, sir."
Anger stirred in Talia. She thought it cruel of her father to make Akar admit his mistakes yet again, in front of all of them. Why not just let him go? Why shame him even more? Or was it to shame her?
"You are a servant of the League, Akar, yet you chose to serve your own desires instead of your brethren."
"And for that I am sorry, sir." Still Akar kept his head bowed in humility.
"Papa," Talia whispered, her throat tight with emotion. "Please…"
Her father's gaze chilled her even more than the damp weather. "There is much you can learn from Akar, Talia. He has made no excuses, no emotional pleas or outbursts. He is humble and accepting, submissive. Until your influence upon him, he had never disobeyed or defied me. He has been grateful for all that the League has done for him, and he has always shown his appreciation by his untiring service."
Though Talia knew all of this, having her father verbalize it made her fully acknowledge Akar's strength of character, his admirable traits. She knew his life among the men of the League was not easy; though his brothers were not cruel to him, Akar's physical handicaps were glaringly apparent around the healthy, powerful warriors, and this often damaged his spirit. Only through Bane's support and encouragement did Akar recover from his moments of self-doubt.
"You think," her father continued, "that everything to be learned is found only in the dojo or in Sangye's books. You fail to learn by observing the moral virtues of others. The virtuous have as much to offer as the fighter. They are not mutually exclusive. Akar excels in the virtues. He is an example to you." His unrelenting stare finally caused her to look away in shame. Sighing, he turned back to Akar, who shifted from foot to foot, red-faced either from the wind or from his master's complimentary words. "And that is why I have decided to give Akar a choice."
"Sir?" Akar managed to strangle out, a flicker of desperate hope sparking in his single eye, making Talia's heart flutter with surprised anticipation.
"You may choose either to accept exile to Drolma's village or you may return with us under one condition: that should you ever again meddle in affairs beyond your duties as servant, you will face nothing short of death."
Talia stifled a small gasp, bit her lip to keep from speaking. Though her father's stipulation appalled her, she knew now was not the time to voice such disagreement. To even breathe might encourage him to rescind his offer of clemency.
Akar dropped to one knee before his master, head bowed again. "I wish to return with you. I give you my word—I will never again act so foolishly and dishonorably."
Talia's father regarded Akar with begrudging, almost haughty satisfaction. He nodded once. "Very well. But remember what you are agreeing to, Akar."
"I will, sir. Thank you, sir. Thank you."
"You will maintain your example of obedience and duty for my wayward daughter. Perhaps over time she will acquire those same virtues."
"Of course, sir."
"Then let us make haste. With luck, we will arrive home before dark."
As her father turned away from Akar, the young man raised his head in time for Talia to meet his eye. She offered a small, relieved smile, which drew a similar response from Akar.
"Thank you, Papa," she said.
"Your foolishness has cost you your health, daughter. Make sure it does not cost Akar his life."
Her father kept his frigid stare forward, and she knew without a sliver of doubt that he would indeed kill Akar if the young man dared displease him again. With a shiver, Talia closed her eyes, no longer able to look at her father, wishing more than ever for Bane to return home.
###
Bane and Temujin waited several uneventful hours at the cave. When the helicopter arrived, the pilot hovered above the small clearing just downstream from the cave. Zakuani tossed a line to Bane, who climbed effortlessly to the Eurocopter. In turn, he pulled up Mutara then Temujin, who held Acayo's body.
On the ensuing flight to Ikela, Bane said nothing. Instead he watched the dense forest below him pass by, kilometer after kilometer of beautiful green. He ignored Mutara's bandaged form seated across from him. Though their mission would not be complete until Mutara was delivered into the hands of the Rwandans, Bane felt detached from whatever came next.
At the Ikela airport, Bane was surprised when Temujin instructed him to transfer Acayo's body to the League jet, which awaited them, fueled and ready to take off as soon as they boarded. He expected Zakuani to bid them farewell and find his own way back to Kolwezi, but Temujin ordered him aboard as well. Bane had no desire to ask questions.
Once they reached cruising altitude, Temujin gestured for Bane to leave his seat at the back of the plane near a restrained, sedated Mutara to sit with him and Zakuani. Reluctantly Bane obeyed.
"We will touch down at Kisoro Airport in Uganda before continuing to Rwanda," Temujin began, stirring Bane's interest. "Zakuani, you will escort Acayo's body to her village. Bane will share what he knows of Acayo and her background to assist you in carrying out my orders."
"I can go in his stead," Bane said. "Zakuani can accompany you to Rwanda."
"My orders are not open to negotiation, Bane. This jet is bound for Kigali where we will deliver our package, then return to base. Our mission will have been concluded."
Bane forced himself to remain calm. "You've been compassionate in the decision to return Acayo to her home—"
"Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm doing this for your sake, brother. I am simply honoring Acayo for her sacrifice. This is why I've chosen Zakuani to deliver her. That and the fact that if I turned you loose in Uganda, no doubt you would torch the whole country looking for her betrayer."
Though he wanted to argue his point, Bane refused to lie, and refuting Temujin's position would be exactly that.
"As you said, Jin, our mission is nearly over," Bane rumbled. "Once Mutara is delivered, I could return to Uganda while you return to base. I'm confident I could locate Acayo's betrayer. I could stop the continuation of kidnapping, of supplying other Mutaras. Justice would be served. And isn't that the purpose of the League?"
"Such a mission for you would not be serving justice, Bane; it would be serving revenge. You think me a fool?"
"So what that woman is doing to children like Acayo and the ones we rescued is not our concern?" Bane allowed a hint of sharpness.
"It is not our concern today. I cannot authorize such a mission. You know that, yet you still lobby for it."
"Because I'm the one who killed her, Jin," he growled. "Not you."
Zakuani studied him with surprise, for he had yet to hear the details of Mutara's capture.
"If I had been the one to fire that shot," Temujin said, "my view today would be no different." He leaned forward over the small table that separated them. "When we return to base, you may petition Rā's for such a mission, but for now the matter is concluded. Do you understand?"
Bane simmered. "I understand."
###
Bane spent the rest of the short flight to Kisoro briefing Zakuani on Acayo's death and all she had shared with him about her family, her village, and the woman who was responsible for her abduction. Zakuani listened with deep interest and empathy. No doubt his relationship with Belvie had heightened his desire to help Africa's victimized female population. As Zakuani asked questions, Bane felt more at ease with Temujin's decision to send the African. After all, Acayo's people would not fear one of their own bringing such tragic news compared to an imposing, masked white man appearing in their midst with one of their dead children.
"Thank you for this service," Bane said, shaking Zakuani's hand later on the tarmac at Kisoro.
"It is an honor," Zakuani replied. "Have no fear, brother; I will make sure her people understand and appreciate what she has done."
"I know you will." Bane nodded farewell then turned back to the jet, brushing past Temujin.
Once they were in the air, flying south on the brief leg to Kigali, Temujin changed seats so he faced Bane, who stared out the window into the black night.
"Now that we are alone," Temujin began, "except for our slumbering murderer, that is, it is time we talk."
Without turning from the window, Bane grumbled, "We have already talked."
"Yes, as soldiers. But now we will speak as friends."
Begrudgingly Bane considered him, fingers twitching in his lap.
Temujin leaned forward, forearms resting upon his thighs, hands clasped. "I cannot tell if your silence signifies anger at me or sorrow over Acayo."
"It is neither."
"I don't believe you."
"I am angry with myself."
Temujin's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why?"
"Because I should have listened to you from the beginning. You warned me not to think of Talia while on this mission, especially considering the children involved. And you told me not to become emotionally involved with Acayo. But I did both of those things."
"I expected nothing less from you, truth be told. It was inevitable. The important thing is that you've learned from the experience. That is a part of your continued training. Being angry at yourself will serve no purpose. You have acknowledged your mistakes; that is crucial to not repeating them."
"I have seen little but darkness in my life, Jin. Children, like Talia, like Acayo, provide a light in that darkness. To be responsible for snuffing out such light…" He shook his head. "It will tear the soul out of a man. But, as you said, I will be called on to do such things again, and so I must accept the odious task." He paused, studied his friend's attentive face. "Have you killed a child before, Jin?"
Frowning, Jin slowly nodded, his gaze momentarily dropping away. "Yes. As with you, it occurred on one of my first missions after being initiated. The child, a boy, was being used as a human shield, similar to Acayo with Mutara today." He looked back to Bane. "So believe me when I reiterate that it was not easy to give you that order. I knew what it would do to you…and to me."
Bane had not considered Temujin's possible feelings toward Acayo. True, he had spent more time interacting with Acayo than Temujin, but obviously the Mongol had silently appreciated the girl's personality. Knowing now that his friend also grieved for Acayo eased some of his own sorrow.
"But you will learn to bear such things," Temujin assured. "In time, you will not think twice about it. It is an unfortunate but necessary aspect of who we are, Bane. We must forfeit some of our humanity for our cause."
Bane tried to relax back in his chair. "A part of me fears seeing Talia after this."
"Why?"
"She will sense my unrest and want to know the details of our mission."
"You must not be afraid to tell her. She, too, can learn from what you have learned."
"But if I tell her what I have done—killing a child, a girl, not much older than she—she may be troubled by my actions. She knows I have killed men, but—"
"You cannot shelter her from reality, Bane. Like us, she will eventually be sent on missions. It is her heritage."
Bane thought of Rā's al Ghūl's plans to wed Talia to Bruce Wayne, a plan that Rā's had shared thus far only with Bane and had acquired Bane's promise to keep it from anyone else, including Temujin and Talia. Yes, there would be missions for Talia, but Bane knew they would be of a different nature from his, not ones of guns and bullets but instead seduction and deception. How he wished he could speak to Temujin of this horrifying prospect and seek his counsel.
"When you return home," Temujin continued, "you must allow yourself to share your experiences in the field with Talia. She can heal your spirit. I've seen it time and time again. She centers you like nothing else can." He, too, rested back in his leather chair, relaxed. "Honor Acayo, but let her go. And forgive yourself. Think of those her sacrifice—and yours—has saved from the same fate she endured."
"You are right, of course, Jin." Bane nodded. "Thank you."
The jet began a gradual descent, and Temujin glanced at his watch. They had been in the air mere minutes.
"We will be landing shortly. Let our friend continue to sleep." Temujin nodded toward Mutara and grinned. "After we hand him over to the Rwandans, I doubt he will have the luxury of peaceful sleep ever again."