by B K Thomas
“Well, we believe they are across the border. We are trying to pinpoint their location as we speak.” The Captain stretches the facts a little more.
“Okay, well, do you know at least which road they came across on?” The Major pushed again.
“Why yes, as a matter of fact, we think they came over near Al Bukamal on Highway 4. We are trying to find them right now. Our ground assets spotted them in Iraq headed out on Highway 4 so we’re pretty confident.” The Captain comments leaving out the vital piece.
“This is great news Captain; why don’t you give me a call as soon as you have their location. We have some assets in the area that might be able to help if you’re interested.” Westbrook offers, playing the game.
“Of course, Major, I will call you as soon as I have some hard data.” The Captain promises as he hangs up the phone.
“Sergeant, we have any confirmation on the group yet?” The Captain asks impatiently.
“Negative sir, we’re still waiting to hear back from our guys.” The Sergeant smiles about the Captain’s dance with the Major. He has to admire the tact he uses. It was a slick round with the Major. The Major wants a piece of the action, but the Sergeant knows better. The Captain isn’t giving this intelligence over much less the operation. “Think he’ll call back soon sir?”
“If we hit them before he does call, I’ll reach out to him and let him know. I appreciate his position but there is no way we’re going to let them take charge of this operation. This is our territory. He’s been trying to work his way into this operation nonstop. I heard that he’s making calls up his chain of command trying to force his way into this operation. But we’re not letting him in and I’m more than happy to keep him on the sidelines for this one. This isn’t the policy flavor of the week or a chance to get a promotion, this is our survival.” The Captain is firm in his decision. “Besides, it’s fun to keep them guessing. They think they run the world.” The Captain concludes with a smile of satisfaction as he turns to look at his map. “It’s nice once in a while to remind them that they don’t.”
Chapter 16
Damascus, Syria
“I think I have it all set up now,” Yaqeena announces as she strikes the enter key on the laptop. “At least I followed the instructions.” She adds with a smile staring at the screen.
“So, what do we do now?” Sahila asks, a little awed by the day’s work.
“Well, we need to test the new communications setup. So, we probably need to send out another update.” Yaqeena thinks for a moment. “I have been reading about how to build a social networking platform as they call it. We must post updates regularly and find ways to involve people. I don’t know how right now, but it will come to us. From what our friends online have told me, at least I know we can’t send videos or other postings from our house anymore. Just like we have to shoot them in random locations we must post them from a café or somewhere else but not at home anymore. We have to keep changing our location when we connect to the internet and use the tools that our friends have given us. If we do these things it will make it harder for the government, ours or someone else’s to track us down.”
“You are becoming quite the spy little sister.” Sahila teases.
“Yes, well we must protect ourselves.” She states with a serious tone. Her face lights up as she speaks again. “Are you ready to go do a video?” She asks excited about the progress they are making and eager to test out the new setup.
“Yes, I have become more security-minded like you and I think you are right. We should start doing some videos across town where no one knows who we are, and we are not even close to our family.” Sahila suggests.
“Yes, we should probably not do them anywhere near our home.” Yaqeena agrees as a feeling of sadness swept over. She looks at her sister impressed once again by her strength in the face of all they have gone through so far.
“And if we keep the places random and far away, I think we have a better chance of not getting caught.” Sahila winces at the thought of it. “We have to stay alert. Especially away from home. We must keep our eyes open since the government and rebels can show up almost anywhere. We can stumble into an enemy from one side or the other by accident if we’re not paying attention.”
“Yes, sister.” Yaqeena acknowledges. “You are right. I am glad we are doing this together. Let’s go shoot a new video.”
They leave the apartment and walk down the street a few blocks from the house and wait at a bus stop. The schedule has become irregular the longer the civil war has drug along but today one shows up only ten minutes late. They board the bus and find a seat. Sahila digs the fare out of her purse and passes a coin to pay for the ride to the passenger in front of them and says it is for two. He passes the coin forward relaying the message until it makes it to the driver. The driver makes the change and sends it back. The passengers all pass the change back until it makes its way to her. Despite all the changes the war has brought the people are still living like they did before the war. They are still ready to help each other. There is some comfort in knowing some things have not changed. Sahila longs to return to the way things were before, but she knows it is a dream that will never come true. She stares out of the window dreaming of better days as the bus drives through downtown and out again. They arrive at a stop near a hospital and exit the bus. They walk to another stop and jump onto another bus and repeat the payment process. The bus takes them to the other side of the city where Sahila tells the driver they need off. Sahila has picked out a cemetery for the next shoot. Yaqeena is surprised but appreciates the boldness of her sister. Her willingness to confront the viewers with the reality of the war and the impact it is having is brilliant. They walk into the graveyard and can see stones piled near the front for the expected burials that are coming in waves. Whether they are generated from the ISIS or rebel attacks in the area or the deaths from the front lines, there is a constant flow of death in Syria and it permeates the countryside. They walk further into the center of the cemetery past rows of marble and stone into a newer area where stone gives way to metal and other grave markings. The destruction of the country’s economy and the chokehold that the West has placed on trade and finance has brought the people to their knees financially. They were able to survive the first year without much impact on their welfare. The second-year made things a little tighter and each year the financial strain became greater to the point where even the simple pleasures are no longer easy. Going out for a coffee became an occasion instead of a daily routine. Many friends have tried to survive the siege of the West to barely have enough money to escape into Lebanon or another nearby country. The choices are limited with the flood of refugees pouring from the region into neighboring countries to escape the plague of ISIS and the unrest throughout the Middle East and Africa. Sahila’s family has decided to stay and her new husband was determined to build something in defiance of the destruction raining down all around them. Sahila wants to stay. She wants to be near her family. She also wants to escape the madness and the daily struggle to survive. She also wants to defy the world and prove them all wrong by surviving the siege.
She views the West’s siege as an attack on her and her family. She knows Assad will hardly feel the pain of the clamps being placed on the economy. His family has ruled for decades. He will hardly notice. She and the rest of the common people will be the ones to suffer. She cannot bring herself to reward their cruelty by fleeing. She did not want to support Assad, but she did not want to validate their methods either. They are fools to suppose that somehow, they will cripple her country with their sanctions. They have survived for thousands of years without the West and they will continue to do so. She has little love for the supposed rebels fighting against Assad. They are mostly mercenaries and fighters from all over the Middle East. There are few that represent her country’s best interests. Most are there just to get a chance to replace Assad. They could be even worse than him for all anyone knows. She would rather fight for a peac
e worth having than settle for Assad or some radical group that wipes out freedom entirely.
The bus comes to a stop. Sahila’s attention is snapped back to the present. She looks toward the front of the bus to see a couple of soldiers, through the window, waiting at the bus stop. Everyone sits still. No one gets off but one soldier steps onto the bus. Are they here for someone or just catching a ride? Sahila wonders. She can tell the one who stepped onto the bus is the one in charge. He doesn’t carry a rifle like the others. He speaks with the driver for a moment then turns toward the passengers. “Good afternoon everyone. I need to have you all step off the bus for a moment.” He pauses and adds as the passengers start to look around. “It won’t be long, and you will be back on your way shortly.” He says with an encouraging smile and waves them to come forward.
Sahila and her sister exchange looks. Sahila gives an assuring nod toward her sister whose eyes have grown big. They both rise with the rest of the passengers and Sahila exits the bus with her sister behind her.
Yaqeena’s heart is racing. Is this it? Is it over already? How can they have caught us so quickly? She tries to remain calm. She can feel her heartbeat in her throat. She suddenly feels weak and faint. How did they find them? Is their family in danger too? She starts to shake slightly and thinks her heart will explode with the amount of adrenaline pumping through her. Should I run? She is willing to die but she doesn’t want to be tortured. Maybe I can force their hand if I attempt to run. As that thought passes through her head Sahila grabs her hand. They walk side by side as they walk away from the bus. Yaqeena looks at her sister and a wave of relief sweeps over her. Sahila’s calm face reassures her.
“We’re going to be okay,” Sahila whispers softly hardly moving her mouth.
Yaqeena catches the breath that had escaped at the sight of the soldiers. Her chest rises with the deep breath she takes in to calm herself down. The fog in her head clears and her legs feel stronger. She lets the breath out quietly and slowly. The tension between her shoulders release enough for them to drop. Sahila smiles seeing her sister relax. Yaqeena sees the strength in her sister that everyone sees in the videos. This time it isn’t in a rage or passionate call to rise up against the injustice of the world. This time it is just for her. She needed her sister and her sister rose to the occasion, as always. This is the strength she has seen all her life. When the world around her is chaotic she can always count on her sister to be steady and help her see the way out. She smiles back at her sister and squeezes her hand to acknowledge she is ok.
The soldiers corral the group away from the bus. One by one the passengers are called up and ordered to produce an identification card. A soldier motions Sahila toward the man in charge. He stands talking with two soldiers near the bus. He wears a tan and brown camouflage uniform. The uniforms of the soldiers are different and don’t match each other. It is yet another reminder of the fractured country they live in. Not even the government is able to reflect order in their military. The soldiers project a sense of purpose and order to the people around them. But their uniforms shout to Sahila that things are not as together as the government wished them to believe. The only sense of authority the soldiers project is by the weapons they hold. She scoffs at the preposterous display of control they are trying to establish. The guns make a statement that cannot be denied though, so she plays along.
The man in charge is a handsome middle-aged man. His black hair is neat, and he is well-groomed. He carries himself like a career military man. He has the look of an educated man. If he is one of the henchmen of the regime, he hid it well.
“I apologize for the interruption.” He begins with a pleasant smile and warm eyes. He neglects to introduce himself and continues. “We will have you on your way in no time.”
Sahila stares at him without offering any word and he continues.
“Do you have an identification card on you?” He asks and extends his hand with his palm up.
The shock of the situation made her forget to get it out as ordered already. “Yes.” She states and digs into her wallet to produce the document.
“Where are you going today?” He asks as he studies the card.
“I am going with my sister to relax and take photos at Tishreen Park.” Her heart quickens with the deceptive statement.
“Oh yes, that is a beautiful place. Do you go there often?” He hands her card back to her.
“We haven’t been in a while. I thought it would be good to see it again. A reminder of the peaceful times.” She answers reminiscent.
He studies her. “Yes, the peaceful times.” He echoes. He is lost in her eyes as the thought of peaceful days capture him for a moment then he returns. His face asks a question that he doesn’t voice then he releases her. “You can go. Enjoy your visit to the park.”
Fear nips at Sahila as she sits on the bus watching her sister go through questioning. The man in charge has frightened her. He looked at her so deeply she thought he must suspect something. She is even more concerned now that her sister might not hold up under the pressure. The longer Yaqeena speaks with the soldier the more Sahila can tell by the look on her sister’s face that she is going to be fine.
“Thank you,” Yaqeena says with a smile in response to the soldier’s dismissal as she takes her card then returns to the bus. The rest of the group go through questioning and board the bus as the sisters sit next to each other in silence. The bus driver starts the engine and closes the door when the last person finally sits down. The stop has been uneventful, and no one has been detained but it takes over an hour before they are moving again. The bus lurches forward, and a collective sigh of relief is expressed as it starts to move away finally. Sahila looks back at the man in charge as they pull away. To her alarm, her eyes meet his. He is looking at her through the window as they drive out of sight. A chill goes down her spine. Does he know? If he did, why doesn’t he stop us? Did he recognize her? She begins to replay their interaction and grows nervous as she realizes the conversation is brief. What did that mean? She starts to question everything. Did he catch something right away but didn’t want to tip her off? Did he realize something as they drove away? Will the bus be stopped again to take us off? Her stomach begins to turn at the barrage of questions that are flooding her mind. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes to calm herself down. As she let out the breath she feels better. It doesn’t matter she finally decides. She is going to do what she has set out to do. If he does catch her, she has already made an impact.
Chapter 17
Deir ez-Zur, Syria
Mashal, the General and the rest of the group enter the apartment building and walk up three floors. Mashal knocks on a door and waits. He looks back at the General and smiles. He is enjoying leading the General around by the collar too much the General thinks to himself. The door opens to an armed man who immediately smiles and greets Mashal with a huge embrace. He waves for them to come inside. The room is full of noise. The General follows along with the others. The room is full of men with weapons and a woman in the kitchen. Mashal sits down at the table with the man who greeted him, and they begin to talk. The General makes his way to a corner and leans against a wall and studies the scene. They are warriors. All of them. He can see it in their faces and the way they move. They look curiously at the scientist who stands out among the hard men. The woman leaves the kitchen and moves to the table with a tray of glasses and a teapot. She offers the newcomers tea then scurries back to the kitchen. She follows the tea up with some bread and dip. The men in the room make their way to and from the table taking what they need. It is a casual atmosphere but with an air of discipline. The General walks over to the table and grabs a cup of tea and walks back and leans against the wall again. He knows he isn’t welcome unless invited. Mashal continues his conversation then frowns. The General watches the table over his cup as tries to pick up any clues. Mashal talks with the man a little longer and nods occasionally. Finally, they both stand up and hug each other. They say goodb
ye and the General starts to push away from the wall to restart their journey. Then he sees the stranger leaving and Mashal remain in the room. The General stands sipping his tea watching the room. The men that were in the apartment when they arrived follow the man who is leaving. They stream out of the apartment building into the vehicles that brought the General’s group. Thirteen men entered the building and thirteen exit. The game is afoot.
“Relax General. We must wait for a little while.” Mashal calls out to him with a grin. “Did you have some bread yet?” He asks pointing to the spread in front of him.
The General walks toward the table. “No, I thought you would rather talk without me around.”
“That is very thoughtful of you General. I appreciate your awareness. That is what has kept you around for so long I suspect. But now come over and enjoy.” Mashal welcomes him and hands him a document. “This is your new identity General. You will be Saqib from now on. You will need to learn the information. When we are stopped at the checkpoint you need to be ready to tell them who you are. After all, it will look suspicious for an Iraqi to be traveling with a bunch of Syrians. Your family depends on your accuracy.” Mashal’s words are measured.
The General looks at his new Syrian passport. Saqib, the shining star. He reads the details and reaches for a piece of bread. With his new identification in hand, he watches as Mashal gives the rest of the men new passports and gathers the old ones. Zamir the scientist is uncomfortable and looks nervous. The General understands the look. It is common for first-timers. The scientist has no reference point for any of this hide and seek with guns. The General can tell by looking at him. He has been an Academic all his life. He is in over his head, just like the General. They are all Syrians now.
***
Mossad, Tel Aviv, Israel
“Sir!” Sergeant Eli calls out. “Sir, they are on the move. They’ve loaded back up into the four trucks and are pulling out.”