Chapter 21: "Behind the Names"

A bit delayed but, I really couldn't write. Also except for Maria (thanks for sticking around 🥰), the rest of y'all were busy anyway. Anyhow, post your reactions as you read. Let's start with a booming comment spam 😍

March 7, 2021

Salma's index finger quickly shot to her lips.

Pointedly staring at her stern finger pressed against her lips - an order to maintain absolute silence - Burak shook his head in amusement. He closed the door behind him, and chuckling, turned to her, quietly raising his brow in a 'what else?' sort of an expression.

Salma jutted her thumb over her shoulder and jerked her head in that direction.

'Get going,' she had said.

Laughing some more, Burak headed towards the exit. Salma fell in step in with him, all too pleased for an excuse to avoid Zayn.

Burak turned to her, pressing his finger against his lips, he gestured with his hands.

"You can talk now." Salma rolled her eyes.

He heaved a dramatic sigh.

"Man!" He exhaled the word. "I have never been placed under a gag order before. Actually, that might be wrong. I think I was. Multiple times too many --"

"Burak Kaka, what exactly were you doing there?" Salma cut him in.

"What do you think?" He raised a brow, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "I was setting up the record straight. You heard us - come to think of it, how much have you heard? Eavesdropping is a sin you know."

Salma looked away, embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"I was just waiting outside," she replied defensively. "Can't turn my hearing off at will, can I now?"

"Of course you can't." Burak Kaka chuckled. "I didn't see you doing what you were waiting for though."

Salma shrugged.

"Changed my mind."

Burak Kaka smiled.

"I have half a mind of going back in and letting him know you chose me over him --"

"You won't!" Salma turned to him with a threatening finger raised in his face - or chest. He was too tall for her to raise it in his face.

Burak Kaka put his hands up in surrender.

"Of course I won't." He feigned an amused innocence. "I'm under a gag order, remember?"

Salma shook her head. How did a troll like him become a legendary Green Coat? A smile tugged at her lips. He was a pleasant company though.

"So . . .?" he continued. "How much have you heard?"

"You were teaching him the reality about you, Lightning Storm!"

A booming laugh echoed across the walls of the hall they were walking through.

"Aw, bless! I really love my parents for this," he said fondly. "Not many can brag of such a super-heroic name."

Salma smiled.

"That's true," she said. "Mine is too meek. Peaceful loving-mercy. Meh, people already know they shouldn't be worried. I should have had an explosive bit somewhere, like thundering loving-mercy, or slapping, kicking, screaming loving-mercy!"

Her quiet chuckle mixed with the roaring one from Burak Kaka. He really was a very rowdy lightning storm.

"It suits you perfectly, though," Burak Kaka said with a soft smile. "And anyone valuing any bit of you; the peaceful bit, or the loving-merciful bit, knows they have to take you more seriously than any of us kicking, screaming, exploding ones. Your type is rarer, Princess. I think that injured moron up there realizes it too."

Salma eyed him with a questioning and a disapproving look. Burak kaka conveniently ignored her disapproval.

"I was interrogating him for any trace of a lie," he said. "He had been expressing distrust about me so I had to double-check on him. He seems pretty loyal to you. I suppose he knows the treasure he didn't value enough."

Salma ignored the last bit, together with the painful pang the bundle of nerves in her stomach received.

"He told dad that you're a snitch?"

"Yep," Burak Kaka said. "Not the first one to say it either."

"Who else did?" Salma frowned.

"Everyone who I have worked with, and know me." He grinned. "Except you. You're too Salma Rahman for that. You know, too peaceful, loving-"

"Why do people think you're a snitch?!" Salma asked, puzzled.

"It's not just me," Burak kaka explained, sounding a bit offended that she thought he was the only one. "All of us at the Green Coats Agency keep an eye on each other and report anything that raises suspicion. Sometimes we tend to keep information to ourselves, at other times, we might pass on false intelligence under perfectly normal situation. We play the devil's advocate all the time. I have a knack for cheating on all of my partners. I love leaving them for the dead --"

Salma's eyes popped out. Burak Kaka laughed at her expression. Was he trolling her again?

"Hey, they do that to me too!" he defended. "It's not just me! You saw Spogmae siding with the injured moron --"

"Don't call him that!" Salma snapped.

"Its normal routine," Burak continued, ignoring her outburst. "All of us are basically a one-person army. There's a lot of compartmentalization. We work alone, even when we're together."

"But why?" Salma asked. The more he talked, the more she was bewildered.

Burak shrugged a shoulder. There was a certain sadness to his apparent indifference.

"Makes it hard to be a snitch, and easy, if and when, one of us turns out to be an actual snitch," he said.

Salma eyed him with confusion.

"I can't be a snitch if everyone I am working with expects me to be one," he explained. "And if I end up being a snitch, no one is surprised, or hurt. They expected it anyway."

Salma looked away, feeling mind-blown as well as strangely uncomfortable.

"That's madness," she whispered.

"Better than getting hurt, honestly," he replied. "Trusting someone is putting yourself in the most vulnerable position so far as that person is concerned. Then when they betray you . . ."

Salma watched as Green Coat pressed his lips together and shook his head. There was this distant look in his sharp eyes. A look of deep sadness and anger. He scoffed at whatever he had been thinking.

"It hurts," he simply said.

Salma looked away, feeling her heart stab. In a way, she could relate. She had no idea of the extent of the pain the Green Coat had been through, the seriousness of the betrayal or the kind of loss he had suffered as a result of it, but in a small way, she could relate. She had subconsciously trusted someone, a stranger, to respect her, and when he did not, the hurt had haunted her like she had never been haunted before. And it was just a stranger. What if she had trusted him as a friend, or learned to love him.

A tremble raked up Salma's spine, shaking her very soul.

"Earth to Princess!" Burak Kaka said loudly.

Salma jolted to the present, much to Green Coat's amusement. She realized they were back in the main hall of the Health Unit. And it was just as lively and full of rushing medics as it was when she had arrived earlier. To make matters worse, everyone was looking at the pair of them. Salma, in particular.

"What?!" Salma asked, then nudging closer she whispered angrily. "Don't call me Princess, you know it could land me in trouble! We aren't royalty!"

Burak Kaka laughed in reply.

"So, what do you plan on doing," he asked, "now that you've chickened out of a meeting with the injured --"

Salma shot him a glare.

"--him," he corrected himself, rolling his eyes at her.

However, before Salma could respond, they were interrupted by his ringing phone. Burak Kaka frowned as he pulled his phone out of the inner pocket of his coat. Salma raised a brow when his features lit up.

"Haticé!" he exclaimed at the screen of his phone with much enthusiasm. "Aşkım!"

"Nasılsın, Canım?" a feminine voice replied equally excitedly.

Okay . . .? Salma looked around awkwardly. She did not know much Turkish but Janim was enough for her to know the time it was.

Time to go!

Salma was just about to quietly fall out of step at the very next turn when Burak Kaka reached for her shoulder, stopping her.

"Haticé, do you remember Pwincess?"

"Huh?"

Quicker than Salma could decipher, he had swiftly brought his phone in front of her. Salma stiffened when the Green Coat lowered himself behind her to be on her shoulder level. Too focused on his arm around her, Salma almost missed the fact that a beautiful smiling face was curiously peering at her from the screen of his phone.

"Princess Sally," Burak Kaka said next to her ear, making her jump. "My wife."

The hell?!

Salma's neck almost snapped when she turned to face him, only to find him smiling at his phone with a lot of affection swimming in his usually sharp eyes. Salma glanced at his phone just in time to see the lady waving at her.

"Salamo 'Alaikom!" she greeted Salma in a heavily laden Turkish accent and a full-blown smile.

Salma blinked, trying to find her voice. She cleared her throat.

"Wa Alaikom Assalam," she croaked awkwardly. She forced her eyes to crinkle to return the woman's smile, half her gaze still too focused on Burak's arm that was inches from her bicep.

"Do you remember me? You were too small when we met but --"

"She remembered me!" Burak Kaka told Haticé with much excitement.

"Really?" The lady seemed surprised. "Aw, now if you only remember my husband and not me I'll be upset."

Husband? Salma blinked, until it hit her stupid brain. This lady was Burak Kaka's wife, and when he had said 'Princess Sally, my wife' he had meant to introduce Hatice as his wife!

A part of her died with embarrassment. What exactly was wrong with her? As she glanced at Burak Kaka's arm, Salma blamed her insanity on her discomfort due to his close proximity.

"You okay?" Hatice frowned at her through the camera with concern.

"Huh?" Salma forced herself awake. "Oh yeah, no I was just trying to remember you."

"She doesn't remember you, Hatice!" Burak Kaka chuckled over her head.

"That's not --"

"Don't mind him," Hatice quickly reassured her. "He's just an oversized kid. You were too small and we only met a couple of times, anyway."

"Yeah, you actually introduced me to my favorite person on earth." Burak Kaka smiled fondly at his wife.

Salma felt a smile tugging at her lips at the warmth in his expressions.

"I did?"

"Yeah," Haticé replied. "You were ill, and guess who was the GP who nursed you back to health?"

"Me, of course." Burak Kaka grinned, looking smug.

"I doubt it." Salma chuckled.

"You're right to doubt it," Haticé said. "He had no idea how to handle you and had to contact me."

"Hey, it's not my fault she was a handful!" Burak Kaka defended.

"Lies," Haticé contradicted, waving her hand to dismiss his defense. "You were the most cooperative child I'd ever met."

"When was this exactly?" Salma asked.

"You were - I don't know, three? four years old?" Haticé looked at her husband.

"Four or five, I think?" Burak replied. "I don't know. She was tiny though. Tiny and dirty when I found her."

"And what does that mean?" Salma scowled at Burak Kaka.

As if realizing for the very first time that he was a bit too close to her, Burak Kaka pushed back a little, and gestured for Salma to hold the phone. Salma figured the excitement of seeing his wife had made him overlook things. Handing her the phone, he finally removed his arm from around her. Salma breathed a sigh of relief.

"You were trained to paint dirt on your teensy tiny face," he replied, pocketing his hands.

"Yeah, I believe that," Salma replied with an eye roll.

"No, I'm not kidding," he said in all seriousness. "This was a defense mechanism and it worked."

"Worked how?" Salma questioned incredulously. She looked between Burak Kaka and his wife on the screen.

"You know you got lost when you were young, right?"

"No."

"So--" Burak Kaka stopped and frowned at her prompt 'no'. "You don't know when you had to be left to your designs and you got lost?"

Salma shook her head. "Why would you leave a kid like that?"

"That's what I've said a hundred times," Haticé added. "Also, you didn't just get lost. He forgot to mention that you ended up in Pakistan."

"What?!"

"A whole different country. Imagine!" Haticé expressed her disbelief.

"Well, no, hold on a minute," Burak Kaka intervened. "I was going to tell her and also, it wasn't totally random. She didn't just crawl into a plane and fly over the Himalayas to another country."

"How did it happen then?" his wife challenged. "Weren't you tasked to go to Pakistan and search for her in some random bazaar --?"

"Exhibition," Burak corrected. "It was a gemstone exhibition and it was not random. I knew exactly which --"

"What happened?" Salma interrupted the two, itching to know more.

"Well, where do I start --?"

"How about when you left the kid to her own designs?" Haticé suggested. Her tone expressed that she still could not believe the Green Coats would do that.

"No, not there," Burak replied, then turned to Salma. "So you know your aunt was married - kidnapped, basically - into the Tor Guls after Lady Nimrah's death, and Agha Gul found out that you were the Guardian of the Zamarud?"

Salma threw a quick, cautious glance at Haticé.

"She knows already," Burak Kaka added. Haticé smiled.

"I'm in on all your secrets." Haticé winked.

Burak Kaka cleared his throat. "Not all, but anyway . . ."

"Right," Salma said awkwardly. "But yeah, I know that story."

"Then you would also know that you became that cunning man's next target and he was going to get his filthy claws on you," Burak Kaka continued. "I don't know what he intended on doing exactly. Maybe imprison you till you were old enough to grant him the Zamarud or something. But in any case, a few years after Lady Nimrah's murder, the Rahman family was trapped in a very well designed conspiracy of sorts. Your father got the wind of it, but it was already too late. They were neck deep in trouble --"

"What happened?" Salma asked keenly.

Burak waved a hand dismissively.

"Nothing out of ordinary. Political mud-slinging that had the public turned against your family," he said, "but that's another story. Point is, choices were limited. The whole family could not fly out to safety. It would have made matters worse, but you could not be allowed to stay so the answer was simple."

"What?"

"To smuggle you out of the country," Hatice provided.

"It seemed simple until every attempt at taking you out of the country was foiled," Burak Kaka added. "Agha Gul had been very, very thorough. He was determined not to be outsmarted. His pet, Toryal - man it annoys me to be reminded of how he toyed with us! He had studied all of your dad's moves and would literally be there with a counter, waiting for him to try to take you out of Agha Gul's reach. It was frustrating week. I still remember the agitation. As things got worse, it started getting clear. We either lose or roll the dice."

"Roll the dice?" Salma asked. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly that," Haticé answered. "You make every move on the roll of the dice. Make it completely random and unpredictable. Tell me if this ain't mad!"

"Mad, but genius!" Burak said. "A key was printed on your dress. Every Green Coat, every place and every move was assigned a number on the dice. Four pieces of dice were worn by you as a necklace. The only order was to allow you to roll the dice to decide your faith."

"So I determined where I went?"

"And with who and how?" Burak nodded. "You rolled the dice first, and your father handed you to the Green Coat you chose. You rolled it again and determined where you'd go next and by what mode of transportation."

"That's complete and utter madness!" Salma exclaimed. "Someone could have cheated. I could have been killed, abducted, sold, enslaved --" Salma was at a loss of words. "Anything could have happened?! I could have ended up in Tor Mahal!"

"Tell me about it!" Haticé agreed through the phone.

"Desperate times." Burak shrugged. "And it worked, didn't it? It drove Toryal crazy!" He laughed, reminiscing.

Salma figured he obsessed over upping Toryal.

"So I ended up in Pakistan by literally rolling a dice?"

"Yeah, taking a mud bath when I found you." Burak grinned.

"What for?"

"See, you were little but your training began quite early," Burak Kaka explained. "So you were taught some simple and effective tricks to conceal your identity. In the events of you ending up on your own, alone and scared, you were taught, 'roll in the dirt and a fairy will come to save you.'"

"No way!" Salma said with an incredulous laugh.

"And guess which fairy found you busy in a mud pool, cupping handfuls of filth and channeling Picasso on your dress and face?"

"Not you!" Salma shook her head.

"Ain't I a pretty fairy?" Burak Kaka bated his eyelashes.

"My God," she whispered, mind-blown. She still had a hard time accepting the story he narrated. He was probably trolling her again. And his wife was in on it.

"I still have the picture of you," Haticé said fondly. "Such a cute lil chubba cheeks being a mud monster - wait, let me find it. I'll send it to you."

"You took pictures?!" Salma cried in disbelief. "What did you do that for?"

Burak laughed, finding her disbelief and embarrassment amusing.

"I had to pretend to be a photographer covering that event," he replied. "Also, I didn't know how the mud monster would react so I had to approach you cautiously, without agitating you and causing suspicions of the onlookers."

"But how did you find me?"

"You were missing for weeks, you see," Burak replied. "Just rolling about with the dice. After the storm in Sthooriya settled down a little, Atif Lala followed through the chain of Green Coats, asking where you went, how and with whom. It was found that the last Green Coat had smuggled you to Pakistan. Atif Lala couldn't leave so I was tasked to find you and take you to safety. The day I approached the Green Coat who had taken you last, was the day that he was found by one of the Tor Gul snakes. Deeming it best to lose you before taking the Tor Gul off his scent, he left you at the exhibition. When I made contact with him, he told me to look for you at the exhibition and guess what I found?"

"What happened to the Green Coat?" Salma asked.

"Always focused on the wrong questions, princess," Burak mumbled. Salma scowled at him. "He was fine. Shaking the Tor Gul off his tail, he was the one to inform your dad of your last dice move; she's flown to Turkey with Burak. Don't we just love happy endings?!"

Burak grinned at her.

"I sent you the picture," Haticé said. "Check it out."

Salma held the phone at him. Burak frowned in concentration as he tapped the screen a few times.

"Aw man, would you look at that!" He chuckled.

Salma turned to the phone to find, much to her embarrassment, a tiny version of herself, smiling at the camera, caked with mud.

"Look at that adorable wrinkle nose!" Haticé cooed.

Salma felt her face growing warm. Yeah, she looked cute, but --

"You actually resemble -"

"Yeah, she does," Burak quickly agreed with his wife. "Quite a lot."

"He had a nickname for you," Haticé continued. "I don't know the Pukhto for it - what was the word, Burak? Something for bundle or something?"

Burak let out one of his booming laughs, making Salma jump.

"Oh yeah, I remember!" he said excitedly. "Pundookey!"

"Excuse me?!" Salma blinked.

"You were such an adorable lil bundle of joy when you were tiny," Burak said, wrinkling his nose trying to express his adoration. "It fit you perfectly. All of us started calling you Pundookey after he nicknamed you --"

"He?!" Salma asked. "He who?"

"He-who-shall-not-be-named!" Burak Kaka tried to humor her.

"Kaka --"

"Your dad, your dad!" Burak Kaka replied quickly.

Salma thought she saw the two exchanged a quick glance. Haticé looked confused and Burak's stare was one of warning.

"Your father visited Burak once he could." Haticé smiled. "He stayed for about a month or so. I remember Burak crying his eyes out when you had to leave."

"I did not!"

"He did! He did!" Haticé giggled. "He cried so much. And that is when I decided I had to marry him."

Burak looked away, a smile playing on his lips. He shook his head, his cheeks tainted pink.

"Such lies," he muttered.

Salma found his embarrassment cute.

"Nope!"

"Alright!" he conceded half-heartedly. "May be a tear or two, but it wasn't full on crying! I couldn't help it when this tiny mud monster just clung to me and wouldn't let go."

"Or did she?" Salma laughed quietly. Haticé kept embarrassing him.

"Y'all are annoying. I got to go now," he tried to rescue himself. "görüşürüz, canım!"

Waving at his phone, he cut the video call. Salma stepped aside as a few Green Coats passed by them.

"Well, playtime's over, Princess. I have to go back to work."

Salma was strangely aware of the two Green Coats passing her weird looks over their shoulder.

"Burak Kaka you can't call me that!"

"Call you what?" he asked casually, pocketing his phone.

"Princess!"

"Why?"

"Because I'm not, and you'll get me in trouble!"

"I disagree --"

"But --"

"Alright then, I'll go with the original name for you, Pundookey!"

Salma's eyes did a double-take.

"You'll call me what?!" she cried, mortified.

"Pundookey!" he repeated with a grin. "You know, a bundle."

Oh no. Her heart sank. She just stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

"Anyways, Pundookiya, I --"

"You shall not call me that!" Salma glared at him.

"Whatever you say, Pundookey!" He grinned.

"Just stick to Salma."

"Nah, imma stick to Pundookey," he said in all seriousness. "Dera Manana, Pundookiya! For reminding me of the name!"

Waving at her, he turned towards his office.

Salma's shoulders slumped. She made a crying face.

What have I done?

Author's Note:

Hope you guys had a good Eid 😊. I know y'all are waiting for Zalma to hit it off, but be patient. I promise whatever happens will satisfy you - rather I hope it does😅. Just let the story take it's course.

Also, Maria inquired about Claire, Niall and Will. Will is mostly gone in this book. He's studying in MIT. Claire and Niall will have some appearances. Once more, this book is a thriller, with more focus on Salma and her ancestral drama, and her relationship dynamics with Zayn, then romance and family drama. Although that will be addressed in the peripheries.

Hope you will enjoy it nonetheless.

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Lots of Love

J.