| The Sheiks Of Kumar - Part II The Warrior By CJ |
| Email: Ardethsgal@comcast.net Rating: “R” (sexual content) Note: All characters in the story belong to the author. This story starts toward the end of Part I and solves all the mysteries left unanswered in that story. Kumar is a fictional place and is not part of the UAE. For the record, I also took some fictional license in describing the government/culture of UAE in Part I and in Part II to fit my story (so don’t believe everything I wrote about that area!! lol). Anyway…enjoy! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ |
| The Legend For thousands of years, the symbol of the Armanjani ruling family has been the lion. It represents the strength, nobility and power of the sheiks as well as serving as the protector of their people. It is said, however, that every five centuries, a warrior is born unto the royal family of Kumar that will protect more fiercely than the legend of the lion. He will be the legend, serving his ruler with honor, dignity and bravery. This is a story about such a warrior. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter 1 She watched the man as he sat at the outdoor patio of the coffeehouse in the warm October sun. Light traffic whizzed by on San Francisco’s Friday morning streets. It was late enough that most people were already at work and Shawna Patrick was glad for that meant fewer cars to hinder her view. Her nondescript mini-van was parked on the opposite side of the street and she had the perfect view of her man. Her camera was ready and at the first sight of the “other woman” she’d be ready to start snapping away. Shawna saw the woman, dressed in a maroon business suit with a buttoned jacket and a short skirt, walk down the sidewalk. The man at the coffeehouse dropped his newspaper, stood and smiled. Drawing her camera and focusing on the couple, Shawna was about ready to snap a picture when someone pounded on the side of her van. “Shawna Patrick, I know you’re in there!” a man’s voice shouted. Shawna jumped with a start, nearly dropping her expensive camera with the telephoto lens. Quickly regrouping, she looked through her camera again and yelled, “Go away, Joseph!” The side sliding door to her van opened, bringing in light from outside and a burly male with jeans and a gray sports coat stood in the opening. “You spying on folks again, sis?” her brother asked. Shawna ignored his question and tried to find the couple again. They were sitting now at the table, but she’d missed their greeting. Had her perp kissed the woman or not? She had to have proof of the affair if she was to get paid, or proof that there was no affair. And two people sitting at a table together was proof of nothing. “Damn, you, Joseph!” Shawna quipped. “I missed it.” She set her camera down and glared at her brother. Unlike herself, his hair was dark, like their father’s, but he possessed those same hazel Irish eyes like their other two siblings and their long gone mother. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked. “You wanted me to miss my chance.” “Would I ever do that?” he questioned back with innocence, leaning his hands on either side of the doorframe, and causing his coat to fall open. Shawna could see his silver badge and black gun hooked to his belt under his jacket. “You would do that,” she argued. “Don’t you have a drug dealer to arrest or something?” “Not at the moment,” he drawled. “I’d rather harass my little sister while she plays spy games.” “Spy games? I happen to do legitimate business.” His handsome face pulled a grin. “Oh, yeah. Watching men at coffee houses talking to beautiful women is certainly legitimate. Why don’t you get yourself a real gig? You know I could get you a spot at the city police academy.” It was the same argument she’d heard since she’d graduated from college. She enjoyed her private investigative work. She could make her own hours and the money wasn’t half bad. But two of her older brothers, Joseph and Billy, were both on the San Francisco police force and she knew they wanted her there too so they could keep an eye on her. “What? And end up working with a bunch of stiffs like you and Billy? Not a chance,” she declined. She turned back to her camera and looked at the couple again. They appeared to be gathering their things so she started snapping pictures just in case something interesting happened. Just as the man and woman neared each other, looking as if they may make an interesting exchange, a uniformed male figure walked in front of her window and smiled. She ended up taking a picture of Billy’s skinny, freckled face instead of her subjects. “Damn it all to hell!” she cried. “You two are just trying to ruin my day, aren’t you? Get out of the way, Billy!” When he finally sauntered away from the side window and Shawna focused through her lens again, she found no couple. They were gone and she had no idea in which direction they had left. Dropping her camera on a back seat, Shawna slipped out of the van and met her two brothers on the sidewalk. Detective Joseph Patrick and Officer Billy Patrick had better have airtight explanations for destroying her shot at wrapping this case up. “All right, fess up! Who’s idea was it to blow this job for me?” she asked. They both grinned and then Billy reached out and tousled her dark blonde hair. “It was actually Eddy’s idea,” Billy confessed. “He says your car’s ready at the shop.” Brother number three, Eddy Patrick, was the only one not involved in some form of law enforcement/investigative business. Like their father, Eddy was a mechanic. He owned his own shop on the outskirts of San Francisco and had been doing some body work on her 1969 convertible Mustang that had been dented by an uncoordinated driver the week before. “And he couldn’t have rang me on the cell phone?” she asked. “What? And ruin the surprise of Billy and I getting to pick on our little sister?” Joseph asked back. Shawna frowned, wishing, as usual, that her three brothers treated her like the twenty-eight year old woman she was and not like a ten year old baby sister. But in their eyes, she was afraid they would always see a child. Just then, her cellular phone rang in the front seat and Shawna reached in to answer it, mumbling, “I’ll bet that’s Eddy now and you guys only came down here to interfere with my investigation.” But it wasn’t Eddy, the eldest of the Patrick clan. It was Tara Malone, an old friend of Shawna’s from Calistoga. They had grown up in Calistoga, a small winery town an hour outside of San Francisco, where their father had owned a small mechanic shop. Tara had been one of Shawna’s best friends during high school and even now into adulthood. This call, however, was not a friendly call to set up a lunch date. Tara had a problem. “No, Tara,” Shawna assured her friend, “I can drop everything and be out there in a few hours. I promise its no imposition.” Her friend sounded so shaken, that Shawna knew it was important. Hanging up her phone, she looked at her brothers and said, “I’ve got to go to Calistoga.” “What?” they both asked simultaneously. “Tara Malone needs some help,” she explained. “Tara Malone?” Joseph asked. “Isn’t she that hot friend of yours whose father owns Villa Serena Winery?” Rolling her eyes at her brother’s description, but not denying it, she answered, “Yes. But her father passed away last June and she had to sell the estate.” “So what does she need now?” Billy inquired, he and Joseph always playing detective and interrogating her every move. “She has a problem. I don’t know what it is exactly. But she’s my good friend. If she needs me, I’m going.” “But what about your current case?” Joseph asked. With a devious smile, Shawna reached into her briefcase and pulled out a file. Handing it to Joseph, she said, “Here, you find out if the guy’s cheating or not. I need pictures and a surveillance log.” “Shawna, I can’t do this,” Joseph argued. “Should have thought about that before you tripped me up, huh? Billy can help you.” “We’re not allowed to do private work during our shifts,” Billy argued. “Who’s asking you to do it during your shifts? Do it on your off time.” With her words, her brothers looked at each other and frowned. She laughed, closing the door to her van and drove away. ** Calistoga, California was a small tourist town nestled at the base of picturesque Mount St. Helena. It was known for its scenic wineries, fine restaurants and lavish day spas. But for Shawna, it was home. She’d lived here her entire childhood being raised by a hardworking father and three ornery older brothers. She’d had little feminine influences in her life, for her mother had left when she was quite young. If it wasn’t for her good friend, Tara Malone, Shawna was certain she would know nothing about being a proper woman. She drove her van onto the winery grounds, past the two-story gatehouse and up the winding road through the vines. The main house of Villa Serena could be seen atop a small rise, its red tiled roof and white Spanish stucco easily visible against the green of the vines. But it wasn’t the main house she was going to this trip. It was the stables and the small cottage house that sat a few hundred yards from the white fenced paddocks. Like Shawna, Tara had grown up with little female influence. Her mother had died thirteen years ago while giving birth to Tara’s younger sister, Jenny. Shawna and Tara, both without mothers in their teenage lives, had been left to their own accords in discovering how to be a woman. They’d read fashion magazines together to learn about make-up and clothes and men. But both had found little interest in any of that and each possessed a tomboyish side. Of course, Tara had been raised with a mother for fifteen years and had been given a sense of refinement that Shawna had not been blessed with. Sure, Shawna could fix cars, play soccer and watch football with the best thanks to the influence of her three brothers. But she had learned little of modern fashion and high society aside from what she and Tara had discovered in magazines. And frankly, none of it interested her. What did interest her, however, was staying active and on the go. She jogged three miles every morning, worked out at the gym three times a week and took a drive in the country at least once a month in her classic convertible. She lived the life she wanted, despite the interference of her older brothers, and was happy with her profession. If there was anything she could change, it would be that she had yet to find a person with which to share her life. She wasn’t looking to get married, have three perfect children and settle down in middle-class suburbia. What she wanted was a person who shared her sense of intrigue and passion for activity. She wanted someone who would take those drives in the country with her on the weekends and help her stake-out her suspects during the week. But most men weren’t interested in a partner. At least not the men she’d dated lately. She seemed to be running across the biggest losers that San Francisco had to offer. She found men who were either too weak to keep up with her hectic schedule, or too overbearing to accept her independence. And then there were her brothers. If a man didn’t measure up to their standards, they usually ran him off within a very short time span. She’d lost several good prospects thanks to Billy, Joseph and Eddy and she was determined that the next man she dated would be kept hidden from them for a very long time. Shawna pulled her van into the gravel drive in front of the small white cottage house. As she exited her car, she took a long look around. The main house appeared quiet with no cars in sight. Tara’s tan Jeep Wagoneer sat parked at the side of the stable house and a few Arabian horses nickered in the paddocks as they grazed on grass. A lone male figure walked around the stables and Shawna took a moment to study him. He was a lean man with a black beard and a dark face. He was dressed in clothes that were certainly not American. A long white tunic shirt covered him down to his calves and he wore denim jeans underneath. Upon his head was a covering that she knew was worn in the Middle East, but she was uncertain of its name. The look of the man intrigued her for she wondered just who had bought the estate when Tara had put it up for sale five months ago. It was obvious this man was not an American and she was curious as to what had become of Villa Serena. The man looked at her for a moment, then briskly walked into the barn. Shawna shrugged, then lightly rapped on Tara’s front door. It opened quickly, and Shawna was met by a grave looking Tara. “Oh, thank goodness,” Tara said urgently as she grabbed Shawna’s arm and pulled her inside. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Tara wrapped her arms around Shawna and hugged her fiercely. Shawna knew something was amiss immediately because she and Tara rarely hugged each other in greeting. And the look in Tara’s brown eyes was so opposite the sweet, caring expression they usually held. “Tara, what’s wrong?” Shawna inquired as Tara pulled away. “Is Jenny all right?” The thought of anything happening to Tara’s vulnerable thirteen-year old sister whom Tara was now custodian of frightened Shawna. But when Tara nodded her head, her long brown locks swinging with the movement, Shawna breathed a sigh of relief. “Jenny’s fine,” Tara said. “But I’m beginning to think that something awful happened to she and I both.” Tara paused and pointed to the computer that sat in the corner of the small living room. “I found some strange records on my father’s old PC. I have an idea as to what they mean, but I wanted a professional opinion.” Shawna’s eyes fell on the computer then swept the room. It was tastefully decorated, yet the thought of Tara now relegated to the stable house instead of being mistress of Villa Serena was odd. She hurt for her friend whose family fortune and heritage had disappeared with her father’s untimely death last June. “What do they deal with?” Shawna inquired. “I think they hold some key as to what happened to my father’s money,” Tara explained. “But you know how I am with numbers. I’m only good at horses, not numbers.” Steering her friend to the over-stuffed gray sofa sectional and hearing the distress in her voice, Shawna said soothingly, “How about we take a moment to catch up on what’s happened this summer. It’s been nearly five months since I’ve seen you. Here it is, October, and I don’t even know who bought the estate.” So before she jumped onto the computer, she allowed Tara to explain all that had happened during the summer months and early fall. It was an unusual story, and Shawna found it most intriguing. “The estate sold in August,” Tara explained. “Sheik Nikash Armanjani bought it. He’s the Crown Prince of Kumar of the United Arab Emirates. He let me stay on and I’m helping to keep the stables. His family has some huge oil business and he works in San Francisco and from a home office here.” Tara paused and smiled. “Believe it or not, Nik is really a very kind man.” Shawna watched as her friend reached up and grasped a gold pendant that hung around her neck from a red silk chord. There was a wistful look in Tara’s eyes that Shawna had never seen before and she was positive this sheik had something to do with it. “So, you went out and landed yourself an oil sheik, huh?” Shawna asked. “Not entirely. But he and I are…close.” “United Arab Emirates.” Shawna rolled the name of the country around on her lips. “I guess that would explain that Middle Eastern looking guy I saw at the stables.” “Yes, Jamaal,” Tara said with disgust. “He doesn’t like me. And unlike Nik and the rest of his associates, Jamaal is from Saudi Arabia and very conservative. He and I clash often.” Shawna remembered the harsh assessment the man had thrown her before ducking into the barn, and she silently agreed. Having gotten the preliminary introductions out of the way, Shawna moved to the computer and inquired, “Tell me, what have you found?” Tara took the next half hour with Shawna and browsed through the archived email files, word-processing documents and accounting records stored on her father’s business computer and said, “I think Jenny’s and mine’s fortune was swindled just before father died.” “And any ideas on who may have done it?” Shawna asked. Tara looked down at her friend solemnly and stated, “Yes, Gabe Bryant, my father’s lawyer.” Shawna knew Gabe Bryant, a local lawyer in Calistoga. But she certainly did not know him as well as Tara and her family had. She’d assumed for years that Gabe and Walter Malone had been friends. And maybe they had been until Gabe stole the Malone fortune. Shawna shook such thoughts from her head and reminded herself that she had to be objective and study all the information before jumping to such a conclusion. “Okay,” Shawna said soothingly, “this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to read everything over here. I’m going to make several back-up copies. And then I’ll let you know what I think.” Tara nodded her agreement and remained on the couch, fidgeting for hours while Shawna perused all the documents. And from what Walter Malone had left behind, it became obvious to Shawna that several million dollars had been stored away in overseas accounts just prior to his death. Where that money had disappeared to, however, was going to be the question Shawna had to answer. As for who could have taken the money, Walter Malone’s computer journal left a huge clue—Gabe Bryant. Finally, after reviewing everything, Shawna was in agreement with Tara. They discussed this and just as Shawna was about to formulate a plan of action, the Crown Prince of Kumar, Sheik Nikash Aarif bin Armanjani, phoned. Watching Tara talk with him, Shawna was certain their plan was going to compound. For it became obvious from the first, “I miss you, Nik,” issued from Tara’s lips that she was in love with the new owner of Villa Serena. When Tara finally ended her conversation, Shawna asked where the sheik was. “He’s back in Kumar. There’s some sort of family emergency he’s been attending to for the past few weeks,” Tara explained. “So he won’t be back in the country any time soon?” Shawna asked. Tara shook her head sadly. Shawna smiled. “Good. Because we don’t want him here.” “Why not?” Tara shot out defensively. “Because, Tara, you’re going to have to spend some time with Gabe Bryant.” She watched her friend pale at the suggestion and stand defiantly. “I will not! Gabe’s a weasel. He took my money and forced me to sell Villa Serena because of that.” “Yes, but you also told me that he proposed to you. Let him think you’re interested and considering his proposal and that will give us an opportunity to get close to him. Maybe it can even get you inside his office.” Shawna stood from the computer and added, “Tara, we have to find a way to prove this. Using you as bate is our only hope.” “But Nik,” Tara began. “Nik’s not here right now and this won’t interfere in any way with your relationship with him, I promise.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Warrior - Chapter 2 |
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