Free Beyond The Limit by Lindsay McKenna

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    â€œMajor, do you ride camels?”
    Ahmed scowled. “The sheik wants to know if you ride camels.”
    Pete grinned and shook his head. “No, sir, I don’t. Why?”
    Instead of translating correctly, Ahmed said, “He hates the smelly, hairy beasts, my lord.”
    Cali coughed. Hesam poured more coffee into the cup near her knee and offered it to her in response.
    Thanking him, she sipped the thick, fragrant brew. She quirked her mouth and glanced at Ahmed, who looked back at her with hatred in his eyes. “My lord,” she said in Pashto, “for whatever reason, the translator is not sharing the major’s exact words with you. He said he’s never ridden a camel. He did not call them smelly, hairy beasts.” She held Ahmed’s dark, narrow eyes. The man looked as if he wanted to strangle her.
    â€œAh, good, good.” Hesam smiled benevolently at Pete, then turned and scowled at Ahmed. “You will tell the major that I invite him to ride with me tomorrow afternoon to see my herd of racing camels.” He turned to Cali and smiled. “And you, my dear, are also invited.”
    Cali nodded. “I’d love to ride with you, my lord. Thank you for the honor.”
    Ahmed turned and muttered the English version to the major.
    Pete grinned. “Well, I’ve never ridden a camel, sir, but I’d sure like to try. It sounds like fun. Thanks.”
    Cali watched as Ahmed accurately translated that message to the warlord.
    â€œGood, good,” Hesam said, rising. “I must go, but I invite you to remain, eat, drink and then leave when you feel like it. I have pressing obligations, and we can talk tomorrow as we ride to see my racing camels. Farewell.” He shook each of their hands before he left.
    Â 
    C ALI WAITED UNTIL A HMED left Pete’s trailer. A white Roland pickup truck, driven by Hakim, would take the translator to the trailer he shared with three other Afghan workers.
    â€œMay I come in for a minute, Major?” she asked.
    Pete stood at the top of the stairs. “Sure, come on in.”
    â€œThanks.” Cali climbed up the steps, wiping her dusty boots before entering. She closed the door behind her and followed Pete as he ambled to the kitchen.
    â€œListen, I may be way out of line here, Major, but I need to say something.”
    He frowned. “Of course. What is it?”
    â€œI don’t know what’s going on with Ahmed, but he’s not translating accurately. He nearly got you in hot water with the sheik and you didn’t even know it.” Cali watched as Pete poured a glass of water and drank it. He offered her some, but she declined.
    â€œOkay,” he said, “let’s talk about this in the living room.”
    Cali sat down on the couch, her hands clasped between her legs as she leaned forward. Pete sat at the table. “Kerwin Elliot told you I know Pashto, Arabic and a number of other local languages, Major Trayhern. You can’t run a construction site too long and not learn the languages.”
    â€œYou spoke beautifully to the sheik when you entered the audience room.” Pete saw her cheeks grow pink at the compliment. Cali was captivating. And he savagely reminded himself she was completely off-limits.
    â€œThanks. What I need to say is probably going to upset you, but your translator made you sound like an eighth grader to the sheik. Also, he left you high and dry regarding common, expected protocols.” Cali launched into a recital of Ahmed’s many mistakes. She saw Pete’s eyes narrow, his expression grow thoughtful as she finished.
    â€œAhmed seems pretty intense. And I saw him glare in your direction a number of times,” Pete admitted. “I wondered why he was angry at you.”
    â€œBecause I’m a woman in a man’s world, and around here, women don’t do business with men. But Hesam knows I’m number two person on this project, and