“Someone I know wasn’t sleeping. Bubblegum pink lipstick?”
Sid dabbed at the lipstick with a handkerchief but succeeded only in smearing the color. “I’m sure there’s another name for it. An exotic name, I’d wager.”
“Who wears bubblegum pink lipstick?” Danielle’s natural curiosity got the better of her.
“A gentleman never tells.”
“How young was she?”
“Above the age of consent.” Sid gave up on the rescue of the collar. “I must say I don’t care for your insinuation.”
“You’re the one wearing bright pink lipstick. I’ll feel free to insinuate away.”
“I’m also the one with the computer and satellite phone you wish to borrow. Again. For unknown and nefarious reasons.”
“You wish.” Danielle still felt antsy. Mystic had told her he/she/ they would be in touch with her in three or four hours. Almost eighteen hours had gone by since she’d talked with the computer hacker. She had contacted Sid Wright on two other occasions to check her e-mail. “So tell me about the bullet holes.”
“I should keep you in suspense,” Sid groused. “As you have been doing the whole time you’ve been using my equipment.”
“I asked out of politeness,” Danielle protested.
“Politeness?”
“Yes. Either it’s a story that you’ve already broken and you’re champing at the bit to tell it, or it’s a story still in progress and you’re champing at the bit to tell me it’s secret, stupendous, and you can’t tell me about it.”
“So, according to you, either way I’m to exhibit equestrian behavior.”
“An equestrian is a rider, not a horse,” Danielle said. “The word you want is equine. I’m suggesting you’re exhibiting equine behavior.”
“I know what I’m talking about,” Sid growled. “I’m sure you’re mistaken about the word choice. I’m English. We invented the language. You people mutilated it.”
“Only because the English can’t spell.”
Sid cursed.
“What happened to all those gentlemanly habits you were talking about only moments ago?” Danielle asked.
“I reserve them for ladies of breeding.”
“Young ladies who wear bubblegum pink lipstick.”
“You do make it hard for a man to do you a favor, love.”
“The bullet holes,” Danielle prompted.
“Ah yes. Well, the young lady I was with last night was helping me follow up on a lead I’d been pursuing.” Sid glanced at Danielle. “You never said where we were going.”
“Achmed’s,” Danielle replied. Every time she borrowed Sid’s equipment she insisted they park in a different area. She also kept an eye peeled to make certain none of her OneWorld NewsNet coworkers trailed her. Achmed ran an open market that was still operating.
“Fine. I know where it is. The man brews a decent pot of tea when properly motivated.”
“The lead you were pursuing.”
“An interesting story, I think. If anything comes of it, which I doubt.” Sid turned the corner near a building that had been hit more than once by Syrian artillery. Mounds of broken rock and mortar filled the lower floor where earthmovers had shoved the debris back into the building. “According to my sources, one of the independent merchants, a man named Abu Alam, was kidnapped at gunpoint yesterday afternoon.”
“In Sanliurfa?”
“No. Curiously, he seems to have been taken from his group somewhere between this city and the Syrians’ front line.”
“He’s been trading at both ends of the battlefield. I’ve heard of him.”
“Presumably.” Sid nodded and took another puff from his cigarette. “I think Abu Alam had his hand in just about every morally bankrupt way to make a profit that has taken shape in this area, before and after the conflict began. I’ve also been told that he’s kidnapped American and European women who were trapped here in Sanliurfa and sold them to the Syrians.”
“Is there any truth to that?”
“I believe so, love. Can’t have been very many or the stories would be further spread. Plus, Abu Alam tends not to leave anyone behind to bear witness against him when he conducts his little slavery operation. With the ravaged state of this city, I’m sure it’s quite easy to hide a few murders.”
“Sounds like a guy with a lot of enemies,” Danielle commented.
“Oh, Abu Alam does indeed have enemies. But he also has some loyal supporters who are doing their best to find him. He’s family, you see. The Bedouin take their family very seriously.”
“The bullet holes.”
“Exactly. I was just pursuing an interview. His people told me to go away. I didn’t. So they opened fire and shot the Land Rover to show me they meant business. I’m certain they would have shot me, and the young lady next.” Sid looked at her. “Believe me when I say there’s nothing that cuts across a language barrier like gunfire pointed in your direction.”
“You left.”
Sid nodded. “In the straightest route possible and with all available speed.”
Even despite her driving interest in Mystic and why the hacker hadn’t contacted her, Danielle was drawn into the story. “Who grabbed Abu Alam?”
“I didn’t say anyone grabbed him.”
Danielle wrinkled her nose at him. “C’mon. I’m a big reporter girl now. I know bubblegum pink lipstick when I see it, and I know that you wouldn’t be pursuing a story about a black marketer getting nabbed by one of his rivals in the middle of a war zone. The story has a more interesting twist to it than that. If you find out one of the military units has acted on a vendetta or taken improprieties to rob Abu Alam, you’d have a zinger of a story.”
Sid laughed. “You have gotten quite erudite in these matters, haven’t you, dear?”
“Yes. So give.”
“The lead I was following was given to me by a rather disreputable Eastern European man who’s been dealing with scavengers in the city. He hires people to break into empty houses and businesses and take anything of value. They load those valuables—including electronics, household appliances, and furniture—onto trucks—which are also stolen, by the way—and ship them north.”
Danielle was sickened. She’d heard stories about men like that who were doing exactly that kind of theft. The military forces couldn’t stop them because the efforts to shore up the city’s defenses took all their time. They were geared for
