Begin Again

Meet and Greet

"Oh this is ridiculous," Blake muttered to herself as she stood in front of the Algerian rebellion army. Somehow she was brought here, even though those two men from the boat were in fact actual Algerian soldiers. There had to be some sort of alliance there. They stood in the Sahara, in clay built houses that were built within the mountains. "I am not a spy!"

Halim, the rebellion army leader, stood on his feet staring at the woman in front of her. He was trying to read her facial expressions to determine if she was telling the truth or not. It wasn't every day that he was encountered with an american, not claiming to be a reporter or a journalist.

"Untie her," Halim raised his chin, as his two soldiers untied her. She rubbed her chaffed wrists, glancing over at the two men who exited the small "office". "Who are you?"

"Blake Barnes. Other people call me Rusty."

"Which do you prefer?"

"Which ever is easier." The man smiled at her, easing the tension in that tightly packed room. Blake grinned at the man, observing the room herself. "Blake."

"Blake, who are you? Journalist?"

"Uh, no," she laughed nervously.

"What is an american woman doing way out here?"

"That is a very long story," Blake scratched her head. Halim sat down, extending a hand on the cushion in front of him. He declared that he had time and wanted to know so Blake didn't miss up on that opportunity. After explaining how she made it from Wyoming to London, from London to the docks and from the ship to- everywhere, it was surprising how she managed to stay on track.

"So you are telling me, you found the briefcase with that single sheet of ripped paper? You decoded it- got attacked by a man, Jaime, who wanted that sheet of paper, you tampered with his car so it couldn't start, he left on foot, another man, Albert, had hidden another clue inside the car, the same man known nothing about cars? All this you understood that you needed to get to London, but after that you stopped to save a man?"

"Pretty much, except I haven't been able to decode it," Blake nodded as she held the cup of water in her hand. "I need to get back to London. I need to retrace my tracks and see where I need to go from here."

"Well, I will make you a deal," Halim nodded. "You help me, I will help you get to London."

He lead her for a "garage" where he kept a car. A very special car, he stated. Blake was having fun seeing the children play with a soccer ball as their mothers were talking, laughing among themselves. She pulled at her undershirt as Halim let her walk in first, smiling at his car. When he saw her facial expression just grow more enthusiastic for that rare car sitting in front of her, he could only laugh.

"This is your car," Blake laughed, admiring the frame work of the Ferrari 250 GT Spyder Convertible. "This is a beauty."

"You are a woman of great taste."

"How did you know I was a mechanic?"

"Your hands give it all away. One who works, is one who must be rewarded. Can you help me?"

"Oh, you don't even have to ask twice."

Algeria

Rowan stopped his motorcycle over the sand hill, looking out at the Sahara desert. Out of this entire desert, how was he suppose to find a redhead girl out of it? There was no possibly way but he could only hope. The soft whine of a dog made him look back at his carry pack, where Duke sat impatiently.

"It's alright boy, we will find her," Rowan scratched his head before going on. It took him several hours before reaching the valley of harder sand, where he was able to travel at faster speeds. He saw a trail, one that cars traveled on regularly since the tracks did not seem very old. "Doesn't seem very safe, but here goes nothing."

Taking the road, Rowan noticed how steeper it was getting and more force on the engine made him worry his poor motorcycle wouldn't make it. Duke began to forcefully pull himself out of the bag, managing to run out onto the hot sand.

"Wait," Rowan yelled as the dog suddenly stopped ice cold. His hairs on his back began standing up, growling softly. Rowan stopped the motorcycle, cautiously observing the rocky sides where the warriors were hiding in. "Do not move."

The dog did not move as warriors on horse back came racing over the ridge. Quickly raising his hands over his head, Rowan watched the men surround him and the dog, with no sign of mercy in their eyes.

"Do they call you Rusty because of the color of your hair," Halim's young daughter asked. Blake smiled as she nodded. "Who gave you that name?"

"My brother."

"Where is he?" Blake stopped fixing the engine, to sigh slightly. The thought of her brother just brought back all these memories she didn't want to remember at all. Trying to brave a friendly smile, Blake shrugged.

"I'd like to think somewhere nice." The girl quickly recognized what that statement meant, dropping her shoulders in sympathy for her. "So, you have family?"

"I have a brother," she winced.

"Hey," Blake turned around, bending down to be at her height. "It's alright. My brother gave me the best life I could ask for. He's always with me, so I'm okay. So this brother of yours, does he take care of you?"

"Take care? He is always playing with me! Teasing!"

"Oh, we are going to have one serious talk with him, aren't we," Blake winked. The girl turned around as a large group of horseback warriors returned with loud cheering. "What's going on?"

"I do not know," the girl shook her head.

Halim, stood as the young man was dropped right at his feet. There were two? This was two interesting days, first the redhead and now this man. Rowan raised his eyes to meet his, wondering what was going to be of him.

"Are you a journalist?"

"I am," Rowan replied.

"What are you doing here?"

"I- I am looking for a girl. A woman." Not knowing the man's intentions were, Halim needed to find out why the young man wanted the girl.

"What for?"

"She- she saved my life and I saw two soldiers taking her away and I knew I had to find her. She is in danger because of me. It's my fault she got herself into this ordeal- I just want to get her out of it."

Halim raised Rowan onto his feet, patting his shoulders with a smile. Confused with the reaction, Rowan furrowed his eyebrows. He has been in worse scenarios than this and never had one turned kind on him.

"The world needs men like you," Halim replied. "Strong and capable as well as compassionate. It must have not been easy getting off that tanker by yourself."

"H-how," Rowan asked. Halim laughed as he pressed an open hand to his chest claiming he was the one who had called to get Rowan, the journalist to this place. "It was you? You're the one whose gold shipments have been stolen?"

"Yes," Halim nodded. "I've read your works, for a young man like yourself, you write quite well. Come, I must show you something."