He directed me to his car and I pulled up beside it. Two men were in the car both in their 50's. They were both Pakistani with grey beards and were very dark skinned. The driver signalled for me to go to their car and I got out and the back door of their car opened. I got in and they introduced themseves as Mohammed and Abdu. They said they were waiters in a restaurant. From their strong accents and the way they dressed, I guessed they had not been in the country very long and were maybe. It was how she got her nickname, how she became known as..." The Black Queen?" I offered, interrupting."Lord save you, Sebastian, you do know her!" Yes and no," I said. "She was sent to assist in your capture, in your other's capture, but a few weeks ago she disappeared. We thought she had been taken, but..." That is not possible!" he swore, coming to his feet. "No! He could not take her unless he did not know it was she. There was a hierarchy among us, and she was the leader. We deferred to. This went on for awhile. She kept after to me to come up and see her at college but I just never had the time off to do it. Fall turned to winter and spring crept up on us. I was hoping when she was home for the summer we could spend more time with each other, but a course came open she wanted to take and she decided to stay at school. I wasn't particularly happy about that decision.Did she date others? Probably. We hadn't made promises to each other. Did I date others? Yes. Did I get laid? As. Instead, she took the conversation in a different direction. "Do you know," she almost whispered, "that you're touching me in a place that would get any other guy slapped."Actually I had been trying not to notice where my hands were. But now that she had brought it up, I became acutely aware of what I was doing. Her knee was raised and her legs were spread to grant me access to the cleat mark. To anyone just passing by, it could easily have looked like I was inappropriately touching her upper.
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