Page 12 of Salute, To Bravery
“Stay close,” she murmurs, pretending to herd me along with the other prisoners. “I have orders to get you out of here. Your cover is blown. There’s a mole at the base, and these soldiers are coming for you. The highest authority in my country wants you kept safe so you can continue to negotiate peace.”
The sound of gunfire persists as Harper leads me away from the main group of prisoners, using the smoke and confusion as cover. My heart pounds in my chest as we slip through a narrow copse of trees to where a vehicle stands. The sound of fightingbegins to fade as we put some distance between ourselves and the battle that rages.
“We need to keep moving,” Harper says, her voice low but clear, and we both jump into the vehicle. “I’m told you know where to go.”
She has rescued me and is now placing her faith in my ability to get us to safety.
I nod. We move quickly, relying on Harper’s military training along with my directions and our combined knowledge of the terrain. Every so often, she stops and listens intently for any signs of pursuit.
The reality of our situation sinks in. We’ve managed to escape, but we’re still a long way from the village that I know will protect us. We near a derelict house, and Harper checks her watch before she looks at me with a resolute expression.
“We’ll rest here for a few hours, but we can’t stay too long,” she advises as she secures the perimeter. “They’ll come searching for us soon.”
Inside the building, a small, abandoned shack that has seen better days, we finally have a moment to catch our breath. Harper’s gaze meets mine, a mixture of relief and concern evident in her eyes.
“Rehan, I…” she starts, her voice faltering slightly.
“Harper, we made it this far because of you,” I interject, feeling a profound sense of gratitude toward this woman who has risked everything for me. “Whatever happens next, I want you to know—”
She steps closer, her hand reaching out to gently touch my arm. “I know. And I’d do it all again,” she whispers.
Harper’s touch sends shivers down my spine. Her proximity, the intensity of her gaze, and the sincere timbre of her voice charges the air around us with anticipation. For the first time since we met, we are truly alone.
I gently trace the line of her jaw with the fingers of my outstretched hand, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. It’s just the two of us in our own private world.
Harper’s eyes flutter shut at my touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips. When she opens them again, there’s a silent invitation that pulls at my core. I bring her closer until her body is pressing against mine, and the heat of the fire fades in comparison to the heat of her skin.
The kiss, when it comes, is a natural continuation of everything our time together has been building to—tender, slow, and filled with the unspoken words and emotions that have accumulated over the last few days. It’s a kiss that speaks of a shared understanding, shared pain, and shared joy. A reaffirmation of every decision that has led to this moment.
As the kiss deepens, our hands explore more earnestly, mapping the contours of our bodies. I feel the rough texture of her uniform against my skin, and the softness of her hair as I slide my fingers through it. Every sensation is heightened, and every touch is a new discovery.
Moving together, we lower ourselves to the ground, the blankets Harper brought with her serving as a makeshift bed. The world outside no longer exists, swallowed up by the night as we continue to explore the newfound territory of each other’s bodies.
Our connection brings an intimacy that goes beyond the physical. We divest each other of our clothes and explore the parts only bared skin allows.
When the moment comes for me to take Harper completely, I do so leisurely, sliding inside her, our eyes locked together. We move with a synchronicity that speaks of a bond that has been forged in hope, tempered in adversity, and now expressed in the most profound connection humans can share.
In this moment, there’s no war, no past, and no future. There’s only the undeniable presence of now. Her breath mingles with mine, and the heartbeat I can feel against my chest mirrors my own as our movements become more urgent.
Harper cries out in bliss as I bury myself deep within her and sound my own release.
As we lie there in each other’s arms, the peacefulness of the scene is in stark contrast to the turmoil that has brought us here. In that peace, there’s a sense of rightness. As if, despite everything, or maybe because of it, we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
We’ve found each other, and together, we’re going to change the world order.
Chapter Twelve.
Harper
It takes us another day and night to reach Al-Bustan in the Jeep. The terrain is difficult to traverse, and we have to take frequent detours to avoid being spotted.
According to Rehan, the inhabitants of Al-Bustan offer sanctuary to anyone who asks, and English is the universal language. The village is nestled in the forgotten fold of a valley, where the whispers of the past mingle with the rustle of the wind through the leaves of the surrounding trees.
Since leaving behind the wastelands of the desert terrain and entering the luscious landscape that reminds me of home, the air has changed. The valley has a microclimate of its own.
As Rehan and I approach Al-Bustan, the scent of wood smoke drifts toward us, carrying the faint aroma of baking bread and the tang of smoked meat. The houses—a collection of stone and timber-framed structures—have stood the test of time, their roofs thatched with golden straw that glows under the afternoon sun.
The villagers, wary of strangers, watch us from a distance. Their eyes are alert and their bodies tense like bows drawn tight, ready to spring into action.
