by B K Thomas
***
ASG, Jordan
Major Westbrook smiles. He has Captain Ben Haim working for him now. He is receiving daily updates via email and has set up a weekly call to discuss the effort. So far there is really nothing to report but Westbrook knows they will find something. It happened like that most of the time. The most obscure detail will turn up where you aren’t really looking and the next thing you know you are hot on the trail of something big. It has happened to him more than once. He knows they have to keep their focus on the General. He is the key to finding the bad guys. If they don’t, they will miss the clue completely. The Major looks over the documents he has compiled about the kidnapping. He rereads the first tip-off message and the follow-up correspondence. He reviews the personnel documents they have gathered that detailed his work in Saddam’s regime as well as his work with the government. The man is resourceful. The Major has no doubt he will try to escape or send a message. He knows the General doesn’t have much of a chance and that the General knows it too, so he will have to try something. They just have to be looking to see it. He knows the Israelis had blown the case earlier, but they will still take it seriously even if they aren’t in charge. They always think they are in charge and the Major knows it. He smiles, he has to like them to some extent, they act a lot like the Americans.
***
Damascus, Syria
Sahila puts out the call in the next video they upload. The call to join the May 6th march has been issued but now she has to figure out how to get to New York. Yaqeena gets them online with a secure connection. Through their connections with the underground, they begin to learn about how to escape Syria and the variety of ways to do it. The routes are simple. They heard of them before in whispers but never in real detail. Some routes are more treacherous than others. They can go overland to Turkey, Lebanon or Israel or they can take a flight to Turkey. The problem with going through the air is a visa is required. Traveling by land in any direction is easier they learn from research, but the danger increases exponentially. They will have to trust smugglers. They will have to basically put their lives in the hands of criminals and trust them to keep their word. It isn’t just the criminals; the journey will be hard and some of the most dangerous times would be when they encounter checkpoints. Those men have to be paid off and they have to be trusted too. It’s simple but it isn’t easy.
“I just don’t know.” Sahila scratches her head as they walk out of the café. She has heard of people doing such things but never thought she would do it. The idea is so foreign they aren’t even sure how to decide. They have no reference point for these kinds of decisions. “Let’s go see Tarek, he’ll know what to do.”
“Are you sure?” Yaqeena stops to look at her then looks around nervously.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been thinking it over. You know, he may be a criminal, but he’s our cousin. He might be able to help us. At least we can trust him to point us in the right direction.” Sahila tells Yaqeena. “Who else can we trust here to help us leave? And who else will you trust with so much money involved?” She smiles. “Besides, he has a soft spot for us. He has always loved us like sisters.”
Yaqeena thinks for a moment. “You have a point. I worry about involving him. Do you think it’s worth the risk?”
“He’s already risking his life with what he does. We won’t make it any worse.” Sahila assures her.
They arrange to meet Tarek in the market. They walk through the market looking at the fruit and vegetables on display. Tarek appears beside them from out of one of the stalls unexpectedly. They had been instructed not to hug him or smile but to talk as they walked along in case anyone might be watching. They put their best serious faces on when he appears.
“Afternoon ladies.” He greets them looking down at some fruit in the stall to his right.
“Afternoon brother. We hope maybe you can help us find a new home?” Sahila asks playing the part.
“A new home?” The surprise in his voice is evident but he doesn’t look at them as they continue to walk down the aisle. “I might know someone that has one.”
“We need it for all of us. There will be four of us, our parents and us.” Sahila informs him.
“Oh, that’s a big house you’re looking for, but I think I know where we can find one.” Tarek continues. “Call me again in two days. I will find a seller for you.”
Before Sahila can say anything, he turns and walks in between two stalls and disappears.
Chapter 21
Homs, Syria
Mashal has become restless. They are so close to Damascus he wants to rush straight there to complete the first stage of his plan. He knows if he discards the plan will spell disaster, so it is just a passing thought, but on occasion, the temptation did tease him. He is confident they will reach their destination but there are legitimate obstacles. The Intelligence Directorates are busy watching everything and everyone. He knows they are always looking for him and his brothers. The Islamic State had been able to recruit numerous Syrians early in the civil war. They had provided valuable intelligence about the inner workings of the Syrian machine. The entire structure of its military and the intelligence directorates were made plain to him. They were able to determine who is in charge and how they worked. With such inside information, they knew where and how to manipulate the factions in the military against each other to sow confusion and paranoia throughout the ranks. The most effective tactic was to enlist soldiers onto their side and keep them inside the regime. This allowed his people to leverage them to gain access to areas they couldn’t normally as well as get intelligence on military movements and strategy. Their carefully planned passage through checkpoints is always risky but the risk is lowered by their network in action. At the safe house in Homs, the brothers provided them the details for their upcoming journey. Contacts would approve their passage through the first two known checkpoints, but they had not been able to determine if there would be any other checkpoints. It is a gamble to go early in the day because they might set up a surprise checkpoint. But the government can set up a new one up at any time, so the risk isn’t avoidable. They have done all they can to ensure they will get to the capital without getting caught. All they can do now is to enjoy their evening and get some rest.
They are on the road at six. Sunrise is expected at six twenty-two. The plan is to hit the first checkpoint as dawn is breaking. They plan to hit the second checkpoint before the guards are relieved at eight. The schedule is tight but easy to keep as long as there are no surprises. They clear the first checkpoint without any complications. Mashal is becoming cautiously optimistic they will make it to their next safe house as planned. He is pleased things are going so smoothly. The second checkpoint takes much longer. More vehicles have accumulated from all the secondary roads pouring into the highway. The highway is packed with people and vehicles. Some are soldiers moving back and forth along the highway, farmers taking goods into Damascus, and travelers headed to Damascus. Some are fleeing conflicts from Aleppo or other areas. A faint twinge deep inside makes him look up at the hills to the left and the right of the highway. It is a beautiful landscape and plenty of places along the highway where it narrows to pull off a perfect ambush. Those days might come, however, after this mission, the need for those tactics will be a distant memory. When Mashal executes his plan, everything will change. The need for such mundane tactics will be over if things fall into place as he expected. He focuses his attention on the road and the checkpoint ahead. The traffic makes the process stop and go. The checkpoint is changing guards by the time their group reaches the checkpoint. Their contact hangs around long enough to expedite their passing with a hug and talk about their times in the army together. A few smiles all around, and they are on the highway cruising once again.
Mashal asks with a slight grin as they sped away. “General, are you surprised about the amount of support we have among the Syrians?”
“Not really, they have many problems. Since the civil
war erupted, many are desperate for a solution.” The General replies without any indication of his feeling on the matter.
Latching on to the positive Mashal agrees. “Yes General, we have the only solution. These secularists and infidels think their man-made systems will solve their problems, but they don’t realize that Allah has sent his prophet Mohammed to show everyone the solution. We will show the world how close they are to the arrival of the promised one. Then this world will truly begin to change. What you have seen so far in Iraq, and other places, with the rise of the Islamic State, is the tip of the iceberg General. Once we complete the first step of this mission, we will see an uprising across the world, the likes of which, has never been seen. This I promise you, General your service to Allah will be fondly remembered before we are done if you have come to your senses.”
The General looks out of the window at the hills in the distance and remembers back to his youth. Religion never suited him. Like most families in Iraq, he is raised a Muslim. He was caught up in it as a child for a short time, but with the freedom to make more choices, the mystical nature of it faded as the utility of it increased. To get things done he had to work within the system of Islam so he could relate to the people around him. It is required where he is born. If he had been born in Europe or America, he would have no doubt been a Christian. Regardless of where he was born, he is confident his efficient use of the system would have emerged more than any faithfulness. He looks at Mashal in the front seat. Mashal is a true believer. The General has no doubt he is on a power trip. He thinks he is invincible, but he is a true believer, that much is obvious. It’s what makes him so dangerous. Mashal will risk it all for what he believes and what he believes is a murderous path to ushering in paradise on Earth. The irony is not lost on the General, but it does not lessen the reality that it is driving Mashal. Whether the General converts or not and whether Mashal dies or not is ultimately irrelevant to Mashal. He believes it will all lead to the return of the Mahdi and one way or another they are destined to be a part of it. At the outset of the journey, the General had been caught up in the distress of his family’s suffering. He hoped somehow; he would fabricate some sort of escape to rescue them. The precision of his captor’s plan has left no room for creative getaways. His time is running out and his only hope of sending a message can be at the very checkpoints where they can all get killed.
***
Damascus, Syria
It is dinner time and tabbouleh is on the table. Their father is sitting at the table already drinking tea and smoking a cigarette. The radio in the corner is softly playing local music.
“Hello, Baba,” They say as they shower him with hugs and kisses.
“Daughters!” He smiles in delight and returns the affection.
They continue to the kitchen and give the same to their mama. They eat dinner and enjoy all the flavors of the local market. The mixture of tomatoes, parsley, mint, bulgur, and onion. The seasonings made the mixture a delight. The hot tea after the meal is perfect with the pastries the girls have bought for the occasion. They understand they will be asking a lot of their parents. They expect there will be opposition, but they hope they will be willing to do it. They know if they choose to stay, they might not ever have another chance. Sahila walks over to the radio and turns up the volume.
“Baba” Sahila gathers her strength as she walks back to the table and continues. “Yaqeena and I are going to leave Syria and we want you and mama to come with us.” She half blurts out from nervousness and fear.
He closes his eyes as he takes a slow drag from his cigarette. He blows the smoke into the air and watches as it dances around on its way up and disappear. “Why would we want to leave?” He asks devoid of emotion. Sahila expected this but knows she has to try. She looks at her mama, but her mama looks down when their eyes meet. When she looks back up the sadness in her eyes is evident. Her mama’s eyes water up and a tear escapes as she holds back the flood of sadness as she has done for so long. Sahila and Yaqeena have tried to talk them into leaving for years now. The longer the war dragged on, the opportunities to leave safely became harder to come by.
“Baba, there are many reasons to go. The war draws closer all the time. Our own family has been killed. We have all felt the ground shake from explosions. People disappear. One group or another takes them, and they don’t come back. If they do come back, they’re ghosts of who they once were.” Sahila recalls. They had seen it all in the families and people around them.
“What does that have to do with us? We are not bothering anyone.” He takes another drag on his cigarette. “This is my home Sahila, this is your home. I have lived here all my life. Like my parents before me. I will not leave my home.” He states as he looks directly at her for emphasis.
Sahila is not swayed, “There is more Baba.” She pauses for a moment but keeps on. “We are leaving. We must. We are wanted by the government.”
He laughs but sits up curious at the admission. “Why would my daughters be wanted by the government? What threat can you possibly be to them?” He says in contempt. “What can you do to frighten them?”
His words sting but she explains, “We have started a rebellion against all the governments killing of our people.” Her voice is stronger with each word. Her spirit grows strong as the words build upon each other.
“Which governments?” He asks for clarity.
“Ours, the Russians, the Americans, the Iranians and the rest of them.” She waves her hand indicating they are everywhere. “None of them care about us and it is time they are made to answer for killing us.”
His face contorts. “What are you saying? You put Syria on the same level as the Americans?”
“You are not hearing what I am saying, Baba. None of them care about us and our deaths.” She emphasizes.
He stares at her sternly. He never let such things be said around him. He is angry enough to smack her and feels the anger within him rising to that level. He catches himself and pulls another drag on his cigarette instead. He blows the smoke out once again and he feels better. He gives a half-smile to his daughters. He pities them and their lack of loyalty and faithlessness. “I love my country. I have served my country. I served with honor.” A look of indignation spreads across his face.
“I know Baba, but you love the ideals of this country.” Tears start to flow down Sahila’s cheeks as the emotion overcomes her. “You love the people, our heritage, our land, I love these too,” her body is shaking “but the governments do not. The people that fill them only crave power. They seek to drain everything they can from the people our energy, creativity, blood and ultimately our life. They are not what you served or love. The time has come to leave this country. We can come back when this war is over. If we don’t leave now, we may not ever leave.” She looks at her mama who is crying also but knows it will be his decision. He is blinded by his loyalty to a country that doesn’t exist if it ever did. A hazy figment of imagination that makes the discussion even harder for her to negotiate.
He sits back in his seat finally. He absorbs the words. It is too much for him to take though. They strike home but he has been loyal to his country all of his life. He doesn’t like everything their leaders do but he celebrates his country at every opportunity. He has seen his share of abuses throughout his years, but his love of his country always rose above them. He sat looking at his two daughters. Who have they become? They have experienced a great deal of suffering under all of the chaos. He knows this will change people’s minds and challenge their loyalties. His daughters have suffered a great deal. The strong one, Sahila, has suffered the most with the loss of her husband. But she has been brave and continues to live life with joy. His chest rises with the thought of their courage.
“I know you have been sad since your husband was killed.” He becomes emotional remembering the heartbreak of his daughter as he brings up the fresh memory. “I know you have had a lot of pain. I am sure this new revolution in your heart is born out of it. I kn
ow what you are saying sounds right in your heart, but our country is our home. You are bringing danger upon yourself and our family. You might very well get us all killed. I would turn you in myself if I thought it would do any good. In your pain, you have become a fool. Like a child throwing a tantrum who doesn’t get their way. You have probably destroyed our family.” He shakes his head in disgust. “This time you will be slapped by a hand greater than you can imagine. Will it be worth it all? It has already cost you. You are no longer my daughter. You do what you must, but we will stay here. You will have to find another place to live.” He finishes and his countenance goes stiff once again. He stands and looks at her for a moment then walks out of the room.
Sahila nods accepting her father’s words and cries. Her mama comes over and they hug. Yaqeena has managed somehow to stay silent throughout the exchange and joins the hug and they cry together. Sahila looks over her mama’s shoulder at her father as he walks out of the room. The last trace of her father is the cloud of smoke in the doorway that follows him. She clings to her mama hoping there is a way everything will work. She can’t help but wonder if it is the last time she will see them.
Chapter 22
PSD, Damascus
Officer Umar flips through the sheets of paper on his desk. He has made this woman his top priority and that goes for everyone else under his command. So far, they have nothing. Each video has been shot in a different location so whoever is behind this is smart. Since the videos have been filmed all over the city, the task to find them has been quite a challenge. He and his men have been to the soccer stadium looking for clues but came up empty. They canvassed the apartments near the soccer fields, but no one knows her. No one has seen her either. He is realistic. Most people won’t talk for fear of being questioned further. They will be scared they might be taken in to determine their connection to the woman in the videos. But if he does just round people up, many will say something, anything just to make him happy, but it might not be anywhere near what they need to find her. Their best bet is to find the woman or someone who recognizes her. He has his men on it. This has steadily eaten away hours of manpower, but it doesn’t matter. She has to be found. He calls for a car and joins in the search himself again. It is plain to see in the video. She can reignite the cause of rebellion if they allow her to continue. Her passion is dangerous to the government. He knows such ideas are a far-fetched dream, but he also knows people love to dream. Dreams are dangerous if they take root. If this woman’s dream became reality, he will have to flee Syria himself. People like her are always dangerous to him. If they take power, they will hunt him down. He can’t let that happen. He takes the car with his driver. They begin retracing the old video locations. They canvass the location and interview everyone. They visit all the shops around the stadium and show a picture of her to everyone they can find. They don’t get any better results than the men he has already sent to the areas earlier. No one knows anything. It makes him a little paranoid. Are they all in on it? Do they hope she will set off a new wave of rebellion? Don’t they know what’s at stake with such games? If she is able to keep on inciting rebellion it won’t end well for any of them. There’s not a government anywhere that allows this, especially ours.