- K A L I -  A L I -

     I swing open the doors to the bar, my shoes colliding with the tile as the room opens in front of me. The once-bustling bar is empty and devoid of chatter. Maybe the court was respecting his legacy in some way. Klen used to be the life of this room, and now he's its ghost. 

     Stepping behind the bar, I slide my hands across the haunted countertop as I look at all the tools. He really did love this place. Before he came here, Klen was a bartender in Germany - one of the best, I'm told. He made a living in Dresden by pouring some great beers and making countless shots.

     My hands slide across the bottles, picking the glasses I had remembered him picking when I had my Green Tea Shots with him. That's the neat part about being a princess: you notice things. You learn to spot who's really on your side. Maybe it's fitting that I couldn't see the lies right under my nose, given that I never was one.

     Irish whiskey, Peach Schnapps, and sour mix are all poured into two shot glasses by my shaking hands. I still can't believe I'm even doing this. Not only did my mother lie to me for decades, but she's now put me in the worst position possible. I'm the exclusive holder of the truth of my blood.

     What will he say?

     The lemon-lime soda is the last touch as I begin setting the glasses back on the shelf. Footsteps begin approaching, and I exhale in a nervous rage. Every emotion runs through my body as I turn around, a single tear dropping down my cheek.

     Shuma walks inside, pushing the door open as I stand at the bar. He looks at me with a mix of exhaustion and surprise on his face. The dastardly combination highlights the bags under his eyes and the wrinkles in his forehead. "Kali?"

     "Dad," I squeak, the word hitching on my throat as I realize even that is now technically a lie.

     "Your hair?" He gasps, shocked as I look away. He hadn't seen it yet... he'd been in the archives all day again. I briefly contemplate what I'm about to do; am I cruel for this? Does he want the truth? Or would he rather live in blissful ignorance?

     "You'll want this," I mumble, my voice raspy as I hold the glass to him.

- S U R I - A L I -

     "Suri Ali," General Barr addresses, leaning against the far wall of this room. Two guards flank the door, clearly there to keep me from leaving. The sunrise casts faint orange rays across this room, highlighting the patchwork bed and lone chair. There are no iron bars, but nobody would mistake this room's purpose.

     "The rightful heir to Al Kamara," he continues, hands in pockets. I avoid his gaze, preferring to look outside. I'm in a town of some sort, but I'm on a high enough floor that nobody can see me from the streets below.

     I hear something dragging into the room as Barr appears in my peripheral vision, chair in hand. He puts it opposite me, just past the window. The sunlight frames his face and bounces off his black goatee. "What do you think about me, Suri?"

     His odd question catches my attention, and I finally look his way. My nails dig into my palms as I imagine Adara's fright seeing this guy in the market square. "I'm abducted and a hostage. What do you think?"

     Barr's brow furrows as he sighs. "You've got it wrong."

     "Do you think I'm that stupid?" I question, glaring at him.

     "I actually think you're brilliant," he responds calmly, tapping his foot lightly. "I also know you're very curious about why you're here, even if you won't admit it."

     "Fuck off," I snap, looking away. Barr leans back, visibly frustrated. "You abducted me. Why don't we just skip to the part where you hold me for ransom or something?"

     "You think I'm a bad guy," he sighs lightly, a slight bit of discomfort on his face, like he's offended. "I'm on your team. I just want to talk. The sooner you do, the sooner you're out of here."

     I remain stationary, probing my options as he sits there, looking my way. I am curious, but I remember what happened only a few short hours ago. If they tranquilized Adara, they're probably not on my side. That much seems obvious.

     Light bouncing off a moving Barr catches my attention. "Do you understand Adara's entire mission was to bring you to us?"

     I look at him, nearly incredulous. "What?"

     "You know, that makes sense," he frowns, sitting up in the chair and leaning forward. "That's why you think I'm some villain. She lied to you."

     "No, she wouldn't," I respond, shaking my head. Absolutely not. I catch myself allowing a slight bit of anger to pass through my face, which I quickly hold back. Barr is just another gang leader to me - one with fancier toys.

     "I knew Adara for years, Suri," he mutters, pointing at himself. "She doesn't do right by people. Especially me, and I was her biggest cheerleader."

     "You expelled her," I counter.

     "I did," he answers, and I lean back in my seat. "Did she tell you why?"

     I look away, confusion etched in my mind. I put my poker face back on, but it's already too late. He knows this bothered me. "Tell me."

     "Well, let me tell you something else first," he says, leaning back. "I never lie. I know you assume I'm a bad person, but I don't lie to people. If there's anything you should believe about me, it's that."

     "Adara believes in saving everyone," Barr sighs, shrugging. "So did I. But there's a cost to idealism. She's on the same road I am; she just hasn't seen the bodies yet."

     "She's been close, though," he continues, pulling from his memory like an archive. "We were assigned a mission in Baghdad. As Delta Force, we were supposed to take out a terrorist communication center. Inside, they were coordinating an attack on Miami."

     "The place had a security system. Our job was to infiltrate, plant charges, and blow the operation sky high. We disabled the cameras and planted the charges. This was all timed down to the second. Only, there was a kid near the building."

     "You expect me to believe a word of what you're saying, CJ?" I poke, noting the General's reaction to calling him by his first name.

     "Yeah," he sneers, furrowing his brow. "The truth has a way of making sense.

     "Adara saw this, and she decided to save the kid. The problem was that it left the squad exposed to the cameras once they came back on. Their identities were put on the dark web soon after. To make matters worse, the explosives were timed, and Adara wasn't quick enough. The kid got blasted into pieces, right in front of her."

     I lean back, shocked at the story's dark turn. It did explain some things, unfortunately. Her anger about my attacking the militant in Syria flashes through my head. "What about the dark web?"

     "We were able to protect almost all of them from attempts on their life," Barr answers, looking away. "Except one. Home was invaded. He and his wife were hacked to bits."

     I keep my face stoic as Barr winces from his own story. Internally, things begin to click into place. Her overprotectiveness. Her fear of seeing this man. I know he's trying to use me - to rip me apart - but maybe there's some truth here after all? 

     "I don't believe you," I say calmly, nodding my head.

     Barr smirks, a half laugh escaping as he stands up, walks behind his chair, and leans on it. "Sure you don't, Prince."

     I roll my eyes as I lean back, fingers lightly shaking as my reality sets in. The least I can do is make it a pain for this guy when I'm inevitably tortured and killed-

     "I'm gonna give you a choice, Saleh," Barr poses, my eyes briefly going wide. How in the hell does he know this? For the first time, my veins turn to ice as I look at him incredulously. He reacts efficiently, like he's cataloging my distress and adjusting his pitch on the fly. "You have two options right now. You will be safe and unharmed either way, if you were curious."

     I grip my thigh slightly tighter as Barr sits back down. "So how about you listen and drop the snark for a minute?"

     I snort, gaining back a bit of my confidence and lying back in my chair with a smirk. A brief thought passes through my mind: What else does he know? "Let's hear your tale."

     He blinks, seemingly impressed as he holds up a finger. "Option one. You leave here a free man. You get to go back to Tripoli, return to your group, and pretend this whole thing never happened. No one even remotely associated with me will ever bother you again."

     I squint, waiting for the domino to drop. "The price you pay for your freedom is providing a sample of your genome."

     I stare at him, suddenly furious as I realize his offer. Small price, huh? Just the keys to my bloodline. The keys to Al Kamara. I'd be gifting the United States the Kamar on a silver platter. "Are you serious?"

     "I don't lie," he reminds, his face remaining measured as my own contorts in anger. The faces of the Port Boys slide through my mind as I realize what I'd have to sacrifice to see them again. These guys would inevitably stage a coup as well... could Shuma hold them off? What would happen to Kali?

     "You dare think I'd sell my bloodline out?" I bark, Barr reacting ever so slightly. I realize the princely tone in my voice, catching myself off guard as I stew on the thought.

     "Option two," Barr continues, holding up a second finger with deliberate calm. "You become the heir to Al Kamara. You don't have to give up a sample. Your bloodline is secured."

     I twist my head to the side, confusion washing over me as I process his words. "And the catch?" I sigh, trying to envision the words that would come from his mouth next.

     "It's a coup, Suri," Barr responds, and my face flushes red. "I won't make you kill Shuma Ali, of course. I'm not a monster. But yeah, the parents who threw you out and slandered you as a would-be assaulter of your sister would need to go."

     "Give up my bloodline or end my parents?" I laugh, in shock. "You are fucking evil. You call that a choice?"

     "Those slimy asshats ruined your chance at power," Barr retorts, his voice deepening. "Your sister thinks you're the scum of the Earth. I'm letting you choose between a normal life and redemption."

     He stands up, leaning in closer. His voice quiets, almost a whisper, as the hairs on my arms stand at attention. "Any other military guy would torture you until you knew nothing but pain for any info you knew. They'd steal your DNA without a second thought. That is evil. I'm trying to prevent a civil war in your homeland."

     Anger flushes from my face as he stands up, setting the chair back where it came from and walking towards the door. "When you choose who you are, let me know."