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Laila tilted her head, studying him with that too-intelligent expression. As if she could see right through him. “I won’t see you again after I get on that plane, will I?” she asked.
He studied her for a long moment, memorizing everything about her. “No,” he said. Laila deserved brutal honesty. He didn’t want her to think he’d change his mind.
Mel had called him a dumb-ass. But he knew who he was. He was the good time guy. All about right now. Nothing deeper.
He was a soldier. He’d stick to what he knew.
It was the smart thing to do. He had no idea how to build a long-term relationship, let alone how to maintain one. Laila would be better off without him.
Would he be better off without Laila? He’d have to be.
Instead of kissing her again, he stepped away and reached for the door. “Make sure you’re ready when I come for you.”
It would be the last time he’d come for her. And once she was on that plane, he’d never see her again.
* * *
“Everyone ready to go?” Laila asked brightly several hours later, trying to hide the hole in her chest left by Jase’s rejection. When the adults all nodded, she glanced around the barracks lobby and counted heads. Thirteen people.
Clutching the duffel bags they’d been given to hold their belongings, they all shuffled their feet. Her girls and the younger kids looked excited. The adults had tear-streaked faces and apprehensive eyes.
Bahram didn’t meet her gaze as he stood with his arm around Nahid, who leaned against him, openly weeping. Laila knew Bahram had talked to several different people earlier, and he must have given them enough useful information that he was being allowed to leave with his family. Was he afraid to look her in the eye? Or was he ashamed?
She had no idea. He’d betrayed her, but Bahram had stepped up as the man in his family. He’d talked to Mel as well as the screeners. He’d carried Amira’s and Nahid’s bags. Now he was comforting his mother, and it gave her some hope for the boy.
Maybe he wasn’t lost. Maybe, with some help and support, he’d straighten out. But right now, she struggled to forgive him. If Jase, Dev and Cody hadn’t come to extract her, she’d probably be dead by now. Or wishing she were dead.
His mother might have forgiven him, but Amira would barely look at him. Bahram had work to do if he wanted to repair his relationship with his sister. But he’d have time to do that, since he was being allowed to leave the country.
“Sit tight and I’ll check to see if the bus is here,” Laila said, stepping out the door of the barracks.
The bus idled behind Jase, who stood about ten feet from the door, and Laila’s heart stuttered as she watched him talking to a Marine. When she stopped, reluctant to approach him, he turned, as though he’d sensed her presence.
Striding toward her, he said, “Everyone here?”
“Yeah. They’re all inside the door,” she said, jerking her head toward the building. “What about the other people Mel wants on the plane?”
“They’re already on the bus,” Jase said. “Get your families. We need to get to the air base. That plane needs to get into the air ASAP.” He shook his head. “There’s a crap ton of people at the base, all desperate to get out of the country. The crowds are pushing to get to the planes, and the soldiers are struggling to hold them back. The pilots in the jet I chartered are jittery as hell. They want to be gone.” He sighed. “I have a Marine in the cockpit, holding a gun on them to make sure they don’t panic and take off before you and your people are on the plane.”
“You’re making me feel guilty because we’re leaving,” Laila said. “When so many other people are so desperate to get out.”
“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” Jase shot back, his voice hard. “The Taliban will be in charge in two or three days, and you can’t be here. Get your people and get on the bus. Now.”
With a nod, Laila hurried back to the barracks. Held the door open and told her families, “It’s time to go. Bring your bags and get on the bus. And do it quickly, please.”
The thirteen people straggled out the door, parents holding the younger children’s hands. The older kids hurried toward the bus and clambered on, as if it were a great adventure. Their parents trudged behind them, staring around at the country they were leaving, as if gathering memories that would have to last a lifetime. Tears trailed down their cheeks as they dragged the duffel bags, walking slowly toward the bus.
Once all thirteen people had boarded the bus, Laila hurried aboard and swung into an empty seat. Jase climbed in after her, and the bus driver closed the door as soon as Jase had cleared it.
Jase stood close to the driver, murmuring something. Had to be directions to the plane. The bus jolted forward and began to move.
Laila took a deep breath, clutched her backpack to her chest and watched the embassy recede as the bus moved toward the air strip. She hoped Mel and the rest of her team were evacuated quickly, before the country became even more chaotic.
During the ten-minute trip to the air strip, Laila tightened her hold on the backpack as she stared at the milling throngs of people. The bus slowed to a crawl as it moved through the crowd, and people pounded on the sides of the bus, as if trying to force it to stop for them.
The bus driver glanced at Jase, and he motioned for the driver to keep going. Finally they cleared the mob, and Laila saw that only a row of soldiers with guns kept the mob from rushing the plane.
The bus stopped fifty feet from the plane and the door opened. Jase stood up and moved closer to Laila. “Tell them to walk toward the plane, moving quickly but not running. They should climb the stairs then move out of the doorway and into the plane. The attendant will show them where to sit.” He held her gaze. “I want you to go last.”
