Chapter 34: "Distant signals"

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First draft: May 3, 2021

Bee 🐝: Assalam o alaikom.

Zayn clenched his jaws tightly to contain the sudden smile that was threatening to stretch upon his lips. And yet, he failed to cover his eagerness by how fast he snatched his phone to type a response.

Zayn: Wa alaikom Assalam 😁

Zayn: How are you doing?

He didn't realize he was grabbing the edges of his phone in a death grip, waiting for her reply impatiently. A snicker made him look up. Two curiously expectant faces were grinning at him.

"What?" he asked, trying damage control on impulse as he relaxed his tense shoulders and the grip on the phone.

"Well?" Hamza's grin widened.

"Well what?" Zayn raised a serious brow.

"Is it her?" Hamza asked.

"Might be." Zayn shrugged, turning back to texting her.

Zayn: It's match day tomorrow. 12 a.m in Blue Riverdale.

In his periphery, Zayn saw Robert just smile and resume eating. Hamza on the other hand, planned on being full throttle annoying.

"Now, now Cap'n," he drawled. "Don't just play cool with me --"

A cacophony of beeps interrupted him. Hamza cackled to attract the attention of the dinning hall at large.

"She seems quite excited if you ask me." Robert smiled.

Bee: I'm well Alhumdulillah.

Zayn's smile dropped.

"It's not her," he said, frowning at the other messages as he read them.

Snob: Take it easy, pretty-eyes. Stop spamming her!🤦🏻‍♀️ She looks like she's going to get a panic attack!

"Who is it then?" Hamza asked.

"My Grandmother," Zayn grumbled his irritation as he typed a reply to Sarah.

Zayn: Look who has unblocked me to ruin my day.

Zayn: FYI, I wasn't spamming her 🙄

Of course, Bee would have told Snob he had texted her and asked for help on how to reply, Zayn thought angrily. It was late in Blue Riverdale. Why was Salma even with her at this time of the night?

"Your grandma?" Hamza asked, confused. "But Captain, didn't your grandma pass away."

Zayn closed his eyes in frustration as Robert facepalmed.

"He was being sarcastic." Robert said.

"More like my mother-in-law, reprimanding me for texting her," Zayn clarified as he read the next text.

Unknown: one more text from you right now and I'll be there personally, to club you.

Unknown: - 🌩️

Zayn's frown deepened. The text was signed off with a thunderstorm emoji. Who in the world was that --?

The hell is going on? Zayn cursed in his head realizing who the unknown was.

Burak.

"She told her mother on you?!" Hamza cried, but Zayn was too busy with the madness in his inbox to correct his teammate.

Was the Green Coat spying on his private communications?

What the hell?

Another beep resounded.

Bee 🐝: I will watch it. Good luck with the game👍🏻.

Zayn smiled. Disregarding the Green Coat and Snob's warning, he typed a quick response.

Zayn: Thank you ☺️.

Beep! In came a text from the Green Coat.

Unknown: I'm warning you. Stop!

Zayn released let out an exasperated sigh.

Zayn: I won't! It's my wife. What's your problem man?!

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: Wife. LOL. In your dreams 🙄

Zayn snorted at the childish reply.

Zayn: Sucks to be you. Stop reading my texts.

It was a while before Burak replied. And receiving the essay made Zayn realize what took him so long.

Unknown: I happen to protect the princess you dream of marrying and that means keeping track of her correspondence - with her consent - in case Toryal tries to contact her. I'm not an intrusive imbecile like you. I don't read her texts. I just get pinged when someone contacts her. Stop texting her, you shrew! I have had a long day and would like to sleep before I start another shift in an hour!

Wow, Zayn laughed. Dude's got a few screws lose.

Zayn: I don't dream of marrying her. I am married to her.

Zayn: Good Night, loser.

Burak responded with a rude emoji. Zayn laughed, but quit texting anyway.

Such a sore loser!

***

First draft: May 19, 2021

Salma buried her face into the pillow with shame. This was the second time Zayn had scored - and embarrassed her. Salma opened one eye a wink. Zayn's celebration of the goal was being replayed in slow motion after the goal. Salma groaned, burying her face in Asim's pillow again.

Zayn had been dedicating the goals to her. He celebrated by running towards the camera, making a 'B' with his fingers and then a heart.

Even a blind person could tell what that meant.

"Stop it, you idiot!" Salma wailed into pillow, her voice coming out muffled. "Stop doing that."

The first time Salma saw him do the celebration, she was frozen into a still. Her silent cheers of 'yes!' turning into a bewildered 'what the hell?!'. Then she just had the kind of luck where his celebration had become a part of the clip they replayed every time the goal was being discussed.

Currently, after his second goal, the commentators were wondering what his new goal celebration meant.

"Must be for a loved one. Someone close to Grace's heart." The pundit chuckled.

Salma's already blushed cheeks heated some more. So it was a new celebration. Could he be doing it, knowing she was watching? Salma's gut twisted uncomfortably.

"He's been doing it for a while now." The second commentator said, as if answering her question. "Good motivation whoever it is. They've turned Grace into a graceful goal scoring machine."

"You're welcome," Salma deadpanned, secretly praying the graceful goal scoring machine either changes his celebration, or doesn't get another goal for the rest of the night.

Salma was glad she had chosen to watch the match alone. Although she had not anticipated something like this to happen, she just wasn't comfortable with anyone knowing she was going to be watching Zayn's game. For some reason it felt like such a personal thing between them, and now watching Zayn celebrate every moment of his success with a thought for her to the world at large, Salma felt exposed.

Asim had shifted to Anne's to provide Sarah with more freedom to move about. So Salma had sought refuge in Asim's room to become the lone audience for the game streaming on her laptop.

Salma became attentive to the match once the game resumed again. Every time the ball entered any of the Ds, she found herself getting really nervous and worked up. She did not want the opponents scoring a goal, and yet, she dreaded Zayn netting the ball and embarrassing her again.

Salma had to admit Zayn was rather skilled. He seemed to intelligently fill up spaces and create chances. His team's defense was solid, the goalie a literal wall.

"AND LUKE INTERCEPTS THE BALL! PASSED TO RIVERA! HE GIVES A LONG PASS TO HAMZA. IT'S A COUNTER!"

"Yes, yes, yes. . ."

A BACK PASS TO GRACE TO DODGE THE KEEPER!

"Oh no! Not Zayn, no, no--"

PASSED TO HAMZA AND HE TAPS IT . . . GOOOOOAAAALL! IT'S A GOAL! HAMZA KHALID TAPS IT INTO THE --"

"No -- yesss!" Salma raised her fists into the air squealing. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Salma?"

"Crap!" Salma slapped a hand over her mouth. A moment of silence was paused by another tentative knock on the door. "Yeah?"

"Is everything alright?" Sarah asked.

"Of course!" Salma replied quickly. "Just busy with the internet!"

Silence. A very awkward moment of silence.

"Okay then," Sarah replied. "You seem to alternate between crying and cheering. I got worried."

"I'm good," Salma replied. "You can come in."

Sarah popped her head in, not a second later.

"Just watching something." Salma waved at her laptop.

"And you talk while you watch things?" Sarah raised a brow.

"If I get excited." Salma smiled sheepishly. "Didn't want to disturb you, so I shifted here."

"Good, stay here," Sarah replied. "You're weird!"

"Whatever."

"Listen, I am going to Anne's. Your mum is there too and she asked me to go. There's a lot of activity happening downstairs so your mum probably thought it was better to get me out of the way."

"Activity?" Salma frowned. "What kind?"

"The Green Coats kind," Sarah replied.

"Is everything alright? Salma sat up straight, getting worried

"I hope so." Sarah shrugged, then hastened to stop her from leaving. "Don't go downstairs immediately though. I don't think your dad would appreciate me spying on him for you. I think they've forgotten you're still in the house."

Salma froze. She felt her heart picking up pace.

"Okay . . ." She nodded. "Do you reckon it's wise for me to stay behind and spy on them? If dad doesn't want me involved, I probably shouldn't –"

"Up to you." Sarah shrugged again. "If they were making a mistake like this with me, I'd invest upon it and see what was happening." Sarah smirked suggestively.

Salma chewed on her inner lip, thinking.

You are just . . . a pawn . . . Toryal's toxic words echoed across the dark corridors of her mind.

"I think I'll stay till someone orders me to leave," Salma decided on impulse.

Sarah nodded, then pointed at the laptop.

"Continue being a weirdo for a while." Laughing, she shut the door close.

Salma sighed before putting back one of the earbuds. What was she even doing?

"TAPPED PERFECTLY INTO THE UPPER LEFT CORNER. BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL WORK BY HAMZA. AN EXCELLENT ASSIST BY GRACE."

Much to Salma's relief, this time, the celebration was not embarrassing for her. Partly because her stomach was in painful knots and partly because the goal scorer was not Zayn. In fact, as the young, black striker fell into prostration, Salma felt a sense of pride and belonging.

***

There was a frenzy as Burak Kaka ran between the many open cases, shifting papers, files and equipment and accessories. He shuffled through what looked like a stack of passports, chose one and pocketed it. Then, as one of the laptops strewn on the sofa beeped with a notification, he reached for the headpiece by diving over the table.

"Negative. Hold the order," he said into the speaker after receiving whatever message was conveyed. "Reschedule for 1500 hours until further orders. Over."

More information followed.

"Copy that." He tossed the headpiece aside.

He seemed to be consulting various channels of information and preparing for travel at the same time. Spogmae was standing motionlessly by the foyer. Her arms tightly crossed, eyes staring out of the window and a grim frown etched on her forehead. Salma felt her heart beating harder as she softly stepped down the stairs.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Salma had barely asked the question and two guns were pointing at her, ready to drill some holes into her skull. She had no idea how the weapons materialized into the Green Coats hands out of nowhere.

Salma's hands were already up.

"I'm not a threat --"

"You're not supposed to be here!" Spogmae cried, striding towards the base of the stairs, gun, pointing to the floor now but still gripped tightly.

"What are you doing in the house?!" Burak Kaka blinked, lowering the gun slowly.

"I live here?" Salma tried humoring the two.

"Touche," Burak kaka replied. "but what are you doing in the house?"

As Salma raised her eyebrows, Spogmae threw her colleague a defeated look.

"Your mother did not take you with her to Dawood's?" Spogmae asked.

"No." Salma frowned, stepping down casually. "Why?"

"She very clearly said you were at Dawood's and only Sarah was in the room," Spogmae replied.

"I was in Asim's room. Why? What happened?"

"A huge emergency happened," Burak Kaka replied. "And you shouldn't be here. This is GCA HQ 2.0 for a while and kids are not welcomed."

"First off, I'm not a kid. Second, this is my house. Set up your HQ in the yard. Third, do you often lose your bearings during an emergency?" Salma folded her hands, standing in front of the two Green Coats. "You just set up shop here, not knowing an unwelcomed individual was residing upstairs?"

"Good point," Spogmae said, snapping out a pair of cuffs. "I'll do a quick sweep upstairs after you're escorted outside."

"You'll do no such thing," Salma backed off an inch as she reached for her with cuffs. "Like I said, my house?"

While Spogmae looked at her amused, Burak Kaka chuckled.

"She's got the spunk."

"And the brains," Spogmae replied, trying not to smile. "Is there anyone else upstairs? The compound is secured from outside, but your mother was tasked to vacate the area since we did not want to intrude upon ya'll private space."

"No, so far as I know, I'm the only owner of the 'compound' for now," Salma said, walking past her towards the kitchen. "You can go take a look in case some boogeyman has slipped my notice. I was busy watching a – nevermind. Just go and make sure ya'll are safe. By the way, where's dad?"

"Praying," Burak replied as Spogmae raced upstairs, with her pet; the gun. "You should leave Pundookiya!" he called after her. "Go to your uncle's before your dad comes here. I'll pretend I didn't see you roaming the HQ."

"You mean my house?" Salma corrected again. She got herself some grapes in a bowl. "And you're going to lie to your boss? Don't worry, I can be trusted."

"Trusted you definitely can be, but," he said. He was straddling the table as he reached for different things at the opposite ends of the room and continued doing his work. "The least you know the safer you are. Some things are burden to know. Trust me."

Salma felt a strange sense of foreboding behind his words.

"What happened, Kaka?"

Burak sighed.

"It's like you didn't hear me at all, did you?" He gave her an exhausted smile. "Alright, I'll give you this, if GCA has hundred parts of resources, 50 parts are spent for and because of your protection and the other 50 for this other --"

"Person? Who is it?"

Burak Kaka drummed his fingers on the folder he was holding, and pursed his lips. Spogmae came back, eyeing her presence disapprovingly.

"Not exactly," he said. "See, we don't protect individuals but the cause they represent, lead and breathe life into. You're a family to me and your dad but other than that, the GCA at large doesn't even know you, the person. They swore a blood oath to protect the trust of the Guardian of the Zamarud bestowed upon, and so, you. This other . . . how do I say it? Section, if you will. There's this other section that's equally as important."

"And it's compromised?" Salma's eyes went wide.

"Not really. Alhumdulillah, it's secure," Burak replied.

"Then?"

"The compound was attacked."

"What's the rush then?" Salma scoffed, watching Spogmae race towards one of the gadgets to attend to some kind of a call. Burak resumed his manic chores. Salma figured they had just pretended to be calm when they realized she was around. "I get attacked all the time and ya'll are good with it. This other 'phenomena' gets scratched and ya'll lose your wits to the point that you forget to do proper search before setting up HQ?"

"Hey, mistakes happen, a'igh?" Burak Kaka said, annoyed and he furiously typed away at one of the keypads. "Also, you're an obvious target. The other project is hidden. The attack means the enemy knows of its existence and our intentions to use it."

"Enough talk, you should leave!" Spogmae rounded on her sternly. Salma's calm and confidence suddenly slipped away.

God, she was good at this!

"I was just --"

"Princess!" her father's alarmed voice froze all three of them. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in Asim's room! Mum didn't realize I was there!" Salma hastily explained. "No one told me to leave!"

The two Green Coats gave her a deadpanned look.

"Alright move," he grabbed her shoulders and started walking her out. "You shouldn't be here? Spogmae, do a --"

"Upstairs have been searched and secured," Spogmae quickly reassured.

"Good." Mr. Rahman nodded. "Come on, Princess! How much did you find out?"

"That there's some kind of an emergency. Dad will we be okay?" Salma asked.

"Nothing we can't handle --"

Salma accidentally knocked something off the table in the passing. She turned around on instinct just as Burak Kaka dived to rescue the phone.

"Speen Baaz has been clawed!" A robotic voice issued from its speakers. The Green Coats froze, their eyes snapping to Salma. "I repeat, Speen Baaz has been clawed! Iron box is recommended for Aman. She's our only hope now!"

A tense silence followed after the panicked message of the robotic voice ended. The two Green Coats turned to their boss. Burak, unable to shut the message in time, tossed his phone towards the couch. His expressions defeated and tired.

Salma had trouble understanding much of the message, but whatever she understood, she realized was nothing good. Supposedly, she was their only hope for something and she needed 'iron box'. Salma figured that meant loads of security. Even more restriction in movements and tighter surveillance. Salma tried to hold her panic in.

"What do we do now?" Burak asked as if Salma was not around. "This is getting crazier by the minute."

"First off – let me escort this one out of here." Her father clapped her shoulder. "Come on."

Salma did not move.

"Who's Speen Baaz?"

"Who said it's a 'who'?

"Then what is it?"

"Nevermind that. Come on."

"Why do I need an iron box? What does that mean? Am I going to get more attacks --"

She felt startled eyes shooting in her direction and then quickly covering it with a mildly curious gaze.

"Who said this was about you?" Spogmae chuckled.

"That voice said Aman who's a she?"

"What make you think it's you?" Burak laughed.

"Yeah, you fool no one with that fake laugh," Salma returned angrily. "Your laugh literally rolls like a thunder when it's genuine."

"God help me with this one, she's sharp," he muttered, giving her his back and turning to one of the cases with files.

"I'm Aman, isn't it? Aman as in peace?" Salma turned to her father, trying not to ugly cry. The panic was building up. "Salma, code name: Peace."

Her father sighed.

"And if you are?"

"What does iron box mean?" The name sounded suffocating. She did not want things to come to a suffocating security.

"You've already guessed what it is, and it's making you feel claustrophobic just by thinking about it," Mr. Rahman said with a tired smile. "It's just a recommendation Sally. Everything is fine. I won't let it come to that." He kissed her forehead. "Now, why don't you just hop off to your Uncle's while I attend to work, yeah?"

Salma swallowed the panic and nodded. She avoided meeting the other two's stares.

"Last question," Salma muttered, blinking back tears. "Is Burak Kaka leaving somewhere?"

She heard another round of sighs.

"He might be."

"Then who's protecting me?"

"We'll make do and that's two questions you've asked. Off you go!"

Salma's pace slowed down as she walked backwards. She knew her father's patience was not to be tested but --

"Don't get mad, but can't that other attack be a ruse?" Salma kept talking quickly as Burak Kaka stepped off the table to rush her out. "What if they actually want me exposed or waiting are for your response to get a confirmation for the existence of the –"

"Wait!" Spogmae's voice made them all halt.

Author's Note:

Wait what?🤔 Oh yeah! Wait for the next update! 🤣

See ya'll. No goals for this chapter. Lazy losties get no early updates but I still love ya'll🥰

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J.