Page 5 of Sands of Sirocco
Then he left, slamming the door behind him.
ChapterTwo
Jerusalem
The downpour made the nighttime landing more difficult, but Noah Benson didn’t mind.Rain also provided cover from the watching eyes of the Turkish Army.The skiff bounced in the sea’s choppy waters, wet season threatening in earnest now.
The salt spray stung Noah’s nostrils, and he wiped his eyes with the backs of his fingers.Rain dripped down his chin, clinging to the stubble of several days’ growth.He hadn’t had the time to grow a full beard.He squinted, looking toward the land for the signal from Fahad, his friend behind the Turkish lines.The storm would make it difficult to see, and Noah couldn’t afford to miss it.With as many vessels as there were out in the waters, they’d agreed the light would only flash three times.
When he’d first come to the Levant years ago, he’d never imagined he’d spend so much time sneaking into it someday.Noah vastly preferred going by land, an impossibility now with the mounting British offensive drawing closer to Jerusalem by the day.Noah hoped he wasn’t too late to retrieve the information they had sent him for.The numbers of Turkish and German officials fleeing had grown over the last week, according to their contacts.Any Ottoman ally was likely growing nervous—including Abdullah.And only Abdullah could help him.
A flash of light flickered three times, then it extinguished.Time to move.
Noah guided the skiff through the waters as he tried to focus.He’d much rather be working on the offensive.After a year of hard-fought battles up the coast of Palestine from Egypt, the British were at last on the brink of success—one the Allies desperately needed.Jerusalem was in their grasp.Noah’s frustration at being pulled away from the front extended through every stroke of the oar into the water.
As he drew closer to the shore, the skiff felt more like a block of wood floating in the rapids of a river.The fragile hull caught the swell of the waves, which pushed it toward the surf.He braced himself as sand scraped the bottom of the vessel and then Fahad was in the water, grabbing the skiff’s side and dragging it inward.Noah hadn’t even been able to see him on the shore.Noah hopped over the side, and the two men pulled the little boat up the sand until they safely beached it against the brush of the dunes.
“Akhy Nuh.”Fahad embraced Noah.Both were out of breath.The rain pelted them in the strong wind.“It does my heart good to see you alive.I heard rumors.”
“They weren’t entirely unfounded.”Noah grasped him by the forearm.He’d spent two months at Lord Helton’s house in early summer, where Victoria’s fussing over him had made him want to flee.He’d never seen her so emotional.Not even when he’d told her there could be nothing between them.
The promise he’d made to Ginger as he lay dying in her arms had been the most honest words he’d ever spoken.Victoria seemed to sense it wasn’t the time to convince him otherwise, even if his life wasn’t in his hands right now.But since he’d promised Ginger they’d marry someday, an unnerving sense of caution had crept into his actions.A caution he couldn’t afford, especially when he had to keep his wits about him.
More than anything, he wanted to return to Ginger, live the life he had never dared to dream of.But what if he’d only put her in a position of further heartbreak?What could he really offer her right now?
A crack of thunder drew his mind to the present.He followed Fahad from the beach, hurrying.The storm continued to provide cover from curious eyes, but the residents of Jerusalem were likely watchful, waiting for the war to reach them.
Fahad’s motorcar was parked a short walk from the beach, and they climbed inside it.The covered top wouldn’t protect the seats from Noah’s sopping-wet clothes.Despite being grateful for shelter from the rain, Noah was cold, the night bitterly chilly.He shivered, wishing he had the time to stop at Fahad’s home for dinner and sleep.
Then again, his discomfort was nothing compared to that of the poor soldiers who’d been battling for over two weeks straight, wearing their summer uniforms of twill shorts and short-sleeved shirts.Noah had the benefit of a trench coat and long sleeves.The soldiers were out in the elements with no relief in sight.He gave Fahad an apologetic glance.“By the time this war is over, I’ll owe you a new car.”
Fahad grinned at him.“Marry one of my daughters, and you’ll owe me nothing.”
Noah chuckled.“I’m engaged.And still Catholic.”Fahad wouldn’t ever allow a daughter of his to marry outside of his Islamic faith.
Noah had lost count of the number of children Fahad had by now.He didn’t seem twenty years his elder, especially not after some of the adventures they’d had together.That he could have any daughters old enough for him to marry was the only reminder of the age gap between them.They were a long way from Luxor, where they’d met so long ago, when Noah had first joined their mutual friend Jack Darby for an archeological expedition.
Fahad gave him a neatly tied package.Inside was a change of clothes comprising a simple cotton tunic and darkeraba, open in the front.Fahad had also packed trousers and akeffiyehheaddress, with a cordedagalband to hold it in place.The passenger seat was cramped, but Noah changed quickly, leaving his wet clothes folded on the floor.
“How is your family?”Noah asked.
Fahad lifted one hand from the wheel to gesticulate with his palm up.“They are well.As well as can be expected.”
“And Nasira?”It had been at least a year since Noah had visited with Fahad and his wife while coming through Jerusalem.
“Worried about you.”Fahad gave him a grim look.“She says this isn’t the time to be sneaking about the streets of the Old City.The Turks are sleeping with one eye open, looking for spies.”
“Jack will be within reach.”
“She’s just as worried about Jack as you.”Fahad grunted and reached an arm back again.He brought forth a basket covered with a faded blue cloth.“She sent dinner for you.”
Noah’s stomach growled at the scent of warm bread.He unscrewed the container’s metal top to find lentil soup, still warm.The scent of mint met his nostrils.It wouldn’t have mattered if it were stone cold.“You may have the best wife in Jerusalem.”He tore a piece of bread, then dipped it into the soup.
“Idohave the best wife in Jerusalem.”Fahad gave him a fond smile.“Next time, you’ll have to stay for a few days.When your people have liberated the city.”He said the last part with a sardonic smirk.Many local Arabs welcomed the idea of the British rather than the Turks, whose policies had been oppressive.But trust them?That was another matter altogether.
“And the Turks and German citizens?We’ve had reports of refugees on the road to Nablus.”
“The refugees are so thick, the road is impassable.Most head to Damascus.”Fahad shook his head.“How did the evacuation go?”
