Chapter 29: "Fresh Contact"

Author's Note: I know! I know! I'm at fault! I'll explain in the A/N. Enjoy the update first😬

The media included in this chapter is a work of @omargdraws on twitter.

Blast it off with comments as you go! 💥 Enjoy!

First draft: March 2018

"Thank you," Salma muttered, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the cup as she accepted it.

"Pleasure." Zayn smiled softly.

Salma felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. No matter how many times they did it, she still felt this embarrassing shyness overwhelm her sometimes. It was just a cup of coffee, she would remind herself.

Yeah, but imagine fumbling and accidentally spilling it over his shirt, her subconscious snickered.

Salma pressed her lips together to avoid bursting into laughter.

Shut up!

I said accidentally. . .

"You're not going?" Zayn asked.

Salma snapped out of the stupid conversation she was having with her head to realize Zayn was eyeing her questioningly.

"Oh, no, I, um, I don't have a class today," Salma replied. "The professor is on a leave."

Zayn's face brightened at the possibility but then hesitated. He was not sure if he dared entertain the thought that was crossing his head.

"So . . ?" he began uncertainly. "You have any other engagements?"

Salma frowned.

"Not really," she replied with a shrug, until it dawned on her. "Oh, I – I just, I mean --"

"Wanted a coffee and the coffee-maker at home was broken?" Zayn provided.

Salma considered his words then nodded slowly, biting back a smile.

"Let's just go with that," she replied, avoiding his gaze once again.

Zayn's face threatened to split into a huge grin. She had all but confirmed she was there just to do the coffee ritual. Salma hoped he would appreciate the lengths she was going to, to make this madness work, because truth be told, a 'Salma' missing on some extra hours of sleep was a 'Salma' unheard of.

"If you don't really have any other plans, join me on my coffee break on the grounds?" Zayn jerked his head at the benches.

Salma wiggled her toes nervously. She had just wanted to grab the coffee and then hit the library or drive back home but --

Salma inhaled a deep breath and forced a smile. "Okay then."

Zayn almost fist-bumped the air. However, remembering Snob calling him a 'simp' made him suppress another one of his grins by taking a sip of his drink. He started making his way to the canopy at the far end of the grounds.

"You don't have a class today?" Salma asked, falling in step with him.

"I only picked one course this semester," Zayn replied. "So, no."

"So the other days . . . you come around because you want coffee and the coffee-maker at home is broken?"

A sudden fit of laughter almost had Zayn spraying the passersby with his coffee. Salma gave him a tissue.

"Well, that's embarrassing." Zayn cleaned the little drink he had spilled on his hand, then tossed the dirty tissue into a trashcan in the passing. "Thank you."

"No problem," Salma replied.

Zayn slipped in on one of the benches. Salma took a seat on the opposite bench. Dreading the uneasy silence that was bound to settle between them, Salma started talking about the first thing that popped in her mind.

"How was your weekend?" she asked. "Hopefully you had no trouble from Toryal."

She was going to spend time in his company, she figured she might as well keep talking to keep her cool and not think too much into it.

"Everything is fine. Alex is taking care of it," Zayn replied with a reassuring smile. If he felt suspicious of her questions, he did not show it.

"So no shady run-ins?"

"None too serious."

Salma paused and turned him, perturbed.

"It's all good," Zayn reassured her again. "I just met Alex at Claire's party the other night. Everything is fine. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," Salma muttered, staring at her cup. "I'm just really worried. Toryal is really manipulative, you know."

A heavy silence settled between them for a few minutes as the both of them thought about the predicament they were in. Salma heard him sigh deeply.

"You know what, forget about that depressing pile of trash," he said, taking his phone out. "Here, help me decide upon a concept for my next assignment."

Salma pulled herself out of her miserable thoughts as Zayn put his phone next to her cup. He started swiping through some of his artwork.

"The theme is supposed to be any of 'the lesser known cultures in a futuristic world'. I've come up with a few concepts but I'm not sure which one to go with."

For the next couple of minutes, Salma marveled at the absolute genius that was Zayn's 'concepts'. The pieces were breathtaking. They were short clips of sorts and there was something magical about how beautifully he had blended together ancient cultures with this cyberpunk, futuristic world. All thoughts of Toryal and the ten thousand spies, agents and murderers that the Tor Guls had seemingly plastered to her tail, left her mind.

Zayn sat back, watching her awed expressions with amusement. Judging by the song playing in the background, she was watching the same clip over and over again.

"This one!" Salma cried, completely fascinated as she replayed the clip yet again.

Zayn bit back a smile. This was the fifth time Bibi Sheereenay was repeated in the background.

"The one with a truck hovering over the city underneath it?" Zayn laughed. "I had a feeling you'd like that."

"Like that? I love it! It's got so many pukhtoon elements to it and yet, it's so other-worldy. There's this Harry Potter meets Iron Man sort of thing going on! It's awesome!"

Zayn's eyebrows shot up at her weird comparison.

"What?" He chuckled.

"You know what I'm saying," Salma cried with excited impatience. "The dirty, grubby drive-in gives the Leaky Cauldron vibes, so you think 'Cool! wizards flying by in the 'Knight Trucker!'' And then there's this arc-reactor under the truck and the song playing in the background and you're like 'Ah! A Pukhtoon Iron Man is out to get a plate of Chapli Kebabs.'"

Zayn threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"You know what," he said, still laughing. "I should have recorded that and added it as a commentary in the background."

"Missed your chance." Salma smiled. "I love this clip. Can I send it to me?"

"Sure," Zayn replied, feeling excited, until she picked up her phone and he saw her turning on the blue-tooth. He deflated. She was just too careful.

"How can someone be so skilled with all of their limbs?" Salma asked, watching the progress bar as the file transmitted to her phone. "You've hit upon some sort of a hack?"

"It's a secret." Zayn winked.

"Show off!"

As Zayn laughed yet again, Salma shook her head in amusement and picked up her drink. Things were running smoothly between them. If she could control her nerves, maybe it won't be so bad to have him around more often. She smiled and sat back, relaxing in his company until --

Zayn held his hand to her.

"What? Oh sorry --" Salma quickly picked up the phone and gave it to him.

Zayn placed the phone on the table next to him, muttered a thanks and held his hand again.

Salma raised a brow. Did he expect her to give him her phone? Perhaps he was fishing for her number.

Tough luck, dude!

"My phone? That's not happening--"

"No."

Okay?

Salma blinked at him. He smiled.

"Your hand."

Her heart skipped a beat.

What?

She froze when Zayn rested his elbow on the table, his hand held towards her.

"Zayn, I . . ."

"Come on, hold my hand."

Salma hesitated. She could feel Zayn's eyes on her, but she could not bring herself to meet his gaze. Zayn tilted his head, watching her with the same fond expression.

"Bee?"

Swallowing, Salma undid her clasped hands. Her fingers shook slightly as she lifted her hand to his at a snail's pace. Zayn waited with bated breath, his small smile unfaltering but his unsteady heart beating at a rapid pace.

Her fingers brush against his. A foreign feeling shot up her arm. Instinctively, Salma retracted. The slight caress of her fingers made a budding warmth engulf Zayn's heart. Resisting the urge to pull her hand away completely, Salma eased it so the tips of her fingers rested against his. Her pulse quickened when the same tingling crawled up her arm again. She avoided his intense gaze, wondering if he had felt it too.

Not content with just the smooth tips of her fingers placed against his, Zayn reached out and wrapped his fingers around her slender ones. Salma visibly shuddered as she fought against snatching her hand away. Zayn, on the contrary, was barely holding himself against interlocking their hands and drawing her closer. His heart was fluttering with all kinds of feelings. He could feel her quickening pulse just under her soft fingers and it made his very cells buzz.

"Alright," Salma muttered, still looking away, "you can let go now."

Zayn smiled, securing his hold just a little tighter.

"Don't want to."

Salma's shoulders stiffen. Chuckling, Zayn loosened his grip, allowing her to pull her hand away. Which Salma did, promptly. Discreet as she could be about it, Salma rubbed her still tingling fingers against her leg to stop the feeling.

***

"Will you stop it?!" Sarah snapped, "You'll get them blistered."

"What?" Salma asked, perplexed.

Sarah raised an incredulous brow. It took Salma a while to realize she had started rubbing her fingers against her leg again. Salma looked at her fingers. They tickled, making her press them close together.

"I can't help it. They're feeling weird," Salma complained.

"Itchy?"

"No, not itchy. Just weird."

"You must have touched something you're allergic to." Sarah frowned, studying her fingers closely. "Did you chase bugs in the bushes again?"

Salma blushed.

"No, it was Zayn," she muttered, then realized what Sarah had said and she snapped. "And I don't chase bugs, they come to me!"

"If, by bugs, you mean Zayn, I agree." Sarah shrugged. Salma scowled at her, but before she could complain Sarah continued, "what I don't get is, why are trying to rub your fingers sore?"

"They feel weird."

Sarah blinked for minute. Then her eyebrows shot up as she put two and two together.

"Cringing, makes-you-feel-sick kind of a weird?"

"No . . ." Salma frowned.

"Tingling? Ticklish kind?"

"Yeah," Salma cried, as if scared she was about to be told she had contracted a terrible disease.

Sarah turned back to her laptop, a shadow of a mysterious smile playing on her lips

"Stop scratching," she muttered.

***

First Draft: April 13th, 2019

Spogmae walked Salma through the many shelves lining the make-shift gym in the basement.

"Pick a weapon," she said casually.

Salma's eyes roamed over all kinds of weapons on display. The place was littered by guns and blades in all shapes and sizes. Salma turned her back on the deadly machines, walking away. Spogmae cocked her head. Salma passed by an assortment of nun-chucks, sickles, sticks and Bo staffs. She picked up a Bo staff.

Spogmae scoffed.

"What?" Salma asked.

"You're learning to defend yourself and you pick up the least lethal weapon you find on the shelf?" Spogmae raised a brow.

Salma looked at her weapon of choice.

"I'm learning to defend myself not to murder people," she replied.

"Sometimes you'll have to shoot people to defend yourself." Spogmae replied, jerking her head to the shelf behind her. "Pick a gun."

"I'm not a killer," Salma reiterated.

"You don't necessarily have to kill," Spogmae countered. "You just have to shoot."

"And potentially kill?" Salma raised a brow. "I'm not touching one of those things."

Spogmae studied her with a curious look in her eye. Salma felt uncomfortable.

"You will have to," the Green Coat said slowly.

"I'm not comfortable."

"Oh, just think of them as automated arrows." Spogmae waved a dismissing hand.

"Right?" Salma smiled. "I'll just stick to the Bo staff. Thank you."

"You'll do as I tell you to do."

"I'm not using a gun," Salma repeated stubbornly.

Straight back, hands behind her, the Green Coat took measured steps towards Salma, looking very intimidating.

"First lesson for you as an agent under training," Spogmae continued. "Learn to respect and obey your superior. You don't question. You just follow."

Salma swallowed. The hard stare the Green Coat was fixing her with made her nervous about the lessons. Yet, she gathered her wits.

"First of all, I'm not being trained as an agent or a soldier, so there's that," Salma said, setting the record straight. "Secondly, I only follow the One above the seven heavens. Other than that, I do as I please."

"Fine," Spogmae breathed the word out. "Here's how it goes, you either pick a gun, or you leave because I do things my way."

Salma held a stare down contest for a few seconds. Spogmae may be intimidating and super awesome, but in that moment Salma realized she could stand her ground for what she believed in, no matter who was in her way. She put the Bo staff back on shelf.

"Well, thank you," Salma said, pursing her lips. "I'm pretty sure I can find myself another trainer."

Nodding at the lady Green Coat one last time, Salma was all too keen on getting away from her intimidating presence as she made her way to the door of the basement.

"Hold it!"

Salma's foot froze mid-step upon Spogmae's commanding tone.

Damn, that girl has some serious superimposing presence! She cursed in her head.

"Turn around," came the order, softer this time.

Salma's shoulder slumped. Hoping she was not about to be hung upside down for insubordination, she faced the Green Coat, surprised to see a slight smirk playing on her lips.

Uh oh!

"Tell me something, who's the boss, you or your dad?" Spogmae asked, picking up the Bo Staff.

Salma considered her question.

"Right now?" Salma asked. "I'm the boss."

Spogmae chuckled, amused.

"Get back here." She wiggled her fingers, beckoning her closer. Salma walked over cautiously. She became suspicious when the Green Coat handed her the Bo Staff. "You got quite the attitude; I'd like to beat it out of you."

Salma's eyes popped out when her words settled in. The smirking Green Coat picked another Bo Staff from the shelf, making Salma gulp nervously.

Ya Allah, help me!

"You might want to go easy on me," Salma said, glancing at the Green Coat out of the corner of her eye.

"Uh huh? And why is that?" Spogmae inspected the staff in great detail.

"I'm . . . fragile?"

"Cuteness won't work on me. Take your shoes off and get on the mat."

Death, here I cometh . . . Salma thought miserably.

"Thing is, we would train differently," Spogmae began out of blue. "I, your father and your uncles, but then again, you're not an agent."

"Even Uncle Dawood?" Salma asked, untying her shoes. "I really can't imagine him with a gun."

"That's not the uncle I was talking about."

"Then who were you talking about?" Salma frowned.

Spogmae didn't answer as she got busy with fixing the mats.

"Do you mean Uncle Hurayra?" Salma pressed.

Spogmae took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Yes" she said finally. "We trained together. He was always really competitive."

A rueful smile was playing on her lips. Salma realized she and her uncle were really close. Perhaps she liked him?

"You really miss him, don't you?" Salma asked.

To her surprise, the Green Coat laughed.

"Oh, he's hard to miss when his annoying existence is always around."

Salma blinked.

What?

"Do you know what Hurayra means?" Spogmae asked, noticing her puzzled expression.

Yes," Salma replied frowning. "A cat."

"And do you know what's said about cats and dying?"

Salma shook her head and shrugged.

"That they're hard to kill?"

"That's it," Spogmae said, tapping a spot on the mat with her Bo staff, asking Salma to move over.

Salma stayed put.

"What're you trying to say?" Salma asked, perplexed.

"What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to have him in physical existence to have him annoy you," she said, a fond smile on her lips. "I still feel like he's around and so does his enemies. Cats are hard to kill, I suppose."

Salma's brow furrowed. She was not sure what to make of the Green Coat's words other than the fact that she sounded like a love-struck pupper. Salma was wondering if Uncle Hurayra was the guy Burak Kaka was teasing her about during Zayn's operation, when Spogmae suddenly called.

"Eelay!"

Salma blinked back to the present.

"What?" a feminine voice replied from side room.

"I've got your student here," Spogmae replied.

***

First written on: April 9, 2021

Eelay – the petite lady with a short mop of tight curls - turned out to be her trainer. She had a bright grin, smiling brown eyes and a bubbly personality that took the basement gym by a storm. Lessons with her were fun, minus Spogmae's stern and silent presence in the background and amount of power that was packed in the small body that was Eelay. She was named 'Swan' but she was more like the Speedo bird. Full of never-ending supply of energy and lots of strength.

Salma's back slammed against the mat for the umpteenth time.

"That was a lot better!" Eelay clapped.

"Definitely." Salma groaned. She was drenched in sweat and her muscles ached. "Yay for landing flat on my back for the – what was it? Eighty seventh, eighty eighth time?"

"Eight ninth," Spogmae provided dryly.

"Thank you," Salma muttered sarcastically.

"Aww, come on, you're doing great!" Eelay smiled at her, giving her a helping hand. She was careful to grab Salma's forearm as she helped her up. Her wrists were still sore. "Also, it was just the Seventeenth time. Ask Spogmae how many times she made friends with the mat the first time she faced me."

Spogmae suddenly looked rather uneasy.

"You trained her?!" Salma's eyes widened.

"And your uncle and Burak and Zarrar and a few other dimwits!" Eelay grinned.

"Wow!" Salma blinked, sitting up cross-legged.

"Yeah, I'm old." Eelay chuckled, picking up Salma's Bo Staff and handing it to her.

"That's not – how can you be that old!" Salma cried, genuinely confused. "You seem younger than --" Salma glanced sideways at Spogmae "—younger than me," she ended up saying.

"Smooth save," Eelay laughed. Even Spogmae seemed amused. "Thank you. Let's keep going."

Sighing, Salma nodded and used the Bo Staff the stand up. The door to the room suddenly burst open.

"Spogmae, get to the control room!" A man with an Afro yelled. "Toryal made contact with Target 307!"

"What?!" Spogmae cried, making a beeline towards her shoes.

"That's bad," Eelay muttered, sounding worried.

"What happened?" Salma asked.

"Where's Commander Rahman?!" Spogmae asked the man.

"He's already left for the campus!" the man replied. Salma realized he was the guy from the IT department she had talked to before for James's funding website. "Burak has been asked to reach target 307 immediately. The agent in campus is tasked to get us a visual --"

"Wait, campus?" Salma asked, "Is he with Zayn?"

Again, no one answered her.

"How're we keeping an eye on things without a visual in place so far?" Spogmae ran towards the door once her shoes were on. Salma panicked.

"Wait, who is Target 307?!" Salma yelled after her.

The door closed. Salma dropped the Bo staff and ran towards her shoes.

"Salma, wait!" Eelay called. Salma stomped her feet into her shoes, ignoring her instructor. "You're not supposed to --"

The door slammed shut behind her, cutting Eelay off. Salma looked around. She saw the Afro-guy's shoes disappearing down the corridor to her right. Salma raced after them.

"The target herself called the commander," the Afro-guy was saying as Salma caught up to them.

Herself? Salma frowned. Who was target 307? And should Salma be concerned?

The two hurried into the IT office. Salma slammed against the sliding door as it was about to shut on her and squeezed herself through.

"You talk like you have the galls when you have none." Sarah's voice issued out of speaker stick by the large screen. "You and I both know this isn't where you can draw blood and get away with it."

"Sarah?!" Salma gasped.

Oh hell, no!

Authors Note:

Oh dear Lord, it's Sarah vs Toryal😱. Who will win? 😏

Right 😶. I got some explanations to do. So, where do I began? Firstly, I am sorry for going MIA like that. It was honestly unplanned and uncontrolled. Reason being a number of professional and personal obligations that really took a toll on me mentally and physically. I was just so overworked that I couldn't really continue with much. I had to take a break from updating on Patreon as well. All of us suffered as a result. Y'all couldn't get updates. The patrons had had delays and I ended up losing a Patron 😓.

But anyways, hopefully now that the dust has settled a bit, insha'Allah we'll resume our normal update schedule ☺️

And that brings me to the second point. I want to make up for the missed updates. So how would y'all want it? Goals for early quick updates or double updates on the usual schedule? Help me decide. Insha'Allah it'll be fun either way so I am excited. Hope y'all are excited too.😁

Thirdly, thanks to everyone who reached out and inquired about me. It was so heartwarming to read your duas and well wishes🥰. I'm going to get back to your messages and comments soon Inshaa'Allah.

Once again, the media included in this chapter belongs to @omargdraws on twitter. Thank you for allowing me to use it, Omar ☺️.

Vote, comment and share. Also drop by my Patreon to read up to chapter 55😉.

Lots of love

J.