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The wedding guests gathered in the lobby of the Casa Del Mar hotel in Santa Monica. Howie had booked all of his family and friends into the hotel situated right on the beach. A large luxury sightseeing bus pulled up outside. Randall herded everyone onto the bus, checking off names as they boarded.

A few minutes later the bus pulled away, leaving the guests wondering where they were going. No one knew for certain, the invitations had been left intentionally vague. Randall got on the PA system on the bus.

“Thank you all for being prompt, we don’t want our bride and groom waiting for us, do we?” There were some giggles. “So let’s go over the ground rules – I know Howie already emailed these to you. First of all, there will be no cell phones or cameras allowed. If you brought one, you’ll need to leave it with me – and I will search all bags just to make sure.”

“You’re no fun, Randall,” Nick complained.

“Second, it appears that everyone has abided by the dress code, thank you very much for that.” Randall had eyed every outfit as they boarded and no one needed additional coverings. “Third, there will be no alcohol served tonight in deference to our Muslim guests.” He expected groans but thankfully no one complained.

“Where are we headed?” one of Howie’s friends asked.

“Up the Pacific Coast Highway, that’s pretty much all I can say - but we aren’t going far,” Randall said. “I can tell you that the bus will take us to the second venue as well so during the first stop you may leave any belongings on the bus, it will be guarded. Tonight we will have several cars with drivers to return you to the hotel when you’re ready to leave.” He put down the microphone and sat down in the front seat, he needed to compose himself. Randall was feeling a little overwhelmed, the day’s proceedings reminded him of his wedding to Shiza, and he was missing her dearly.

“Are we there yet?” Nick asked a moment later, bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Grow up, Nick,” Randall said with a smile. He’d become well acquainted with the band members over the last few months and knew what to expect from Nick.

Randall picked up the microphone again. “I’m sure that all of you know Howie and Suheera met in Iraq when he was a captive there. Some higher power brought a man to a land torn by war, a place he’d normally avoid, where his mental and physical strength were pushed to the limit. That same power threw a woman into an unthinkable and dangerous situation, her courage and faith tested daily.” He paused for a moment. “They say there is no such thing as love at first sight. I believe - I fell deeply in love with my wife the instant I set eyes on her. What do you think?”

“We believe,” Brian said, holding Leighanne’s hand tightly. Hoke turned to Paula, they agreed as well.

“It certainly has not been an easy road for Howie and Suheera. They are as different as two people can be but love has helped them overcome those differences.” He paused for a moment, looking out over the ocean as they drove north. “Marcus hired me to lead the private search team after the kidnapping, and I assisted them again when Howie went back to Iraq to search for Suheera. And here I am now with Howie, working as Suheera’s bodyguard. I believe fate brought them into my life when I needed reassurance that faith will see you through difficult times and love is real. Whether you believe in Allah or God, surely His hand has brought them together. He has something big in store for them, I’m sure.”

There was a round of applause on the bus. “I’ve spent many years in the Middle East; I understand the culture and the languages. I converted to Islam when I married my wife, who is Iraqi like Suheera.” He paused for a moment, remembering his beautiful wife. “I don’t think Suheera will mind if I tell you a bit about her, for those not fortunate enough to know her well. She was born in a small village in northeastern Iraq to a family of high standing in their community. Her mother died giving birth to her, her father remarried quickly. When she was just a week old, her new stepmother gave her away to peasant farmers that took in orphans to work the opium fields…”

“What about her father?” Kevin interrupted. “She wasn’t an orphan if her father still lived.”

“Her father wanted only sons, she was worthless to him. And her stepmother didn’t want a newborn not her own to care for,” Randall said. “In childhood, Suheera had none of the things you and I took for granted – enough food to eat, a nice home, an education, and the love and support of your family.” He paused to let that sink in for a moment. “Although born to a well respected family, because of the actions of an uncaring father, Suheera became an outcast to society. Her future was grim - she could not marry or return to her home.

“Suheera met a man forbidden to her and found herself falling in love. She had a choice – an uncertain future in Iraq or an unknown land thousands of miles away. Imagine the strength it takes to leave behind everything you know, to live in a world you know nothing about. Imagine trying to assimilate to a culture that is totally opposite of your own, dealing with people who look on you with suspicion and sometimes hatred just because you follow the covenants of your faith.”

Randall realized they were getting close to the church and wrapped up his speech. “The fact that this marriage is even happening speaks volumes to the character of these two amazing people. They studied each other’s religions and decided that at this time neither wished to convert. To avoid the impression that one religion takes precedence over the other, Howie and Suheera were married in a civil union by a judge last night. Today the couple will hold two ceremonies to celebrate the sacredness and the pageantry of each religion. If you do not feel comfortable attending one of the ceremonies, for whatever reason, let me know and I can make other accommodations for you. ”

The bus pulled into the parking lot of a small building, Our Lady of Malibu Catholic Church. Randall checked purses and pockets as the guests disembarked. They entered the small sanctuary through gardens filled with blooming plants. It was a small room, with wooden beams overhead, but beautifully decorated with wrought iron candelabra and flickering candles. Orchids and white tulle graced the ends of the pews, while small candles placed at the base of the benches lit the white rose petal covered aisle.

The altar was a simple wooden table covered with a cloth. A Bible lay on top, open. The wedding guests were escorted to their seats, forgoing the typical bride and groom sides.

The cantor came in and introduced himself and welcomed everyone to the wedding ceremony. “In your programs, for those of you not familiar with the Rite of Marriage, is an explanation of the ceremony and what to expect. We will sing, we will recite, and we will listen to the word of God and pray in His name. I’d like to welcome our Muslim guests, we are glad you are here to join us in the blessing of this marriage. No offense will be taken if at times you do not feel comfortable participating in the rituals. You are honored guests and we welcome you.

“Today will be a little different in that we will not be conducting a full wedding mass nor will we receive communion, seeing as the bride is Muslim. The couple received dispensation from Bishop Kirk in order to be married in the church.” He moved to the other side of the altar and continued speaking. “Instead today we will be celebrating the sacrament of marriage so the consent of the couple to marry can be witnessed by the church, thus making it a valid Catholic union.”

As the cantor spoke, the wedding party gathered in the foyer of the chapel. Suheera was brought out at the last second. Howie’s eyes grew large when he saw her, his heart in this throat.

“You look…wow, I have no words for how beautiful you are,” he whispered as she came to stand beside him.

“Shh!” Sierra scolded him, but then smiled. She thought the bride looked pretty spectacular as well. Finding a dress had been difficult. Suheera wanted something that an American bride would wear, but it had to cover everything and not reveal too much of her figure. They had little time so special ordering a dress was out of the question. They finally found the perfect dress online and a skillful seamstress added sleeves and raised the neckline. Suheera created the effect of a hijab with a lace veil, adding the required modesty but not making the hijab stand out.

The cantor stepped to one side as music began to swell softly. The guests stood as the hymn began and the wedding party entered. First came the deacon in his robes. Howie and Suheera then entered side by side, followed by Howie’s parents, his brother John, and Saleena.

Howie was dressed in a smartly tailored black Armani three piece suit with a burgundy tie and white orchid boutonniere. But everyone’s eyes were drawn to Suheera, resplendent in her white gown with a chapel length train. Her bouquet was a simple spray of white cymbidium orchids with burgundy centers.

Suheera was not prepared for the emotion that began to build in her. She had to fight back the tears that threatened to roll down her face. The first part of the ceremony went by in a flash; afterwards she barely remembered any of it. Before she knew it, it was time for the vows.
“Howard and Suheera, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage? Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?” Deacon Wright asked.
“We do,” they said in unison.
“Will you accept children lovingly from God, and bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?”
Howie looked to Suheera and saw her smile. “We do,” they said.
“Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church.”
Howie took Suheera’s hand into his. "I, Howard, take you Suheera, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life," Howie said.
"I, Suheera, take you Howard, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life," Suheera repeated.
“You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide,” the deacon said. “May the Lord bless these rings which you give to each other as the sign of your love and fidelity. Lord, bless Howard and Suheera in their love for each other. May these rings be a symbol of true faith in each other, and always remind them of their love. Through Christ our Lord...”
“Amen,” the gathering replied.
Howie placed the ring on Suheera’s left hand ring finger. “Suheera, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy spirit.”
Suheera placed the ring on Howie’s left hand ring finger. “Howie, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.”
Deacon Wright addressed the couple and the gathering of friends and family. “I have heard it said it is not love that sustains your marriage, but marriage that sustains your love. This is something that almost all married people will attest to. It means that you'll always have more love to look forward to in your life with each other, which you are beginning in an entirely new way today.
“There's a secret to a happy marriage that's in the readings that you chose for your wedding. The theme of unity comes through clearly, especially in the gospel reading, but does it make sense to talk about the unity of husband and wife if we're not given instructions on how to be one with each other? The instruction is part of the scriptures. The Lord tells us, through his prayer to the Father, to expect that the love of God be with us and part of our lives. Put another way, husband and wife learn to be for one another the way that God is for us.
“In marriage, it's good to pause occasionally and say, "Remember, I'm on your side; I'm for you." This is a lesson that we take from our faith, which speaks of the marriage in heaven between Christ and his bride. We, as the Church, understand that he is for us, his bride, in all ways and at all times. Perhaps above everything else, being on one another's side means to learn to be forbearing and forgiving with each other. The love sustained by marriage forbears, forgives, and learns always to say, "I will never leave you." It's the secret to the lasting marriage.
“So as you go forth this afternoon as husband and wife, I offer you my blessing as the Church's minister. However, when you first found each other you likely found the blessing that means the most to the two of you. It's with joy that we celebrate that blessing, as well as the Church's blessing, today.” He asked the couple to turn and face the congregation. “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Howard Dorough…” The couple looked out at beaming faces, mirroring their own happiness.
The cantor began a hymn while the wedding party exited the chapel. After he finished, he addressed the gathering once again. “The bus that brought you to the chapel is waiting outside to take you to the second venue. The bride and groom will be meeting you there shortly, after they take a few photos.”
Randall once again supervised the loading of the bus, making sure everyone was accounted for. As they drove the few miles to the new venue, he explained the proceedings.
“So today we are celebrating marriage traditions for both the bride and groom. We just witnessed Howie’s Catholic ceremony; we will now have Suheera’s Muslim ceremony. As is tradition, the men and women observe the ceremony separately. Ladies, you will be directed to one room and men to another, where there will be refreshments served while we’re waiting for the couple to prepare. It hopefully won’t be too long of a wait, but some of us know just how long it takes Howie to get dressed,” Randall said. Many people in the bus laughed. “If any of you do not feel comfortable attending this ceremony, please let me know and we’ll find a comfortable place for you to wait.”
The bus pulled up in front of a large estate perched on the edge of a cliff in Malibu, just a few miles from the chapel. As guests entered the house, Randall directed the female guests down a hallway into the family room, and the men were shown into the living room.
“Muslim women cover their hair and body, as dictated by the Quran,” Sierra explained. “We ask that you follow convention by covering your hair during the ceremony. Suheera picked out some beautiful scarves for you, which you may keep as a reminder of this day.” A rainbow array of lightweight silk head scarves were arranged artfully on a large table. Sierra and her assistant helped each woman drape the scarf over their hair and around the neck.

In the master bedroom, Saleena helped Suheera change into her second wedding outfit. The makeup artist was waiting as well. She added dark Arabian eyeliner and false eyelashes to create a smoky, exotic look to the women’s faces.

Thirty minutes after arrival, the guests were shown into the side yard, where white seats were set up in two sections in front of a low wood platform. Women were seated to the right of the aisle, men to the left. Behind the platform stood a white backdrop wall in the shape of two minarets on either side of a dome. Four fluted pillars flanked the platform, draped in white tulle and accented with burgundy bows and orchids.

More orchids overflowed from white ceramic vases on each side of the raised dais. The platform was covered with a large Persian rug. In the middle of the rug were two silver candelabra, a silver cup and a copy of the Quran. After all the guests had been seated, the imam came out and addressed the gathering.

“In your program, you will find a short description of the Muslim religion and information about the wedding ceremony itself. I’d like to extend a warm welcome to our Christian guests, we are glad you are here with us today.”

Soft music began to play through speakers hidden in the trees. Howie walked up the center aisle, accompanied by Randall and Diya. Paula thought he looked very handsome in a dark burgundy embroidered salwar kameez. She was surprised to see he was barefoot, but realized it was because of the mehndi, which had darkened considerably since the night before.

“Is that really our baby brother?” Angie whispered to her sister.

“Shh!” their mother scolded them, but smiled at their comment.

Howie knelt on the left side of the rug, with his witnesses seated to his left side. “We begin the Muslim ceremony with the nikah, the signing of the marriage contract,” they imam said.

Suheera came up the aisle next, accompanied by Saleena. She was dressed in a highly embroidered mauve salwar kameez and was barefoot too. A matching solid color hijab covered her hair and chest, while a cream colored lace veil concealed her face. Her only jewelry was a tiny tikka dangling on her forehead. She sat on the rug with her head bowed. Saleena knelt to her right.

The imam came to stand before them. “The tradition of Islam calls for the groom to offer his bride two mehers, or bride gifts. The prompt meher is usually given during the ceremony and the other is a gift to be used in the future, something that cannot be taken back as it is the bride’s assurance that she will be taken care of in case of divorce or her husband’s death.” He signaled Randall to begin, so he stood and faced the gathering.

“Suheera, Howard proposes marriage to you in front of these witnesses. His future meher to you is an education at any institution, to whatever level you desire. In addition, he offers you $250,000, which you may use however you wish. Is that acceptable to you?”

Saleena sucked in her breath, it was an amazing offer. She had received only a tiny fraction of that amount, forcing her to live with her brother after the death of her husband. She watched closely for Suheera’s response, a slight shake of head. She gasped, what was Suheera thinking to refuse such an offer?

“That is not acceptable,” Saleena said softly. Randall’s eyes grew big; he looked to Howie, who had paled. “Please, excuse me for a moment,” she said to the imam and then leaned in close to Suheera.

“Certainly,” he replied. He too was shocked at Suheera’s response; the meher was more than generous.

“What is wrong, Suheera? Have you changed your mind?” she whispered.

Suheera shook her head. “It is too much. Howie already gave Naseem that watch; it had to have been worth tens of thousands of dollars! I am not worthy of him…” Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“Yes, you are!” Saleena said vehemently. She looked to the groom, he was pale and shaking. “He thinks he hasn’t offered enough.”

“I am not a virgin, I am not worth that much money,” she whispered wretchedly.

“He doesn’t care,” Saleena assured her. “Let me speak to Randall.” Saleena rose gracefully and motioned to Randall to join her.

“What is the problem? Has she changed her mind?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“No, that’s not it. She thinks the meher is too much, that she’s not worth it.”

Randall groaned, he should have expected this response from Suheera. He had warned Howie not to make the meher so much. “He cannot take it back without shaming her – and himself.”

“And he cannot increase it, it would make Suheera look greedy.” Saleena sighed, she had no idea what to do to resolve this issue, she’d never seen this happen before.

“I know,” Randall said as inspiration suddenly struck. “I’ll have Howie donate the future meher to some charity. Do you think that would work?”

Saleena’s eyes lit up. “Yes! She said she wanted to build a school for girls in Iraq, girls who’ve been shunned by their families and have nowhere to go…”

“Let me run that by Howie, but I’m sure it will be ok.” Randall returned to Howie’s side, knelt, and after a whispered conversation, Howie nodded.

Saleena knelt and whispered in Suheera’s ear as well, she too nodded.

Randall turned and faced the seated guests once again. “Suheera, Howard proposes marriage to you in front of these witnesses. His future meher to you is an education to whatever level you desire. In addition, he offers to create for you a charitable foundation whose goal is to assist and educate girls in Iraq. He will make the first donation to your new foundation in the amount of $250,000. Is that acceptable?”

Suheera nodded, Saleena then answered for her. “Yes, that is acceptable,” she replied, watching the color flood back into Howie’s face as relief filled him.

“For Howie’s prompt meher, he gives you this ring.” Randall handed the delicately carved gold ring to the imam.

“Do you, Suheera, agree to this marriage?” the imam asked.

“Qubal,” she replied, the Arabic word for ‘I accept.’ He asked her twice more, receiving the same answer.

The imam turned to Howie. “Do you, Howard, agree to this marriage?”

“Qubal,” he replied. He asked twice more, receiving the same answer.

Randall and Saleena stood and held a white dupatta, or large scarf, over the couple. Diya sprinkled white sugar over their heads, which fell into the scarf, a gesture meant to sweeten the marriage. Two attendants brought in a large mirror framed in gold and placed it upright before the couple. Suheera lifted her veil, revealing her face for the first time. When she looked up, she met Howie’s gaze in the mirror. Love was shining brightly in his eyes. Howie melted at the adoration that shone in her face.

"I, Suheera, offer you myself in marriage in accordance with the instructions of the Holy Quran and the Holy Prophet, peace and blessing be upon him. I pledge, in honesty and with sincerity, to be for you an obedient and faithful wife." Howie took the ring from the imam and placed it on the ring finger of Suheera’s right hand.
Howie replied, "I pledge, in honesty and sincerity, to be for you a faithful and helpful husband." Suheera took an identical carved silver ring from Saleena and placed it on the ring finger of Howie’s right hand.
The marriage contract, a type of pre-nuptial agreement drawn up prior to the wedding, was brought out and the pair signed it in front of their two Muslim witnesses. The imam took the silver cup and offered it to the couple. They dipped their right hand pinky fingers into the honey in the cup and fed each other, a gesture to bring sweetness and harmony to their marriage.
The imam faced the gathering of friends and family. “In the name of Allah, you are now husband and wife. I ask Allah, peace and blessing be upon him, to bless this union.”
The imam opened his Quran and read the first chapter. Afterwards, Howie and Suheera rose and silently left the platform, walking slowly between the rows of chairs, smiling but not touching. The imam followed closely behind them.
Randall turned to the wedding guests. “And that concludes our wedding traditions – except for the walima, the traditional wedding feast. If you’ll remain seated for just a few minutes, Howie and Suheera are taking a few photographs. When they are finished, we’ll proceed to the back of the house where we’ll spend the rest of the evening partying.”
A few minutes later, the guests were invited to the backyard. A large open air tent was erected in the grassy area for dining and dancing. Bistro tables were set up on the stone patio and within the large gazebo which overlooked the ocean below.
“That was beautiful,” Paula said to her husband as they followed the crowd to the patio. “They both looked amazing in their wedding clothes, so different than what we’re used to seeing.”
“Interesting ceremony,” Alex remarked to Brian. “I’ve never been to a Muslim wedding before, have you?”
Brian shook his head. “Suheera looked gorgeous,” Leighanne added. “The fabric in her outfit was totally amazing!”
Howie thought so too, and told her so as they walked back to the house after the photographer had staged photos in the gazebo and rose garden.
“Thank you,” Suheera said, blushing. “If you will excuse me, I need to change for the walima.” He pulled her into his arms, finally getting to kiss her without any watching eyes.
“I love you so much,” he whispered. “Now, go change – and hurry, I want to join the party!”
Saleena and Suheera disappeared into the master bedroom. “What are you wearing tonight?” Saleena asked, she hadn’t been involved in choosing the last outfit of the evening.
“You are going to be shocked,” Suheera said with a wicked smile. She pulled a sleek black dress from the closet and held it up. “I want for just one night, to forget who I am and where I am from. Do you think I will go to hell for wearing this?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Probably,” Saleena said as she helped slip the dress over her friend’s head. “But who cares? It’s just one night, just one dress – and then back to the old ways.”
Suheera smoothed the strapless dress over her hips – it was form fitting to the hips and then fell gently to the floor in a swirl of fabric. “Now I need help with the jewelry.” She retrieved a box from the bed and carefully lifted out the headpiece.
“Oh Suheera! That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!” Saleena exclaimed. “No wonder you wanted your hair braided.”
“Do not even ask me how much it cost! I am sure Howie will not be happy, but I could not resist…”
“Howie will not care one bit once he sees you in it!” Saleena assured her. “You are going to look absolutely stunning.”
The silver plated headpiece was covered with Swarovski crystals which glittered wildly in the light. Saleena laid the headpiece on Suheera’s head and carefully secured it in place with bobby pins. The hair plait attached to the back of the headpiece and to the braid, which she eased over her friend’s bare shoulder.
Suheera picked up the chandelier earrings and inserted them in her ears, carefully attaching the backs of the heavy earrings. Saleena placed the necklace around her throat and latched it securely. On one hand she slipped on a crystal encrusted bangle, on the other a delicate panja bracelet.
“No hijab tonight?” Saleena asked. She’d never known her best friend to appear in public without it.
“No, not tonight,” she said, now unsure of her decision.
“Suheera, you followed every rule today in both ceremonies, I think you can be allowed one indiscretion.” She picked up the blush and added a little more color to Suheera’s cheeks. “You were very brave to have part of your ceremony in Howie’s church. I don’t know that I could’ve done it.”
“It was important to his family,” she said. “Howie was brave to take part in our ceremony. He was not sure how his family would react.”
“I don’t think there was a problem, his mother looked very pleased,” Saleena observed. “Although I thought Howie was going to have a heart attack when you refused the meher.”
Suheera colored a little. “I know I should not have caused a scene about that, but I did not want anyone to think I was greedy and insisted on him giving me that huge meher.”
“Anyone that knows you knows that you are not like that,” Saleena reassured her. “Come on, I’m sure that Howie is waiting.”
Suheera sprayed on a light mist of perfume and headed for the door after slipping on the high heeled Louboutin sandals. Saleena paused to touch up her makeup.
Howie was indeed waiting in the hallway. He’d changed back into his Armani suit, sans the jacket and tie, leaving the top couple of buttons undone. He turned at the sound of the door opening, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of his bride.
“Oh my god,” he whispered.
“What? Is it too much? I can go change…” Panic filled Suheera at Howie’s expression.
“No, don’t change – it’s perfect,” he said. “I just…never imagined seeing you in something like this. You look stunning.”
Relief filled Suheera’s face. “I was not sure if you would approve.”
“I approve 110%, sweetheart.” He took her hands. “I can’t wait for tonight,” he whispered.
“Me too,” she whispered back, and then sighed as he kissed her.
“Enough of that,” Saleena said, coming up behind the couple. “Let’s go see how the walima is going.”
All conversation in the tent ceased when Howie and Suheera entered. All eyes turned to the radiant bride, taking in her glittering, exotic beauty.
“You’ve left them speechless, sweetheart,” Howie whispered.
“Is that a good thing?” she asked.
“Definitely,” he assured her. “Let’s go greet everyone, ok?” They were soon surrounded by well wishers, enveloped with hugs and kisses.
“Have you ever seen a more beautiful bride?” Leighanne asked wistfully.
“Yes, you,” Brian replied. Leighanne’s eyes glowed with the love she had for her husband. “But you’re right, she is very striking. They look like they were made for each other.”
Before long, all the guests were eating and drinking. Suheera made a plate for herself but just picked at the food.
“Is there something wrong with the food?” he asked. “Sierra said this is the finest halal caterer in the city.”
“The food is fine. It is just not as good as mine,” she observed.
After taking another bite, Howie agreed. “You’re right, your food tastes better,” he replied. “So why don’t you start your own company?”
“I couldn’t do that,” Suheera said.
“Why not? You have the recipes, you have the talent – you just need someone to back you and I know just that person…” he said with a smile.
“Who would want to give me money to start a business? I have no idea what to do or how to run a catering company,” Suheera insisted.
“That’s why you go to school, sweetheart. So you can learn what to do – and when you’re ready to open your business, I’ll be your silent partner.”
“You would do that for me?” Her eyes were big with wonder.
“Of course! Whatever you want to do, I want you to do too – and to succeed at it.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “I love you so much, Suheera, I would do anything to make you happy.”
“You make me happy just by looking at me,” she said shyly.
A live band played in the corner of the tent. It switched between Persian music and pop songs, and sometimes mixed the two to the amusement of the crowd. Suheera pulled Howie to his feet and out onto the dance floor. Others soon joined them; the tent was filled with laughter.
After two hours of dancing, Suheera slipped away from the festivities, needing a moment to herself – and to slip off the shoes that were killing her feet. The gazebo beckoned, only a few candles lit the darkness within.
“Ah, that’s better,” she sighed as she removed the sandals. She wasn’t used to wearing them all day. A slight breeze off the ocean cooled her.
“I see the infidel has already turned you from Islam,” a voice in the darkness said. “No hijab and your body on display for all to see. It’s disgusting.”
Suheera began to tremble, hearing the voice she never wished to hear again. “I have a restraining order, they will put you back in jail…”
“That is nothing but a piece of paper and I don’t plan on staying in this country much longer.” Fareed moved out of the shadows. “There’s no one around. I’ll kill you right now if you scream,” he said, seeing Suheera glance frantically around.
“What do you want?” she asked, hating that her voice cracked in fear.
“Revenge,” he stated. “For myself and for Roshan. I’m going to kill your bodyguard for what he did to Roshan. And then I’m going to take you back to Iraq and give you to Miskeen and let him whore you out in every little village he can drag you to.”
Suheera shuddered, she had little doubt that Fareed would make good on his threat, given the chance. But she didn’t intend on giving him that chance. “Please, Allah, let Randall come soon…” she prayed silently.
“We’re going out to the parking lot,” he said, shoving her towards the stairs.
“Can I put my shoes back on first?” she asked, Fareed nodded. Suheera sat down and buckled the high heeled sandals back on. She really didn’t want to, she couldn’t run in them, but it got her close to the small knife strapped to her calf. She’d worn the weapon every day since she was old enough to protect herself.
Fareed looked away for a second, scanning the area. Suheera used that opportunity to ease the knife from the sheath. She had no pockets so she hid it in her palm the best she could, keeping her arm pressed to her side.
“Come on,” he whispered, taking her arm. But as they descended the stairs a small group of people headed their way and forced Fareed to change directions. “Down there,” he said, indicating a path which led to a small garden. Suheera’s heart fell; there was no real exit to the area, only the path they were on. They’d taken a few photographs there earlier in the day so she knew there was a straight drop down to the ocean below.
Randall stood at the edge of the tent, watching the festivities. Everyone was having a good time and was well behaved, seeing as there was no alcohol being served. The drivers had already taken a few couples back to the hotel, but there were still nearly forty people either in the tent or house or wandering the grounds.
As he looked around, an uneasy feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d learned during his three tours in combat to always trust his gut. He saw Howie talking with his family but Suheera was not at his side. He pushed his way through the dancers.
“Where’s Suheera?” he asked.
“She said she needed a few moments alone,” Howie replied. “Is something wrong?”
Randall shook his head. “I’m sure she’s just up at the house. Don’t worry; I’ll go check on her.” He sprinted up the lawn to the house and made a quick pass through, checking every room. She wasn’t there.
“Who are you looking for?” Sierra asked, seeing the concerned look on Randall’s face.
“Suheera. I can’t find her anywhere.”
“I saw her go down to the gazebo a few minutes ago – and then she and Howie walked down to the garden area.”
Randall knew it wasn’t Howie that had gone to the garden, he’d just seen him in the tent. The feeling of unease turned to alarm. “Thanks,” he said, heading to his vehicle at a run.
When he returned, his sniper rifle hung over his shoulder. At the edge of the property was a wooded area cloaked in darkness. He crept through the trees, keeping to the deepest shadows as he approached, thankful for the dark clothes he wore. He was uphill from the small garden area, hidden in a grove of mature trees. When he heard voices, he knelt, evaluating the situation. Slowly he crawled forward, not wanting to get too close. He was in perfect range with his sniper rifle, if he could get a good angle.
“It was not Randall who killed Roshan,” Suheera said.
“Who else could have?” Fareed replied with a sneer. “There were two bullets in his body, both from your bodyguard’s weapon.”
“But those bullets did not kill him, the police said. Why do you think the driver’s side window was covered in blood from the inside?” she asked. “How did a bullet enter his brain from the right side?”
“Could have been a ricochet,” he said. “And besides, you don’t have the balls to do something like that.”
“The bullet was too fragmented for the police to determine which gun fired the fatal round to his brain,” she said, staring him in the eyes. “But I know. I pointed that Beretta right at his head and pulled the trigger – he never saw it coming.”
“I think you lie, whore.”
“I think you have always underestimated me, Fareed. I told you about my childhood, but you obviously were not listening. I know how to get rid of scum like you and your brother.” Fareed lunged at her but Suheera nimbly jumped back.
When she did, Randall was able to get a good look at the man’s face through his night vision scope. “May Allah damn you to the depths of hell forever, Fareed,” he snarled. Cupping his hands to his mouth, Randall hooted like an owl three times.
Suheera recognized Randall’s signal. She wanted to feel relieved, knowing he was near, but she knew she was still in a very precarious situation.
Fareed pulled the revolver from the holster and pointed it at her. “Maybe I will just kill you now. Miskeen wouldn’t be able to handle you anyway. The man is an idiot.”
Suheera tried to make an educated guess as to where Randall was hiding. She thought the hoots had come from the trees; she needed to position herself to give him a clear line of sight on Fareed. She hoped he would shoot the bastard rather than try to confront him. She knew he was an expert shot; they went to the gun range together frequently after he learned she knew how to shoot.
“Your mother tried to persuade me to marry you after you’d been arrested, did you know that?” Suheera moved another foot to her right. “She didn’t care how she got more grandchildren, as long as she got them.”
“Mother has no idea about my other line of work,” Fareed laughed. “I’ll never remarry; I’m having too much fun.” The hand holding the weapon was steady.
“She knows more than you think,” Suheera said, remembering the look on Fahada’s face when Howie told her about Fareed. “She will not be concerned when you leave the country, unable to return?” she asked, stealthily moving another couple feet to her right. She heard the call of the owl again and knew she was in the clear now.
“I’ll be able to come and go as I wish, I have a whole new identity right here,” he said, opening his jacket with his free hand to show her the papers inside. They were wrapped in plastic and shoved into an interior pocket.
It was the opportunity Suheera was waiting for. With the blade between her fingers, she sent the knife hurtling towards her attacker. It embedded all the way to the hilt in Fareed’s chest. The knife was too little to do much damage, but it caused his arm to drop so that the pistol was no longer pointed directly at Suheera.
“You’re mine now,” Randall thought, holding his breath to steady his aim. He squeezed the trigger, there was a muffled ‘pop,’ and then another ‘pop’ and all was quiet.
Suheera was just as surprised to see the spreading blooms of red on Fareed’s chest as he was. She had expected more noise, a retort from the rifle and a scream from the target. But all Fareed did was gurgle as he clawed at his chest. The handgun dropped harmlessly to the ground. He staggered backwards, standing on the lip of the cliff.
“Join your brother in hell,” Suheera said, pulling her knife from his chest. He reached for her, begging her with his eyes to help him. “I told you both that you underestimated me.” She shoved him backward as hard as she could.
“Are you ok?” Randall asked when he quietly joined her seconds later. He looked over the cliff edge, happy to see that the body had gone into the water instead of landing on the rocks.
“Yes,” she replied, surprised at how steady her voice was. Randall took the knife and wiped the blade clean on the grass and then handed it back to her. She slipped it back into the sheath.
“You just keep surprising me, girl,” he said, hugging her. Slipping off his jacket, he used the sleeve to pick up the gun. He threw it out into the water, as far as he could.
“Thank you for having my back,” she said, making him laugh. “Do we have to call the police? I do not want to worry Howie…and no one is going to miss that scum.”
Randall searched her face, trying to decipher her thoughts. “We can’t involve Howie in this, even though it was self defense,” he said, thinking out loud. “There is nothing to tie the body to us, the bullets went straight through, there’s no evidence he was here.” He pulled up the few blades of bloody grass and held them over the edge of the cliff, letting them float away on the breeze.