She actually smiled and looked over at Ken. "Would you care to translate?"
Austyn noticed that the other man's face had blushed deep red. "I didn't get the whole thing. Something about the bathroom. And him showing to us…" Ken's voice trailed off.
"You are far too polite," she told him before turning to Austyn. "The boy asked me if he should pee in your tea."
"And you told him?" he asked.
"Not today. But maybe tomorrow."
Austyn looked suspiciously at the glass cup before him. It looked strangely lighter than the last one.
"Don't worry," she said, softly tapping his glass with a spoon she'd been given with her tea. "He's a good boy. He wouldn't do it unless I asked him to."
Austyn saw her drop the three sugar cubes in her glass and stir the tea.
"Did he recognize you?" he asked.
"No." She shook her head.
"Have you stayed here before?"
She looked up at the white cinder-block facade of the hotel. "Yes, I have. Many years ago."
"Then you could have run into him."
"No," she said with certainty. "I was detained for five years, Agent Newman. And I stayed here quite some time before that. No, this boy would have been too young to be working anywhere."
"Then how did he know you took three sugars in your tea?" Austyn asked.
"He didn't. I don't take any sugar in my tea. But I would have used whatever he gave me to make him feel appreciated. After all, in bringing me sugar, he was trying to make me feel special."
He couldn't help but notice how much more at ease she looked here. She seemed almost happy. Certainly, she looked at home. She turned her chair slightly so that she could watch the traffic going by. Ken was completely quiet now that Fahimah was here. Austyn noticed he was doing a lot of staring in her direction. The argument across the street had subsided, and the vendor had gone down the street.
"There's a place I need to visit today," she told him after finishing her tea. "I can't go there, though, escorted by your soldiers."
"What place?" Austyn asked.
"The prison."
"You feel homesick?"
Her gaze narrowed. "It is a little soon to be making such bad jokes, don't you think?"
He lifted both hands in defense. "You were the one who's planning the contents of my tea for tomorrow."
"That maybe just turned into definitely," she warned him. "In fact, Agent Newman, I would not drink anything more at all while you are in Erbil."
"Which prison?" Ken intervened.
"Erbil Prison," she responded, turning to him.
"Do you need to see someone being held there?" Austyn asked.
"No, I simply need to visit the neighborhood."
"I know where it is," Ken told her. "In fact, I'm fairly familiar with the area."
The boy and the tea appeared again.
"Na," she smiled up at him. "Supas."
"What does that mean?" Austyn immediately asked.
"Na means no," she told him. "Supas means thank you."
Austyn looked at Ken first, making sure she wasn't telling him something totally off the wall. The other man nodded.
"Na, supas." he repeated to their server.
The boy smiled and dropped a sugar cube from his shirt pocket onto Austyn's saucer before going on to the next table.
"I think he likes me," he said cheerfully to the other two.
Another tour bus went by. A couple of young men stuck their heads out of the open windows and yelled something in the direction of the two soldiers standing guard on the street. One of them spit out the window. Austyn looked at Ken.
He shook his head. "Iraqis. Don't ask."
"I told you where I need to go." Fahimah turned to them, pretending what she'd heard hadn't affected her. "I will not accomplish anything if I go there followed by armed escorts."
"I can take you," Ken offered immediately. He turned to Austyn. "She's right. It's a lot safer to travel around the city if you don't bring that kind of attention to yourself. It's no problem. I'll bring her back."
There was no way she was going anywhere without him.
'Tell me who you're going to see. I want an exact street address," Austyn demanded of Fahimah. "Without cell phones and without knowing the language, there's no way I can get hold of you if I needed to."
She shook her head slowly from side to side. "I do not know who or where until I get there. I am acting on a… on a lead that is five years old "
Austyn was not about to be the one who would have to report Fahimah's disappearance to Faas Hanlon and the rest of them in Washington.
"We'll go," he said, standing up and putting an end to any argument she might have had. "The three of us."
Chapter Sixteen
In the east, a full moon hung low over the water. The research boat, Harmony, rolled gently on the calm rise and fall of the Atlantic. In the distance, lights from the cities and towns along the shore twinkled happily, offering a sense of direction to those unaccustomed to the broad black expanses of the sea. The kids, the parents and the crew were exhausted from the workday, but no one was ready to call it a night. Everyone was on deck.
David wished Sally could have been here. Josh and two other boys had immediately formed a friendship. The other seven kids on the boat were girls, but they were definitely not the enemy.
One of the guidance counselors played his harmonica while another one tried to match the melody with his guitar. The parents were happy just to sit and watch. Divided comfortably into various-size groups, everyone was sitting around, some with sleeping bags wrapped around them, enjoying this reprieve from hospitals and doctors and the day-to-day worry that was part of the illness.
'Ten hours into the trip and there hasn't been one medical emergency," a young father sitting next to David commented.
"That's a victory, isn't it?" he replied.
The younger man's name was Craig. His son was eleven and one of the boys that Josh had befriended right away. They'd come all the way from Virginia. Dan had the same type of leukemia that Josh did, except that he had been declared "cured" last month. The father and son were on this trip to celebrate. David thought that it was a good thing for Josh to see the full head of hair on the boy, the healthy-looking skin, the energy. Dan was a reminder that life could get back to normal.
No, David told himself. Would get back to normal.
A sore-sounding cough emanating from someone climbing the steep, narrow stairs from the galley drew both men's attention. Ever since Josh had been diagnosed, David and Sally had been very careful about keeping their son away from illnesses. The program director came out on deck. He was still coughing.
"He doesn't sound good," Craig commented under his breath.
"You would think they'd be sensitive about sending someone who was sick on one of these trips," David said.
"He's in charge of the trip, but he's also the lead diver, I heard," Craig told him. "A PhD candidate at Woods Hole. He does this in the summer. Real nice guy. I got talking to him for a while this afternoon when the kids were checking out the different instruments. He pretty much runs the show on these trips. I don't imagine they could have replaced him at the last minute. He doesn't think he's sick, though."
David snorted. "Really? What does he think is wrong with him?"
"He told me his allergies have been acting up, but it sounds like something worse to me, too," Craig said. "He was complaining of a sore throat. I have a bag full of homeopathic stuff that my wife packed for us. She's a distributor for a West Coast company that makes them. Maybe I'll ask him if he wants to try something."