Alone, with the sinister laughter still echoing, she sat in thought. Zaynab had always survived by her wits and now her intelligence was being tested. For many years she had trusted AGT and received honor and power from them. Now the same aegis was her enemy, by her own choice. There were moments when doubt and loyalty almost called her back.

Now she was laying on their linens at the mercy of a man she might have loved yesterday. It wasn't the world, the cause or her faith. Survival was personal, and then it became something more. She saw herself in those that died to pave the way for AGT. She herself was just more pavement, in the end.

There was a soft knock on her door and then the intercom told her the name of her visitor: "Halfdan."

She put on a robe and went and opened for her host. Zaynab just stood there. Amid her freckles were specks of dried blood on her face in delicate stripes.

"You left without speaking. You did not enjoy killing that man? He followed you here." Halfdan had alcohol on his breath.

"I don't like killing." Zaynab shrugged and stared honestly.

"That surprises me." Halfdan let himself in. He walked around for a moment before he turned around and asked simply: "I thought you wanted to stay with me."

"If I was your wife you could have me right now. But I am a single woman, it would be shameful." Zaynab walked slowly towards him as she said this. He looked confused.

"You are so weird." Halfdan protested.

"I believe in doing what is right. I have killed many people and I am responsible for the deaths of many more. But what I did was because I believe in doing what is right. Not because I enjoy killing. I am sure I would enjoy being your lover, but again, I do what is right. It is not right when outside of marriage." Zaynab explained herself in slowly spoken Arabic, testing him. She was very impressed when he accepted everything she said, sat down, thought about it and then said back to her in his own Arabic:

"I think that if ever a mortal heard the voice of God it would be in a garden at the cool of the day." Halfdan was nodding appreciatively. Then in English he added: "Guy named Frank Moore wrote that."

"I have not read as much as you. In fact, I have not really read so much at all." Zaynab spoke English and sat down beside him. "You are a very knowledgeable man. What draws you to Zaynab's bedchamber?"

Halfdan sat silently staring at her for a very long time. She thought for certain that he would try to kiss her or put his hands on her, but he did not. Her respect was a jewel to him. This is where she wanted him, putting her on a pedestal.

"I don't know. Everything about you seems sacred. Like you are more than just a woman. An angel?" Halfdan frowned as he realized he would never obtain her. Zaynab smiled back.

"I assure you I am just a woman. I also assure you that my resolve is not so sacred when you are sitting here with me." Zaynab promised, almost whispering.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

"I can't keep you here. Ever since you have come home there are questions about you. I cannot answer for you. I must send you along to my masters, who would gladly steal you from me." Halfdan sounded genuinely miserable at the confession.

"Where am I going?" Zaynab wondered.

"Where are you originally from, anyway?" Halfdan changed the conversation.

"Nowhere." Zaynab tried to block the memories. She could just say she was from Iran, like she usually did, but it was not true. She wanted to be honest and this stirred the pit of demons she called childhood. "I am from A Golden Tomorrow. They made me into what I am, into Zaynab."

"The whole world is home." Halfdan sounded bemused. She was nearly as well-traveled as he was.

"When will I be going?" She insisted.

"Very soon my dear. This waits for nobody. I guess that is who we are. Two nobodies from nowhere." Halfdan stood to go and for just an instant she almost told him to wait. Then she recalled his cruel laughter when he made her kill the man from Interpol. She let him leave.

Zaynab was again alone. She chastised herself for being attracted to Halfdan, distracted. She worried she might have given away more than she intended and replayed the whole conversation over and over in her mind until she was sure he had no suspicions of her inevitable treachery. Men see and hear what they want, she reminded herself. Halfdan was not an exception.

After laying awake under the moonlight for several hours she finally slept. When she awoke it was late into the morning. She was told over the intercom to get dressed to leave. She put on the brown dress and hijab she had chosen for her departure, while she was restless the night before.

The two female security guards entered her room and hurried her to the helipad. Halfdan was not around to say goodbye. His absence was disappointing as well as possible cause for alarm. If he was not here it might mean he had voiced his suspicions about her. But she asked herself if that was real and decided it wasn't.

"You are being paranoid, Zaynab" She told herself. The helicopter was large and had considerable range. They took her back to the coast where a kind of resort sat in dilapidation. Behind it some ominous looking hills sat in cold silence under the brilliant sunlight. Her feelings were soon confirmed.

The helicopter left her alone there and went somewhere else to refuel.

As she stood alone she looked around at the ruins. The resort was old and neglect and disrepair had left it falling apart. Once a splendid display of opulence, now a run down and rat infested standing rubble. Some feeling told her she would not get the 'welcome home' she had gotten twice before.

"So my little flower comes back to me, at last." The voice of the devil spoke from behind her. She turned around and beheld the master of her nightmares. "Zaynab."

"Shapiro." Zaynab shuddered as she identified him. He was a short and vicious man, responsible to the less savory details of AGT's agenda. He had trained her and given her the part of her education that was not classified as 'an opportunity for minority women from the third world' as her formal education could be called. If he tried to touch her or offer her a flower: chances were high she would kill him with her bare hands.

"You were the best I ever taught." Shapiro had a way of staring that could make anyone uncomfortable. Like he had tortured so many people that he was imagining dissecting-alive the person he was looking at. And that person could feel the sadistic glee he was hiding.

"Why am I here?" Zaynab demanded.

"I was going to ask you that question. You have done a lot of interesting things since the last time I saw you. You are the only one of your class that is still active. Most of them are dead already. It's a hard life, isn't it?" Shapiro was still staring, drooling out of the corner of his mouth.

"I did all that was ever asked of me. Now I am asked to be here." Zaynab shrugged.

"It is more of an invitation." Shapiro showed her that he had the same AGT's standard and barcode tattoo as Halfdan. He made sure she was looking at it as he added: "Welcome home."