Trusting A Sheikh (Playgrounds of Power 1) (23 page)

"Why are you here?" The image of Tariq asked.

"You know why." Khalid answered. "Your father has had enough, Tariq."

"So he wants to put me down? That's going a bit far, even for him, isn't it?"

"You're a traitor, Tariq. Why are you trying to protect this dissident scum? You're no better than he is."

The sound of Tariq's father’s voice crackled through behind the video feed. "Turn it off. This proves nothing."

"Wait a second, Father." Tariq replied. "You wouldn't want to miss the best bit. Here we go…"

Khalid continued on-screen, delivering the killer line. "Your father has bigger plans than you, or even the king, can understand."

Tariq picked up the remote once again and relegated the CCTV footage to the background, his point proved. When the original image returned, they saw the Minister sitting with his head in his hands. After a few, long seconds, he raised his eyes to the screen – noticeably less confident now.

"This proves nothing." He blustered. "I don't know that man, I've never met him."

"Don't lie, father." Tariq smiled, reveling in the fact that he had the upper hand. "British intelligence have him right now, and he's confessed everything…"

"And how does that affect me?" The minister replied, trying to bluff his way out of the situation, a little color returning to his cheeks as he bought more heavily into his own lies. "As far as I know, you've just paid a traitor to say that."

"I thought you might say that." Tariq replied calmly. "So I took a couple of precautions. Give me a second, I'm not too technically competent…" He fiddled with the remote, and Chloe watched with vicarious smile as the color once again drained from the Minister's face as he feared seeing whatever Tariq was about to display on the screen.

"You see." Tariq smiled. "You're as bad as Khalid, when it comes down to it. Couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?"

"What do you mean?" His father blustered. "I don't know why you're making up these lies, Tariq. What did I ever do to deserve…" He cut himself off as, this time, an image of himself just moments before appeared on the screen. Chloe watched with glee as Tariq delivered the final blow.

"I said,
you are my son
– and you have betrayed me. I will have you killed, and I won't lose a moment's sleep over it, whatever that weak excuse for a king has to say about it."

The Minister's head fell straight back into his hands and he slumped onto the desk, beaten.

"You see." Tariq said – extremely levelheadedly in Chloe's opinion – "I wonder how the King would react if I showed him that?"

"You wouldn't…" The Minister gasped in fear. He changed his tone. "I'm your father, surely you wouldn't do that to me?" He begged.

Tariq smiled. "Oh really? Because just a few minutes ago you were threatening to have me killed on the basis that it was your right as my father… What changed?"

"Son – this could ruin me."

"I know. That's why I took the liberty of showing you. Here's what's going to happen –."

"You and your whore dare dictate terms to me?" Tariq's father shouted, standing up and resting his palms on the table, his face shooting straight back to a dark, maroon red.

"Sit down, father." Tariq gestured at the chair. "We both know who's in charge here now, and it isn't you. And if you dare speak about Chloe like that again, then I can promise you that the consequences will be far more severe." He turned to Chloe and winked, and she felt a warm glow inside in response to his protective instinct.

"As I was saying – here's what's going to happen. First, you'll call off any other attack dogs you've sent to harm me. Second – you'll step down from your position at the Ministry immediately. I don't care what excuse you have to give, call it ill health or personal reasons, it doesn't matter – just do it."

"You can't –." His father gasped. "It means everything to me…"

"You should have thought about that before you try to kill me and the people I care about." Tariq replied, his voice hard as steel. "Last," he continued, ticking the demands off on his fingers, "I will retain access to my title, my plane, and the funds I'm due. Understood?"

"You think you can keep the plane?" His father exploded, his face a study in impotent rage.

"Not all the time." smiled. "But from time to time – yes, I do expect that. Let's call it… Compensation."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" His father's sighed, shoulders sagging, voice defeated. "Fine. It'll be as you say…" He punched a button somewhere offscreen, and the image went black.

Tariq stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, enjoying his victory before turning to Chloe. "Well that went better than I expected." He smiled, high-fiving his lover.

"Do you really think he'll go that quietly?" Chloe asked apprehensively.

Tariq smiled, full of self-confidence and the sight reassured Chloe more than words could possibly have done. She knew, just looking at him, that nothing bad was going to happen to them – not any more, anyway.

"No. With Khalid in custody, and the recordings, he doesn't have a choice. It'll take him a couple of weeks, but he's going to have to retire. He won't like it, I'll probably have to keep an eye on him, but in the end he knows that if I release those videos, he won't have long to live."

"The king would just execute him?" Chloe gasped.

"Not officially… But let's just say that he might die of natural causes rather quicker than he otherwise might…"

"I don't know how you've managed to live that kind of life for so long." Chloe said sadly. "It sounds so poisonous."

"Honestly? Nor do I." Tariq agreed. "I think after a while you just get used to it, you know? It takes taking a step back before you realize quite how awful an environment it is… You want to know something?"

Chloe nodded.

"I wouldn't have done it without you. You helped me see the light, never forget that." Chloe smiled warmly, leaned over and planted a passionate kiss on Tariq's lips after hearing those words. But he wasn't done.

"Now, about that plane… Fancy taking a trip?"

Chloe giggled and nodded vigorously. "There's just one thing we have to do before we go." She said.

"What's that?" Tariq asked curiously.

"You need to meet my dad."

26

C
hloe watched – and winced – as Tariq's jaw muscles clenched ever so slightly in response to her father's crushing handshake.

"Dad! Don't be like that…" She cried out, half in amusement, but half worried that her father might succeed in his quest to scare off her new lover.

"Like what?" Her father replied, the slight grin on his face indicating he knew exactly what he was doing.

"You know." Chloe replied firmly. "Don't pay any attention to him, Tariq, you understand?"

Tariq smiled back, turning his head slightly towards Chloe so that Nabil wasn't able to tell he was winking at his daughter. "I wouldn't dream of it, darling."

"Shall we go inside?" Marte, Chloe's mother suggested – aware of the tension and doing her best to dampen it. "Let's have a nice cup of tea…"

"Since when do you drink tea, mom?" Chloe asked, surprised. "I thought you were a diehard coffee drinker?"

Turning back inside, her mother shrugged. "Twenty years of living with these English, you have to make sacrifices, don't you…"

"Oh, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"No, you're right. It's like a national pastime – whenever I go over to a friends house, they offer me a cup of tea. I can't think of a time when the English don't think a nice cuppa is appropriate. It could be a funeral, or a wedding, or good day at work, or a bad day at work, or a birthday… You get the picture."

"I know, mom – I was brought up here!" Chloe replied, grinning.

"Oh." Her mother replied absentmindedly. "That's right, of course you were. Anyway," she continued, her face lighting up with a wicked smile, "who's for a nice cup of tea?"

"Yes please, Mrs Rouhani." Tariq said, as politely as a choir boy on his first play date. "That would be lovely, thank you."

"Oh, please." Marte replied, flicking her hair self-consciously. "Call me Marte. Chloe is told us all about what you did for her, the least I can do is offer you a nice hot drink!"

"Well then, thank you, Marte." Tariq replied formally. "You're very kind. But your daughter saved my life just as much as I saved hers. If she hadn't been so alert, God knows what would have happened…"

Marta shivered. "Thank God she did, that's all I can say." She said. "Please, sit down."

"Enough." Chloe's father said firmly, slapping his hand down onto the table for emphasis and shocking both his wife and daughter with the intensity – after all, he was typically a quiet, retiring sort of man. "As far as I can tell, Tariq – my daughter wouldn't have been in any danger at all had she not been hanging around with you…"

"Dad!" Chloe replied, astonished by her father's behavior. "I didn't invite Tariq over for you to insult him like that!"

"Well, it's my house, and I didn't ask you to invite him over." Her father replied in a surly tone of voice. "If you don't like it, then you can leave."

Chloe stood up, knocking her chair back and was about to reply hotly when her mother stepped in.

"Nabil! That's no way to treat a guest – have you completely taken leave of your manners?"

Tariq had also stood up in the commotion, and quietly pulled back his chair. "No, I didn't mean to cause any drama – I'll leave."

"Don't be silly, Tariq." Chloe replied, her cheeks flushed with anger, and her fists clenched. "Stay here. My father and I are going to have a couple of words."

"Oh are we?" Nabil replied childishly.

"Dad! Come outside,
now
." Chloe half shouted, embarrassed by the way her father was behaving. If she'd known he was going to act like this, then she wouldn't have dreamt of bringing Tariq over. Her father grudgingly stood up, pushing his chair back into the table with a thud. As they left the room, Chloe heard her mother apologizing awkwardly to Tariq.

They stood, facing each other in the dimly lit corridor outside the kitchen. "What gives you the right," Chloe began, fuming, "to treat him like that? He saved my life, for God's sake!"

"You know exactly why I'm angry." Her father replied, his own fists clenched in frustration. "I know who he is, and who his father is – and I don't want him in my house. Have you lost your mind, Chloe? How could you possibly fall into bed with someone like this – he's evil. How can you trust that he hasn't tortured someone, or worse – killed them. How can you think that you won't be forced to become some kind of subservient wife, dressed all in black? You don't know these people like I do…"

"These people?" Chloe replied, almost speechless. "If you want me to leave, dad, then you just need to say it. But let me warn you, if I walk out that door – I'm not just gonna come crawling back when you call, you understand?"

The muscles on her father's jaw clenched reflexively as he took in her statement, and he opened his mouth as if he was contemplating replying, before jamming it tightly closed, turning his lips white with exertion.

"And another thing." Chloe began, trembling with rage. "You didn't even listen to any of his story. How can you just think you
know
him? You don't even know what happened in that room, yet you act like this – it's pathetic."

"So tell me, then." Her father replied, exerting control over his anger. Perhaps it was Chloe's thinly veiled threat that she would no longer see him that had caused his rethink, or perhaps it was his normal calm and collected demeanor reasserting itself, but inch by inch he seems to be calming down. "Why do you think you can trust him?"

"You know his father?" Chloe asked rhetorically, knowing that it would bring up awful, horrifying memories in her father's mind, but equally knowing that she had to do it to make her point.

"Of course, you know I do." He replied, grimacing.

"Have you seen the news?" Chloe asked, knowing that she was about a deal killer blow to her father's objections to Tariq.

"What news?" The father replied, curiosity now replacing his quickly diminishing anger.

Chloe allowed herself a small smile, both in appreciation of her father's mood, but also to reassure him that she wasn't as angry as she seemed. "The news from back home – from Saudi Arabia. Don't tell me you haven't seen it – I thought you and your exile pals were all addicted to reading the papers..?"

"Oh, just tell me." Her father smiled, almost completely calm now. "Stop beating around the bush."

"Okay, okay." Chloe smiled. "Tariq forced his father to step down and retire completely from public life. He doesn't approve of his father's behavior any more than you do – and he's proved it, not just by saving me, but by cutting his own dad out of his life, and making it so that the man can't do any more damage… What more can I ask?"

The shock registered on Chloe's father's face slowly like a wave breaking on the shore. First, he crinkled his eyebrows in mild confusion, and then his forehead descended into an undulating series of hilly frowns, and finally his eyes widened in surprise. "No…" He breathed. "Surely not?"

Chloe nodded, smiled. "See? I told you he was a good man."

Nabil rested a hand on the wall as though he was fighting for his balance. "But that means…"

"It means you could go home, if you wanted to." Chloe replied, smiling.

Her father shook his head, clearing it of distractions. Chloe noticed with concern that her father had gone as white as a sheet. "Go… Home?" He said haltingly, as though the thought had never occurred to him. Her own anger completely dissipated by now, she closed the distance between them and laid a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, dad." She said soothingly. "If you wanted to, I mean. You don't have to…"

He didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, and Chloe was stuck between two minds – should she keep pressing, or let him work out the issue on its own? After all, the man had spent decades as an exile from his country of birth, and had probably never expected he would ever be allowed to go back. Not as a free man, anyway. She held her tongue and waited.