Free Ruthless by Steven F. Freeman Page B

condo. “All ashore!” he called to the back seat, attempting to break through the mutual spell David and Fahima had cast on one another. Mallory and Chelsea laughed as they made their way out of the SUV, the vehicle’s height forcing them to jump down to the parking lot’s asphalt surface.
    After stowing his friends’ luggage in their rooms, Alton joined the others in the den. He and Mallory rejoiced at the reunion of David and Fahima, a meeting so long anticipated yet so often delayed. Never were four hearts and minds in such harmony as on that perfect occasion. Chelsea observed their conversation but for once seemed to find herself in the unusual position of the outsider looking in.
    The old friends talked for several hours, in particular catching up on events in Kabul.
    “So, how is Mastana doing?” Alton asked Fahima, who had promised to look after his young friend.
    “Mastana is good,” reported Fahima. “She is good student in school, but her mother is sick a lot. Her mother—Farah—she is afraid of Dani, Mastana’s uncle.  He is still in Al-Qaeda and tells Farah and Mastana what they should do.”
    Alton frowned. This was the outcome he had most feared when he had left Afghanistan. But what could he do? What could any of them do, especially now that Fahima no longer resided in Kabul?
    Fahima continued. “There is boy in Mastana’s neighborhood who likes her, but she pretends not to notice him.” She broke out into a laugh.
    Alton raised an eyebrow in surprise. Mastana had been a gangly twelve year old when he had last seen her, but two years had passed, and he supposed the change from child to woman had begun.
    “Why don’t I throw together some dinner?” asked Alton, noticing the time. “Are you all hungry?”
    “Yes,” exclaimed Mallory with the others nodding in unison.
    “Okay—let me see what I have. I’ll figure out something.”
    “I’ll come help you,” announced David.
    The two veterans retired to the kitchen. Alton felt a bit surprised at David’s willingness to extract himself from Fahima’s side.
    Alton leaned into the refrigerator, picking out an assortment of “breakfast-for-dinner” ingredients. As he placed the foodstuffs on the counter, he noticed David gazing at him intently.
    “Is everything okay?” asked Alton.
    David continued to stare without blinking. “You realize you’re making things hard for a red-blooded guy like me, don’t you?”
    Alton had no idea what his friend was talking about.
    “Fahima knows you and Mallory aren’t umm… sleeping together,” continued David. “She wants us to abstain, too. Thanks a lot!” Despite his friend’s protests, Alton detected respect—not malice—in David’s countenance, and the faintest trace of upward movement appeared on the corners of David’s lips.
    He and Mallory had decided to wait . Alton recalled the occasion on which he had broached the subject with her. They had been here in the condo, enjoying their solitude in the den. She had leaned into an intimate kiss, and Alton had nearly lost himself in the ecstasy. A call to duty, however, pulled him back from the precipice.
    Alton had taken both of Mallory’s hands in his. “Mallory, I’m not sure how to tell you this.” A look of panic in Mallory’s eyes indicated a misinterpretation of his opening statement. “This isn’t a breakup speech,” he added hurriedly. “I love you, and I want to be with you.” Mallory relaxed a bit but still appeared on guard.
    Alton had plowed ahead. “Before we dated, I used to wonder what kind of man deserved to be your boyfriend.” For a moment, he had found it hard to meet her gaze. “Frankly, I didn’t know anyone who deserved you. I used to hope you’d date someone who would honor you in all the ways you deserve to be honored… including the sanctity of marriage.
    “Well, as it now turns out, I’m the guy dating you. I keep thinking about that. So now it’s time to apply those high standards to