“He sounds like a real piece of work,” Zeke said.
“I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, which is when he showed me the video of the two of you, looking beaten and dead. I lost it then and fell apart.” Cantara impatiently swiped away fresh tears. “I had nothing left to live for, but was damned if I’d give myself to Salim, just to try and find an opportunity to escape. I had nothing left to escape to without you guys,” she added softly. “When he tried to comfort me I used some of the self-defense techniques you’d taught me and landed him on his ass. I think I hurt him pretty bad. His body and his pride.”
“Good!” both guys said together.
“He was like an enraged bull after that. He tried again and I kicked him in the balls so hard that I think I might have ruptured one of them. He howled with pain, and threatened me with all sorts of dire consequences. I told him I’d rather be dead than have him touch me, and if he tried to come near me again he’d get more of the same. I was almost as tall as him and a damned sight fitter, so I think I scared him. Anyway, he called two other men in. I fought them like mad but they were too strong for me. They tied me to that chair and Salim hit me hard enough to knock me off it, which must be when I fractured my skull. I now remember waking up in that cellar with my head bandaged and a throbbing pain inside of it.”
“Poor baby,” Raoul soothed. “It’s a damned shame the slime ball is dead. He’s robbed me of the pleasure of detaching his head from his frigging body. Slowly and painfully.”
“He came in to see me, all smiles again, and said I only had myself to blame for what he’d been forced to do to me.”
“Scum like that always find a way to blame others for their own actions,” Zeke said, scowling.
“Don’t I know it.” Cantara convulsed at the revisited memory. “He kept me in the cellar all the time after that, and told me no one would ever find me. I believed him. But he also didn’t try to touch me again.”
“Thank fuck for that,” both guys said together.
“I think he must have seen something in me that told him I was serious. Even in my weakened condition, I could still probably have taken him and he knew it. So, he came down every day, offering me decent food instead of the swill I was given the rest of the time, if I would do one small thing for him in return. Touch his hand, smile at him, innocuous things like that. The smell of the food was tempting, but I kept thinking he’d had you two killed, and was damned if I’d give an inch. It infuriated him, which is when he would take a whip to me, or amuse himself by nicking my skin with a knife, stuff like that. Other times he just sat looking at me for hours on end, rubbing his cock, bringing himself off.”
Raoul and Zeke scowled, obviously remembering the state of her body when she’d been rescued. Some of the scars would never disappear completely.
“I didn’t care about the psychological torture, just so long as he didn’t try it on again, which he never did. He just kept trying to wear me down with the carrot and stick approach, telling me I’d thank him in the end for reminding me where my loyalties ought to be. I was a Palestinian woman with a duty to have sons.”
“With him, I suppose,” Zeke said, scowling.
“Yeah.”
“And that went on for three years,” Raoul said, shaking his head. “He was a damned patient man.”
“Oh yes, stubborn was his middle name. Think about it, Raoul, he spent all those years playing second fiddle to his peace-loving brother, pretending he was of the same persuasion. But all the time he was heading up one of the most extreme factions in the PLO and no one close to him even suspected. He was a man who always got his own way, no matter how long he had to wait to make it happen.”
“They’ll never be peace in the region with men like him on the loose,” Zeke said, sounding resigned.
“You were right to tell me not to go,” Cantara said, sharing a glance between them. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn. It was arrogant of me to think I could make a difference. I should have listened to you.”
“You did what you had to do, babe,” Raoul replied, kissing her. “We both admire the heck out of you for that.”
“What I don’t understand is who told Salim you and I were married, Raoul? It was kept secret for precisely the reason that the Palestinians might not like it.”
“Levi was the guilty party,” Zeke said.
“What, Colonel Hassan’s adjutant?” She frowned. “I don’t believe it. He seemed like such a regular guy.”
“Well, that just goes to show you never can tell,” Raoul replied. “They found stuff buried on his personal computer. E-mails between him and a woman. He’d been set up and had no choice but to pass on intel or he would lose his job, his liberty, and his family.”
“He loved his family. I can’t see him cheating on his wife or doing anything to risk his kids’ safety,” Cantara said, shaking her head. “I remember him showing me a picture of his wife and kids once and telling me how much he admired what I was trying to do. He wanted peace in the region, too, for his family’s sake. He was a liberal-minded Israeli who accepted there was room for both sides to live in peace, if there was the will.”
“Yeah, we thought that way about him, too,” Zeke said. “But it wasn’t our call. We were prepared to tear anyone apart in revenge for your death on the flimsiest of evidence, so we didn’t ask too many questions at the time.”
“Where is he now?” Cantara asked. “In an Israeli prison, presumably, but we ought to go and talk to him, find out—”
“He escaped from custody,” Raoul told her.
“What! You’re kidding me. No one escapes from the Israelis.” She paused. “Unless they want them to.”
“We’ve been looking for him ever since he absconded,” Zeke said. “And we have some pretty good means at our disposal, thanks to the Agency.”