Chapter 218
758 Words
Beth waited, just looking at him quietly, and he began to speak again:
“We’d heard from one of our informants that women in this one part of the city were organizing a kind of Black Widow movement. You know what that is?”
“If it’s anything like the Chechen Black Widows, sure. Women who have lost their husbands to war are being recruited to take out the adversaries. Same thing?”
“Exactly the same.” Jim sighed. “Female suicide bombers working for the Taliban are no new thing – just ask Chris about that – but the women involving their kids? Nobody saw that coming.”
“Their kids?”
“Yeah.
“Wait.” Beth stared at him. “You mean Tahir’s mother was a bomber?”
“Oh, yeah… a hardcore, angry, dedicated one. And he told me about it.”
“He did?”
“Uh-huh. Walked right up to me in the street while I was on patrol, told me in semi-decent English.”
“What did you do?”
“His mother ran out after him, and when I questioned her, she was totally amused and relaxed. She just laughed and told me that Tahir had one hell of an active imagination. Kids, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, I checked into her, but nothing came up. At the time, intelligence didn’t know that her husband had been killed by an American drone strike, so we had no motivations for Fazela to hate us. In fact, everyone I talked to about her said that she was a great woman, a great Mom. She did some translation work for us sometimes, and was helpful in some difficult conversations. She seemed so… so normal.”
“I can see that.”
“So I ignored the kid, even when he told me again. And again. He kept insisting that Fazela was going to do something bad, and he wanted me to stop her.”
“Why didn’t you believe him?”
“Because I trusted his mother, who as it turns out was an Oscar-worthy f*****g actress. I trusted the military intelligence about her being on our side. I trusted myself to know better than a messed-up kid being raised in a war zone.”
Beth nodded. “But he was right?”
“He was right,” Jim said heavily. “Fazela strapped on a suicide vest under her burqa, took Tahir by the hand, and detonated it right in front of the main gate to the American Embassy. Took out three Marines, two staff members, herself – and Tahir.”
Beth was frozen with horror. “Jim… my God.”
“My fault,” he said, his voice huskier than usual. “All my fault. I had a kid standing right there in front of me, begging me to hear him, begging me to help him. And I just – just ignored him. I was so f*****g stupid, and because of me, people died… including an innocent five-year-old who counted on me to keep him safe. He trusted me, and he shouldn’t have.” He swallowed. “Ever since then, I haven’t trusted anyone besides the guys, and I think that nobody should f*****g trust me to protect them. Or to do anything that involves me making a decision, really.” He gazed at her. “How do you trust me, Beth? Why do you? I just – I don’t understand it sometimes.”
Beth reached for Jim now, not sure if he’d let her hold him. To her surprise, he did: he rolled over into her embrace, his face hidden in her shoulder. She felt dampness against her skin, and she knew he was crying. He didn’t let her see his eyes, but he knew she knew that he was broken and vulnerable.
She stroked his hair. “I trust you, babe, completely and totally, because you make me feel safe. You always have, right from the beginning, and you did it when nobody else could.” She kissed his forehead. “All you’ve ever wanted to do was help me – and that’s all you’ve ever done, even when I fought you. You never stopped being there for me.”
He closed his eyes and let himself be comforted like a child. Beth’s sweetness surrounded him, made him feel enclosed in a soft, gentle place. She didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need her to. Her touch was enough; her faith was everything.
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