Final Vow (20 page)

Ahmed saw the man running at him with a knife, but before he could strike
, a loud gunshot temporarily deafened him. The man fell and he looked back to the king and gave him a nod. The king had taken up position behind the wall Ahmed and Jamal formed.

As they approach
ed the hole in the palace wall, fighting turned to close quarters and guns became useless.

“Do you see him?” t
he king yelled.

“Not yet,
” Jamal answered back. “Oh no, look!”

Ahmed glanced into the sky at the fighter jets and cursed. He couldn’t see who it was, but he guessed Saudi Arabia had changed their minds and decided to back Sarif. “Get the king back to the
palace,” Ahmed ordered as he turned and started shoving the king back.

“Wait
,” Jamal called over the noise of loud explosions in the distance. “They just hit the boats. They are friendlies.”

“My son! Mohtadi must have found out we were under
attack and gathered our allies. Push forward, men.” The king’s cry rang out as his soldiers cheered and doubled their attack.

“
Sarif’s men are wavering and if I am not mistaken, that is Sarif in the back,” Jamal yelled.

“S
arif,” the king bellowed over the noise of fighting. Ahmed and Jamal shoved ahead, pushing through fighters as they surged forward. “SARIF,” the king’s deep voice caught his cousin’s attention and they locked eyes with each other.

The fighter jets flew by aga
in, taking out more of the rebel boats and surveying the fighting. Ahmed caught a glimpse of different countries’ flags and knew Rahmi would be saved. However, that was Jamal’s end game, not his. He fought forward with the king holding onto the back of his shirt as to not be separated.

“We end this right now
, Sarif. Unless you’re too much of a coward to fight me for my country,” the king yelled as more and more Rahmi soldiers finished fighting and cleared a path through the destroyed wall.

“It was never your country
. It’s mine! All of this should be mine. Instead I’m stuck with a title that holds no power while my wife rules,” Sarif spat. His balding head and pointed white beard gave him a menacing look.

“Then fight me for it. Save all these men’s lives and fight me for it. It doesn’t concern them
. This is between you and me.” The king pushed past Ahmed and Jamal and dropped his gun to the ground. “I’m not afraid to die for my country. Can you say the same?” The king pulled his curved dagger and pointed it at Sarif.

“I always knew you were old
-fashioned, but please. A battle with the daggers of our fathers?”

“I thought you would appreciate the tradition. It’s their birth that’s in dispute.
Let’s end this fight between brothers with their own knives. Order your men back.” The king gave Jamal a nod and his men started to clear a circle.

Ahmed looked around and saw the soldiers and rebels pausing to s
ee what would happen. Kings never fought their own battles. A quick glance at the palace and Ahmed saw Fatima standing tall and proud on a balcony watching the action. He didn’t know how she could stand there so quietly waiting to find out if she would become a widow. All he could do was be thankful Bridget wasn’t here to watch him battle Sergei.

It was then
that Ahmed saw him—Sergei. He stood a short distance behind Sarif who was now making his way forward with a knife. However, Sergei did not follow his employer. He stood in the back of the crowd waiting to see the outcome of the fight before deciding to retreat like a weakling or advance. Ahmed took a step toward him, but Jamal’s arm stopped him.

“Not yet, brother.”

The sound of metal against metal brought Ahmed’s attention to where the two royals fought. Dust and sand filled the air as they lunged and retreated with their attacks. The king had never seemed like the athletic type, but his form and mind for strategy were clear to Ahmed. Jamal had trained him well.

“You are not the only one with a vendetta. The king has been waiting and preparing for this for eighteen y
ears as well,” Jamal whispered.

Ahmed was floored. All this time he
had felt alone in his mission, alone in his training, alone as he hardened his heart and body, and alone as he dreamed of revenge. Yet, here was his king doing exactly what Ahmed wanted to do—and doing it well. With a spin and a slice of the king’s sword, blood blossomed across Sarif’s upper arm. His knife dropped to the sand and he found the blade of a knife pressing against the delicate skin of his neck.

The group of men
fell silent and Ahmed held his breath. The king had Sarif dead to rights, but he wasn’t moving. “I told you this ends today. Your men either turn themselves in as enemy combatants or they face being killed. You will be taken into custody and tried for treason.”

“I can’t be tried for treason when this is
my
country,” Sarif shouted.

“You can plead your case in court. But I think we both know that y
ou will die for your crimes against Rahmi. When the time for that decision comes, it will be at the hand of her people, not me. Jamal, take him away.”

Ahmed stood speechless. The king had his revenge in hand but didn’t take it. His brother rushed forward with six guards and Sarif’s hands were cuffed. It was then the king slid
his knife back into its sheath and turned toward the palace. He bowed to his wife who bowed back in kind. It was over. The rebels closest to the palace walls dropped their weapons and held up their hands.

But
Sergei ran. Ahmed saw the movement as Sergei’s four comrades turned to run into the village. Ahmed pushed people out of his way as he gave chase. There was no way he was going to let him get away. He would not allow him another chance to go after the woman he loved. As the king said, it ended today.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sergei cursed
to himself. Sarif had been defeated. He looked to his men and they took off. He hated running, but the battle was lost. He had planned this to perfection, but Sarif wasn’t as strong as he liked to think he was. Sergei had wanted to turn the palace to nothing but a pile of rubble. Sarif wanted the wealth and status of the palace and wouldn’t let Sergei destroy it. Now Sarif was going to spend the rest of his days in a jail cell. Sergei wasn't going to end up like Sarif, so he ran, too. No, when it was his time to go, he wanted it to be in battle, not rotting away slowly in some prison.

In the end
, he didn’t need Sarif installed as king of Rahmi. It had just fit his plan better. Ahmed would have become an enemy and lost all the power he had. But, that was okay. Sergei could still take Ahmed out regardless of who was in power.

Sergei cut through a small alley and
made his way through the town. He had a contingency plan just in case Sarif lost. There was a boat waiting for him on the opposite side of the island from where the rebels landed. He just needed to make it out of the center of the city where a car waited to take him to the far coast.

The town was easy to get lost in and
that was exactly what Sergei had counted on. The town was nothing but a network of small streets and alleys crammed with houses, markets, and businesses. Soon he had wound himself onto a side street that ran parallel to one of the main ones. All he needed was to follow the route another half-mile and his car would be waiting.

A blonde-streaked red
ponytail and camouflage caught his eye between buildings for less than a split second, but it was enough to cause him to skid to a stop. “Stop!” Was he hallucinating? Could the answer really have literally run right by him? His heart beat with excitement as he pushed past his men and started running back toward the palace. He cut through a backyard and a smile crept onto his face. He knew this house. It was where he killed that lying, cheating bitch and the son that represented her betrayal. He might have lost the battle, but as he saw Bridget skid to a stop, he knew he had just won the war.

Bridget controlled her breathing as she jogged up the street toward the palace. Her pack weighed a ton, but luckily she had kept up with her training even after her final deployment.

Marko
ran silently by her side as the palace grew closer. Bridget stopped and pulled out a map to figure out where the fighting was. She had seen the fighter jets and knew Mo had been successful in talking with not only the president, but also other allies of Rahmi. During her descent, she had seen the British naval forces entering the water surrounding Rahmi. Several shots from the big ships' guns and the fire from the jet fighters left the rebel ships crippled.

Marko growled and Bridget turned her head just in time to see a man launch himself
at her from behind a tree. She took the hit hard and went down with the weight of the man on her. He raised his arm back to punch her, but he didn’t have time. Marko was on him. The man howled in pain, giving Bridget enough time to raise the gun she was carrying and crack it down on his head.

“
Brava
, Miss Springer.” Sergei clapped condescendingly with a man standing on each side of him and one behind him. Bridget scrambled to her feet and Marko positioned himself between her and Sergei.

“Sergei. You’ll have to forgive me, but you took too long
coming for me. I ate that cupcake I promised you.”

“I guess I’ll just have to kill you for it,” Sergei smiled.
He flicked his wrist as the three men moved forward. “And kill that damn dog.”

“You touch my dog and I’ll kill you,” she threatened as she raised her gun at the men. The
y stopped moving forward at the sight of the gun, but it could have been because they heard the animalistic cry that rang out.

“
Take care of her. He’s all mine,” Sergei ordered.

Ahmed had chased after Sergei through the streets and alleys. He knew he had a chance when he saw Sergei cut through his old backyard. It was fate bringing him back to where it all began. It was appropriate that one of them die here. But when he made his way around his old neighbor’s house, he saw Sergei with three of his men stalking toward Bridget. The cry had been wrenched from his heart.

Without thought
, he sprinted for her. He would protect her this time. He wouldn’t fail. He couldn’t fail. It wasn’t his life he was fighting for any longer. It was hers.

“Sergei. I should
have known you would be such a . . . what’s the word you used?
Weakling
. You’re such a weakling that you ran when your army was defeated,” Ahmed mocked as they faced each other with guns raised and pointed at each other.

“I was never weak
. You, on the other hand, have always been. Let’s see if you have the nerve to back up that insult. You and me—no weapons,” Sergei challenged. With Ahmed's silent acceptance, they held out their guns and tossed them to the side. “Knives, too, even though I love them so much. I’ll save them for her.”

Ahmed saw B
ridget and Marko holding the three men at bay but knew it wouldn’t last. “I have everything under control. Don’t even look this way,” she shouted as Ahmed and Sergei tossed their knives next to their guns.

“I would. After all
, my men are going to kill her. Go ahead and have one last look at yet another woman you couldn’t protect.” On the implied command, the three men lunged at Bridget. She got a shot off and took down one man before a second man knocked the gun out of her hand.

Marko snarled and
attacked the third man right as Sergei made his move. Ahmed felt Sergei’s punch connect with his chin and his head snap back. He didn’t hear the man scream as Marko’s jaws closed so hard that it snapped his wrist. Instead, Ahmed made himself focus on the man in front of him. Bridget had told him over and over again that she could protect herself. She had flown halfway around the world to help him and he needed to trust her to do that. She loved him enough that she was taking on two men in order to give him the chance for revenge that had waited eighteen long years.

The blow to Bridget’s face was enough to have her sink to her knees and see stars. But she refused to let it affect her. She needed to keep this man focused on her and unable to stab Ahmed in the back. She heard the scream come from the man Marko had a grip on and knew he had things under control. Once Marko latched onto a mark, he wouldn’t let go. That left the ugly Russian in front of her.

In her peripheral vision
, she saw Ahmed and Sergei circling each other. She needed to end this fast so she could make sure Sergei didn’t cheat. She didn’t trust him for one second to not have another weapon on him.

Bridget
made herself start to cry. The man in front of her laughed.

“Stupid woman. Thinking you could beat a man? Pathetic.” He stopped in front of her and aimed a gun at her head. Bridget took a deep breath and sobbed again. She planted the balls of her feet on the ground and with a quick combination
of moves that Ahmed taught her, she knocked the gun from his hand and launched herself upward.

The weight of her body knocked the man in the chest
and left him stumbling backward. Bridget grabbed hold of his shirt with one hand and used the other to slam her open palm against his nose. Blood splattered as the cartilage crunched, but the man refused to go down. He roared in pain and reached for her. She moved faster, though. She boxed his ears and grabbed his hair before cracking her head into his face.

The head
-butt did it. The man fell to his knees with blood pouring down his face and his eyes rolling back. Bridget moved quickly and managed to get his hands zip-tied. She would have to thank Kenna for the crying tip when she got home. Bridget picked up her gun along with the one the man dropped from the ground. Marko still held onto his man as she took a slow step forward. She talked to Marko as she approached so he knew who she was. She placed her hand on his collar and ordered him to release his hold on the man. As soon as he released, she had the man’s hands in zip-ties and the gun leveled on him. Marko sat by her side with his tongue hanging out and his tail thumping.

“Over there,” she ordered. The man looked
as if he were going to protest, but he grudgingly moved next to his comrade. With her gun in her left hand aimed at the men sitting ten feet in front of her, she aimed the gun in her right hand over their heads to where Sergei and Ahmed were battling. She wouldn’t interrupt unless Sergei made her.

Ahmed blocked a punch and countered with a jab followed by a cross. Sergei stumbled backward before they circled each other again. Relief flooded him when he saw Bridget standing with guns in hand and two men cuffed on the ground as Marko stood guard over them. Instead of stopping him, she was allowing him to lay his demons to rest.

Sergei
shot daggers at him as they faced each other. Ahmed could feel Sergei’s anger radiating from him. His whole being was dark with rage. Blood dripped from Sergei’s split lip, and Ahmed felt his bruised ribs that throbbed.

“
Why? Tell me why you killed my son?” Ahmed demanded.

Sergei roared and charged Ahmed. His shoulder slammed into Ahmed’s bruised ribs and they went down hard on the ground. “You don’t even honor the wife you
took against her will by asking about her?” Sergei shouted as he pummeled Ahmed’s midsection in a flurry of punches.

The pain was searing. His midsection was on fi
re as he absorbed the punches. Ahmed placed his hands on Sergei’s shoulders and pushed hard, sending him falling back onto the ground. Ahmed scrambled away and got back to his feet. “I would never do that to a woman. True, I didn’t want her as a wife, but I would never do that to her.”

“Don’t lie
,” Sergei shouted as he balled his hands into fists. “I know you did; Paulina would never willingly lie with you. She belonged to another.”

“
The man she got those notes from?” Sergei was so surprised he dropped his hands and Ahmed attacked.

Ahmed snapped Sergei’s knee
with a sharp kick. Sergei cried out in pain as he fell to the ground. Ahmed quickly moved behind his crippled foe and put his forearm across Sergei’s throat. He squeezed and Sergei gasped for air. Retribution was at hand and power surged through Ahmed’s body. He looked down at the top of Sergei’s head as he clasped his fist and tightened his grip.

Sergei kicked out with his good leg and clawed at Ahmed’s arm. “This is for killing Kedar. For killing the only person I loved
then.”

“You . .
. took . . .
my
. . . wife,” Sergei gasped.

Ahmed loosened the chokehold only slightly and Sergei sucked in air. “I didn’t take your wife.”

“Paulina was my wife.”

“She was my wife.
She loved some man named Mikhail, but she was a virgin when
she
demanded our consummation,” Ahmed said with confusion. Was Sergei just trying to save his life? Ahmed tightened his grip again. He wouldn’t be fooled.

“I
. . . married Paulina. Her father . . . stopped us. Took her. She swore,” Sergei choked and gasped.

Ahmed stood stunned. “Swore what?” Ahmed asked, loosening his hold once again.

“Swore she’d always love me. Swore her love and her life to me. Swore that the only way you’d touch her was if you forced her. She promised to wait for me to rescue her. Her father forbid us to talk and brought her here when he discovered us at the church. But it was too late. We had been married before God. He threatened me with death, but it did not matter. She was mine!”

“I don’t believe you
. She’s the one who forced me. The wedding had to be consummated,” Ahmed argued.

“
But then she told me that she’d fallen in love with you. That she was pregnant with your child. That she didn’t mean any of those things she swore to me. That it was just foolish puppy love. She denounced our love, our marriage, and me. I died that night. But I got my revenge on her and that brat.”

“Shows how much you know.
She hated me. She hated our child. She mourned the man from the notes. And since you don’t know what I am talking about, then you are just lying to save your sorry life.”

“Mikhail!”

Ahmed had been ready to complete his vengeance until he heard Sergei scream the name. “What did you say?”

“
My name was Mikhail.”

“
I don't believe you,” Ahmed said, stunned.

“I told you. That adulteress bitch was my wife. Mrs. Mikhail Sergei
Petrov. You are not the only one to conveniently drop parts of your name when you felt as if you had died, Ahmed Mueez. Of course, I only died of a figurative broken heart. You on the other hand,” Sergei laughed at Ahmed. Laughed at killing his wife. Laughed at killing his son. Laughed at almost killing him.

Anger filled
Ahmed. It pulsed through his blood and pounded his head as he choked the life from Sergei. It was coming soon—vengeance. He looked up to heaven to tell Kedar his death had been vindicated. Instead of seeing the sky, he saw his brother, the king, and guards surrounding them. He saw Bridget and Marko holding them back. She was giving him time to complete the one thing that had motivated him for eighteen years. Her eyes were filled with determination, but sadness, too.