"You lied to me," Afina stared straight at the man sitting in front of her. He had his head between his hands and was nervously smacking his lips. Afina's eyes were boring into him, trying to fathom if he was worth her time.

"Afina look. I can explain. I didn't think you'd have to find out this way. I was going to tell you..."

"Stop rambling, Omar," her voice was hard, devoid of any emotions.

"Please don't leave me. I may not be the honest businessman that I claimed to be, but I'm not a bad person..."

"Shush," Afina bent down and touched a finger to his lips, making him gulp in fear.

"Afina, are you okay?" Omar asked, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. Afina slowly moved to the large glass wall that enclosed one side of their twentieth floor flat in the heart of Dubai. Her hands dived into the pockets of her silk robes. Without a warning, a cigarette was lit.

"Afina?" her name rather came as a question.

"No, I'm not," Afina whipped around and closed the distance between them in two long strides, her billowing gowns giving her the aura of the empress of the night.

"I'm glad you confessed to being involved in the drug business. Makes it easier for me," Afina's plum lips twisted in a smile.

"Why?" Omar's voice was barely a whisper.

"Cause baby, I am the queen of crime. Doesn't the entire Dubai want to know who leads the 'Black hand'?"

The dull glow of the cigarette made her face look dangerously alluring. Omar had heard of and feared the Black Hand like every other petty criminal in the city. Agile and utterly merciless, the gang was the mastermind of almost all criminal activities in the area. The police were putty in their hands. Omar stared in awe at his beautiful wife. Who would have known those diaphanous eyelids and long lashes hid such dangerous secrets for all these years?

     ————————

"Remember what I told you. Mouth shut, no talking. We're entering enemy territory," Afina hissed. Wrapped from head toe in a matted brown burkha, a basket of fruits in her hand, she could've easily passed off as a street peddler. Omar, on the other hand, had transformed himself into an old man and walked with a slight limp. The marketplace was milling with people and the din of the crowd mixed with the obnoxious smell of sweat made Omar nauseated. He was always used to luxury. He did his crimes with style.

"Why are we here?" Omar whispered.

"According to my intel, there's a consignment being handed over in this very marketplace between our rival gangs. My job is to..."

Afina stopped speaking. Her eyes scanned the crowd. The faint smell of gunpowder floated over to where they were standing. Her eye got caught on a man with a starched green kurta, who parked a sleek bike at the crossing between the lanes. Swiftly he got down and began seeing through he crowd with his expert eyes.

"Are you ready for some ride?" Afina chortled under her breath.

"Ride, what?" Afina gave a sidewise glance at Omar who had begun chewing his lips in nervousness again.

"How do you run rackets with this much amount of self-confidence?" Afina lips curled into a mocking smile.

"I am ready," Omar let out a sigh.

"Think twice. There'll be cross-firing and you could die." Afina nudged him with her elbow as they started walking again, slowly towards the alleys which were littered with betel juice, animal piss and half-torn posters.

"This is insane."

"All in a day's work," Afina smirked.

"Once Omar marries a girl, he's ready to accompany her through anything."

"That's sweet, babe," her lilting voice went straight through his heart like a ping of love mixed with sorrow. Afina's hands dived into her pocket and very causally she threw a small round globe at one of the empty stalls. A fire erupted with a whoosh and started gutting the inflammable cloth. Tongues of famed started licking the other shops. Panic ensued in the space of a heartbeat, as shoppers and keepers hither and tither.

Afina's eyes were focused on her target who was visibly disturbed by the chaos and looked uneasy.

"Wrestle him to the ground, go!" Afina's voice commanded. Omar shot up like an arrow from a taut bow. The man had little time to react as the muscular frame of Omar tackled him with perfectly aimed blows. Afina took the opportunity to grab the bike, swinging her petite frame over it and fired the ignition.

"Quick, get on," Afina looked nervously around, expecting the rival gang to burst in at any moment.

"Damn," Omar muttered. The man had outgrown the element of surprise and was now fighting back. Omar packed a solid punch. His knuckles connected with his skull and he heard the sickly scrunch of his bone. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he kicked him in the stomach and threw him off.

"Omar..." Afina warned and he swung on, just as the bike shot forward.

Afina screamed, "Hold on," as she desperately tried to manoeuvre her way through the crowd of people. They let out a cry and jumped out of her way, as she raced her vehicle, vicious like a serpent.

Crack!

Gunfire exploded behind them. Two more shots followed.

"What do we do now?" Omar bellowed over the whooshing of the wind.

"The game just got more fun!" Afina yelled, suddenly turning the handle with a jerk. Omar was almost thrown off the bike as she changed lanes. The gunshots just got louder as she dodged in and out of alleys and stayed one step ahead of their pursuers.

Omar dared a peek behind to find three bikes trailing them, the ones riding pillion had guns in their hand.

"How good is your tip?" Afina's question jolted him out from his terror.

"I learnt shooting as a middle schooler, best in class," Omar couldn't help brag even in the nerve-wracking situation.

"Check my pockets, there's a gun. Don't waste the bullets. Aim and fire. I don't care whom you hit," Afina breathed through clenched teeth. Omar leaned forward, pulling out a gun. The cold metal felt familiar in his hands.

Zing! Zing!

Two had fallen out of their bikes and the other bike's tire had burst like a balloon.

Omar trained his aim at the centre of the chest of the remaining rider, just as Afina swerve sharply to the left. He aimed but the shot missed as the rider ducked down. Omar fired again, this time hitting the one behind him. A cry was what he heard before they turned another bend, the bike's engine groaning from exhaustion.

"Highway. Good news," she informed, as their vehicle melted into the sea of cars and bikes. Afina slowed down. Her tensed shoulders now hunched down in relief as she adjusted the vehicle speed.

"So I got the ride and we didn't die. So perhaps I deserve some answers," Omar lightly kissed Afina's neck through the coarse fabric.

"Ravishing me can wait for our home. Questions are welcome," she teased.

"When did you learn to ride?"

"The same time as you learnt shooting.

"What is the thing we stole? Because I can't see a packet or anything. Don't tell me all this ruse was for nothing," Omar finally voiced his long-standing doubt.

Afina didn't utter a word as she screeched to a halt outside of an abandoned shack on the outskirts of Dubai. Omar got down obediently. Afina followed. Then she started to move around the bike, running her fingers over the dust-covered body. The predatory gleam in her eyes was a remnant of the day when she had broken the news to him.

"Here," she suddenly reached out and flicked a small lever. A hatch opened in the body of the bike. Omar's eyes widened as Afina pressed a little blue button to the side. A metal flap fell away. Afina reached inside and took out a small object which she held in the sun. The light glimmered off it in a million little prismatic reflections.

"Those are..."

"Jewels. Old ones. Each costing over a million dollars in the market," Afina's eyes glittered in the light reflecting off the handful she extracted again. Emeralds and sapphires, diamonds the size of a pigeon's egg, amethyst and rubies, all shimmered in their golden bed.

"Why do you all need to steal them taking such risks? Can't your gang just buy them off?"

"Where's the thrill in that?" Afina winked.

"So you do this for the rush of adrenaline," Omar concluded, heaving a sigh, massing his sore knuckles, "I broke a bone for this stupid adventure of yours."

"Let me heal it," Afina crooned, taking his hands in her soft palms and kissing them slowly. Who would've known such soft hands could accelerate bikes?

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THE END
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