MONDAY MORNING, Monica took a glimpse at the clock on the nightstand in her room. Nearly time for the video call with the Dagher women in Riyadh. Fatima and Yasmine had helped her to a chair and dressed her in traditional Saudi black. Although she was forced to wear the IV, by keeping her arm down, the camera shouldn’t detect it. A small table held her laptop as though she were sitting at a desk.
The physical effort had sapped her, but she’d not admit it. By the time the day hit its end, she’d walk the upstairs hallway to build her strength.
In five minutes, the interview with Youssof Dagher’s mother and sisters would take place. Kord sat across the room, ready to assist with his mic. He’d be giving Monica prompts or insights from the women’s body language that she could hear through her earbud. He looked at her differently, softer, and it wasn’t her imagination. Prior to dressing for the interview, she’d received his text.
With God all things r possible.
Have u chosen belief?
Yep.
Knowing his faith in God now had roots, she shouldn’t fear her caring for him. How very strange to fear a relationship while craving it at the same time. Later they’d talk. Most likely after the mission ended.
The computer screen came to life with four women wearing black from head to toe and seated in a bleak-looking room in total gray scale. The male translator did an audio test, and they were ready to go.
“Miss Alden, these women are aware you have questions for them.”
“Thank you,” she said in Arabic and gave a slight smile. “I’m sorry for the tragedies that have fallen upon your family. I understand the heartache of losing loved ones. My hope is to offer comfort and possibly address questions about Youssof and Rashid.”
One of the women stiffened, but nothing was said.
“Good,” Kord said into her earbud. “You’ve established your purpose.”
“I’m so sorry about Youssof’s car accident and your father being detained. We women treasure our relationships with the men in our families, and without them, life is unthinkable.”
“The older woman’s body language says she distrusts you,” Kord said.
Monica interpreted the same reaction.
“How is my son?” the woman said.
Monica could only imagine how the woman’s heart ached for her child. “He’s critical with serious burns, broken bones, and a concussion. A friend spoke to him, and he expressed concern about his father, you, and his sisters.”
“Are you a mother?” the woman said.
“Not yet.”
“As a woman, what can you do for my husband and son?”
“I can bring truth to those looking for answers.”
“Answers for what?” the woman said. “My husband and son are innocent of betraying our country. We are all loyal to Saudi Arabia.”
“I hear concern in your voice, and I don’t want to see you lose a family member. But evidence is mounting that either Rashid or Youssof has helped in an assassination plot against Saudi Prince Omar bin Talal. People are dead. Right now your husband and son look guilty, which means both face serious charges.” Monica tilted her head. “Are you ready for both of them to face death?”
The woman rose from her chair. “They are innocent.”
“Why was Youssof in the US illegally?”
“I didn’t know he was there.”
“Pay dirt,” Kord said.
A younger woman shook her fist at the camera, her anger apparent in her tone. “Mother, you know Youssof believed his friends. Father tried to persuade him, but you saw how he treated Father.”
“What happened?” Monica said.
The younger woman rose and took her mother’s hand. “After we moved to Riyadh, Youssof and Father argued about him returning to Iraq. When Father blocked the door and would not let him pass, Youssof pushed him against a table. Father is loyal to Saudi Arabia, and it’s wrong for him to take the blame for Youssof’s actions.”
The older woman buried her face in her hands. “What am I to do? Choose between my husband and son?”
“Mother, choose the truth and save my father.”
“Who is guilty?” Monica waited.
The older woman looked up with a tearstained face. “My son. He has friends who are bad men.”
“Why did he choose their ways?” Monica said.
“Youssof was a small boy. Weak. Many teased him about his size. The bad men promised him money and power.”
“Do you have names of these men?”
“No. Rashid followed him a couple of times, but Youssof seemed to sense it and my husband learned nothing.”
“Your sorrow must be great. What you’ve said will help your husband.”
“And my son?” She heard the anguish in the mother’s voice.
“I wish I had an answer for you. He’s getting the best care available for his burns and injuries.”
“How will we be informed about his condition?” the mother said.
“I’ll make your request known to Prince Omar.” Monica wished she had the power to ease their minds.
The mother whispered her thanks, and Monica ended the interview.
They had corroboration of Youssof’s friendship with possible suspects, but no names. Would Rashid have discovered his son’s friends? Would he go to his death protecting his son?