Seven Days From Sunday by Sargent M. H

Author:Sargent, M. H. [Sargent, M. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Mystery, Suspense
Amazon: B00359FHZ6
Goodreads: 16092972
Publisher: Salt Castle Publications
Published: 2010-01-19T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Basra, Iraq Saturday, April 15th 11:41 a.m.

She now sat on the front steps of her aunt’s house, waiting.

The small suitcase the Americans had provided prior to her arrival at Basra sat beside her, filled with a few clothes and toiletries. Hidden inside, along the spine of the special valise was the satellite cell phone with which she could call the Americans – either Dr. McKay or her boss. She had never made a call with it, having only received text messages from the woman doctor and had almost thrown it away when she had packed her clothes. Why not? She certainly wasn’t going to call the Americans now. She had made her decision. But at the last minute she had tucked it inside the suitcase’s hiding place.

In the end, her decision came down to Adnan. She not only wanted to see him again, she wanted a future with him. Although she wasn’t all that sure the country had a solid future, at least as a democracy, she believed in Adnan and she believed in herself. They would prevail. If she did this one thing, and somehow managed to do it right, she would hold the key to their future. They could then both be free, and nothing, not al Mudtaji, nor the Americans, could keep them apart again.

Provided they both lived, of course.

After talking to her father and figuring out the real number to call, she had first called the pharmacy again. The previous day, after overhearing Dr. McKay talking on her cell phone about Thamer Pharmacy and heart medication, she had been very anxious to call Adnan and warn him.

However, by the time the taxi had dropped them both off at the hospital in downtown Basra and she had found a pay phone where she wouldn’t be overheard, there had been no answer at the pharmacy. This had never happened before since either Thamer or Adnan was always in the shop during business hours. She had tried calling throughout the late afternoon and evening. But the phone just rang and rang which only exacerbated her worry.

The following day, calling from inside the small café, Thamer had answered, very brusque. But as soon as he recognized Ghaniyah’s voice, he angrily told her what had happened. Although the old man had seemed confused at times, she was finally able to piece together his rambling and reconstruct why the two pharmacists had been picked up – the note left in the American’s mouth had been written on stationery from the pharmacy. She immediately knew that al Mudtaji would have never fingered anyone that had helped him, and she knew he fervently believed he and Adnan were of like mind. More than likely Sharif had written the note and purposely chosen to point the finger at the pharmacy by using their stationery. An easy task considering al Mudtaji was illiterate.

It nearly killed her to think of Adnan being held prisoner by the Americans. Why hadn’t they released him? They had let Thamer and some old man, a regular customer of theirs, go.

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