Chapter 72: "Undercover"

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"You weren't supposed to be here today!" Jason repeated as he balanced the tray in one hand and pulled a chair out of the way, with the other.

"Yeah, well, I am!" Salma returned.

They were in the GCA cafeteria. Salma had gotten herself the chilled chocolate milk she had wanted, and was now hanging around to try to make sense of the explosion her brains had been subjected too.

So many puzzles were starting to fall in place, a lot of broken conversations were now bombarding her mind, aligning into plausible explanations, and yet there was still a thousand unanswered questions. Salma felt a little dizzy with speed at which her brain was revisiting and processing all the events that had Jason in it.

"I got outted in front of your dad! I can't even try to fix this," Jason mumbled miserably.

"Look, dad didn't seem to care," Salma said, feeling a little annoyed that he was stuck on being found, while she had so many questions.

"You don't understand, secrecy is service!" Jason argued. "I have a feeling I'd lose this job now."

They sat down at the far corner of the café, away from the more crowded tables.

"Dude, I'm not a Tor Gul!" Salma replied. "Stop acting like I'm going to put you in danger."

"You have are going to put you in danger," Jason said matter-of-factly.

"I still can't wrap my head around it!" Salma got straight to the point, shaking her head in disbelief. "Can't believe you're here! How are you here?!"

Jason just pouted at his sandwich, still sulking at being found.

"It's a long story," he muttered.

"Well, get on with it because I'm not supposed to stay here too long," Salma probed, and when he did not look like he was going to start talking. "I really hope I don't have to rip that shirt off like Louisa did to make you admit to it."

Despite himself, Jason blushed and chuckled at the memory.

Salma felt a searing burn snake around her gut, realizing what she had just said.

"It was because of me, wasn't it?" she said quietly. "You got those injuries when you were protecting me, not Louisa."

Jason ran his hands over his face.

"See, this is exactly why you can't find out," he said, releasing a breath. "I was assigned to watch over you, but those wounds were my own doing."

"How did you get them?" Salma asked, dreading his reply while her head simultaneously leafed through various memories, trying to string the timings of his injury, to the events that had been happening around her at the time.

"I approached an obvious threat that I should not have approached, unprepared," Jason said.

An obvious threat? Salma thought hard. Could it be Toryal? She felt bile rising to her throat.

"While you were watching over me?" she asked, feeling terrible. Jason was just a kid.

"You were not under any attack at the time," Jason said. "It's not on you."

"But they were a threat to me so you approached them?"

"You can say that," he said, picking up his sandwich.

"What for?"

Jason shrugged.

"For dialogue. An invitation of peace," he said. "See, I'm not trained for combat so I don't usually do anything on field. I just keep watch."

Salma started piecing things together. Her stomach was churning with guilt and nerves. The shadows protecting her were one thing, but a mere boy? Jason was several years younger than her. At least, in case of the shadows, they had several years of combat experience.

Not trained for combat, no field operations, he just watches over her. Salma gasped.

"You're the Green Coat inside the department! The one who keeps an eye on things when I'm in the building because the shadows can't!"

Jason, who had taken a big bite out of his sandwich, paused. He looked at her, clearly debating if he should confirm or deny her claim. Then, he nodded his head slowly.

Salma bit her lip.

"In that case . . ." Salma muttered. She knew she had heard about a Green Coat getting exposed to danger because he was not trained to fight, but she could not put a finger on it. It could not be Toryal. No one would approach Toryal with an olive branch. That man was a devil destined to cause death and destruction. Everyone knew. Then who . . .?

Salma sat up straighter, making Jason turn to her, surprised.

"Ghamey!" Salma cried. "You approached Ghamey, didn't you and he attacked you!"

Jason continued eating quietly for a few seconds, thinking once again. Salma watched him miserably, feeling her stomach convulse.

"I think I'm fired, anyway, so." Jason put his sandwich down. "Yes, it was him."

"My God!" Salma whispered, sitting back in her chair.

"It was nothing dangerous!" Jason quickly added. "Just a small wound here," he raised his palm and then patted his shoulder. "And here."

"You got sliced on the shoulder!" Salma cried, oddly getting reminded of Asim telling her, Uncle Dawood had said the Green Coat approaching Ghamey had non-fatal wounds on his hand and shoulder.

Salma felt sick.

"You grabbed his knife?" she guessed quietly.

"Not a very smart move, I've learned." Jason chuckled, embarrassed.

"I think I'm going to puke," Salma whispered, putting her face in her hands.

What had the world come to? She was being protected by people barely of age. Their lives were what kept her alive. They were her shield against danger, more often than not, at the cost of their own wellbeing.

Salma looked up, taking in a shaky breath.

"The day of the sniper attack," she said, feeling a chilly cold seeping into her bones. "That was you too, wasn't it?"

Jason's eyes went to and fro between hers. He looked conflicted, like he knew lying to her was not an option, but he did not want to burden her with the truth.

Salma felt her throat clogging up. She looked away from his youthful face, blinking back tears. In that moment, sitting across the young, curly haired redhead, Salma could not despise her existence more. She knew her miserable life served a useful purpose to a lot of people, but the fact that that purpose made so many other, more valuable, talented and beautiful people put their lives between her and deathly perils, made her wish for less important job. She wished she could serve her purpose without anyone having to put their lives on the line, especially someone so young. She wished she was the one protecting Jason, not the other way around.

"Salma?" Jason called after a while, concerned.

"Why did you do that?" Salma asked, her thick voice gave her away. Salma swallowed to clear her throat. "You're so young, Jason. Why would you sign up for something like that?"

"I'm of age!" Jason frowned. "It's not like I'm a child!"

Salma's heart melted at his innocent defiance.

"No, you're not a child." She smiled sadly. "but neither am I. I'm older than you, and yet when bullets started flying, you were the one body shielding me."

"It's my job!"

"Jason –"

"You're important! You're our best chance against them! So many hopes are alive because of you. Who wouldn't want to be by your side when you putting up a fight like that?!"

"I'm not doing anything, Jason!" Salma cried. "What're they telling you? I'm just scurrying away like a scared little rodent, barely holding on –

"You're a live isn't it?"

"-- Yes, because there's people like you literally throwing your lives –"

"Despite all the attacks and the emotional blackmails, you haven't given up!"

"That's the least I can do!"

"Under what obligation, and to whom?" Jason asked.

Salma just stared at him, not sure how to counter him.

"When you're standing firm by your duty as the Guardian of the Zamarud, despite the mental and physical torture and abuse that comes with it, when you bear the attacks because of it, when you carry the fear and loss of your family members that were murdered in cold blood, who do you do it for?"

Salma felt her vision blurring with tears. She does it for her people and she would rather die than turn her back on them for herself, but Salma knew saying all that aloud were proving his point.

"It's my duty, Jason!" she said firmly. "It's my job!"

"Exactly," Jason replied. "It's my job, my purpose and there is nothing else that I would want to do."

Salma bit hard on her inner cheek when just blinking would not get rid of the tears. Her heart was so full, she felt like it would explode with emotions.

"You know, if this were Jannah, I'd hug you so tight your ribs would crack." Salma sniffed, wiping her eyes dry.

"I don't know if I'm sad this isn't Jannah, or happy that my ribs will remain intact," he joked, making Salma chuckle despite herself. Jason smiled. "It's an honor to fight by your side, princess."

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

Jason laughed.

"And that reminds me of when you started talking about Royalty hiding amongst us!" Salma narrowed her eyes at him.

"You were quick to deny that!" Jason grinned.

"Yeah, because I'm not royalty!" Salma pointed out.

"I tend to disagree but no one argues with the Queen."

"Jason!"

"I'm messing with you!"

"Stop it." Salma wiped at her moist eyes again and picked up her drink. "So what's your story? How did you come in contact with the GCA? And how did they end up hiring you to protect me?"

"I'm not doing the protecting, I'm being protected," Jason replied.

Salma frowned.

"Any chance I was right about you being the heir to the British throne?"

"Nah!" Jason laughed.

"Not Lady Diana's unknown son?"

"More like a gifted nuclear scientist's son," Jason replied.

Salma froze, surprised by his reply.

"That's a plot twist I didn't expect," Salma muttered.

Jason smiled in amusement.

"My father was like you, born Sthooriy, but raised in the U.S," Jason began. "He was known to be a genius, aced in everything that he did. At sixteen, he got accepted in Stanford for their Nuclear physics program. At twenty, he had already acquired his PhD and was working for the top, most sophisticated nuclear facility of the country. Dad was destined to be the next great name in the nuclear science. The U.S government invested a lot in him to boost their nuclear capability to new heights. And for a year, dad did just that, but he was holding back the true genius of his work for something much greater. He was only twenty one but he had already decided this was a means to an end that he wanted. He wanted to use his intellect and ability for something positive, for growth and productivity, not death and destruction and arming the mighty hegemon with yet another stick to herd the weaker states."

As Jason paused for a drink, Salma continued staring at him with her lips parted. She was mind-boggled, completely immersed in the story of his super intelligent father and his impressive academic record.

"Working on a side project in secrecy, my father had developed, what they called, a shield, against nuclear weapons," Jason continued. "It was a working model based on several high energy waves that could potentially trap a nuclear warhead midair like a fish in a net. The missile could then be redirected to either explode in space or in the ocean, if that was an available option. From what I've heard, he was working on an option to remotely hack into, and disarm the warhead instead of controlled detonation, when the authorities got a wind of his plans."

"He got caught?!" Salma cried loudly.

She realized she had practically shouted the words when a few heads in the cafeteria turned towards them. Embarrassed, Salma avoided eye contact and leaned towards Jason.

"He got caught?" she whispered.

"No," Jason shook his head. "He was clever enough to dodge the officials by sharing an incomplete, rudimentary version of his design. He told them it was a vague idea but he was working on it to see where it goes. As expected, the bosses in both the civil and military circles were overjoyed at the prospect of developing bubble shield that would give them the keys the safe haven only they could access. They pumped in more money into my father's research program, that came to be known as 'Eden', and encouraged my father to make it work. Dad got scared by their vicious intentions. He had already known, but now seeing men drunk with power, fantasizing about complete monopoly on a nuke-safe zone on the planet, had him terrified. He said it was as if he could see a small patch living and prospering, while the rest of the world went up in flames. Realizing he was digging himself an even bigger hole, he tried to get away. He kept stalling the project and submitted failure report after failure report. He got miserable and depressed. He wanted out.

"The top tier somehow suspected he was stalling. They kept him on. It was as if they knew he had completed the design but was refusing to share it. After a decade of back and forth, the government had lost the overzealous interest in getting Eden realized, but had marked him as a man who was an asset to the country, and a liability if he got away. My dad was living in a golden prison. He could do what he wanted, go where he wanted to go and socialize all he liked, but every step he took was watched, every action questioned and every word heard. The people in power wanted what was in his head. He had to live. And he had to share. They would never leave him alone.

"The tight security and surveillance got overbearing. At thirty one, more than ten years after he started working for top nuclear facility of the country, he got his first and only opportunity at escape.

"He ran into your granddad."

Author's Note:

Things are getting interesting around the lil chipmunk! lol. So, how many of you guessed it was Jason in all these past events?😋

To be fair, Jason turning into a Green Coat was a totally random idea that I got. I think it was around the sniper attack scene that I decided to make him a Green Coat. Then the back story formed in my mind and everything else started falling back beautifully in place. I did not know it, but the minor side character in Book I, who was only introduced to create conflict between Zayn and Salma, was destined to be a Green Coat! *wipes a tear* so proud of the lil chipmunk!

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Lots of Love

J.