Son of Syria

by Schafer, Ben

  We reached the mess hall in less than two minutes. It was in the middle of the ship, situated at an intersection of corridors that would allow easy access from any other section of this deck. “There are two entrances,” the captain told me. “One on the starboard side and the other leading aft. I figure if we each take a door, we can get this thing done in no time.” Captain Grimm took a step forward. I grabbed the captain’s shoulder and pulled him back.

  “What the hell do you—”

  I put a finger to my lips. Captain Grimm glowered at me, but he shut up. For a moment, I thought that I was imagining things. Then I heard the faint rustle of cloth moving against cloth ahead of us. From the way he stopped tugging, I guessed that Captain Grimm heard it, too.

  Jamil wasn’t an idiot. Even if he didn’t want to waste manpower by posting sentries to keep an eye on the imprisoned crew, he wasn’t going to leave his interrogation chamber unguarded. One sentry was positioned outside the mess hall. He walked around in circles and the short corridors meant that no one side was unseen for longer than a handful of seconds. Even if the captain and I somehow got in position and breached the room in one of these short windows of opportunity, the sentry would shoot us as he came around for his next pass. We had to take him out or the whole plan would fail.

  Captain Grimm lifted his stolen weapon, but I pushed it down. At this point, a gunshot would only alert Jamil that we were coming. This had to be down quietly. I gave the captain a series of brief hand gestures. I don’t think he understood any of them, but he was a smart guy and knew what I was thinking.

  The captain moved straight forward, positioning himself so that he would be clearly seen the next time the sentry came this way. Meanwhile, I moved around the corner and followed the same path the sentry had. It was a delicate trick, moving with both speed and stealth. If I was discovered, this plan wouldn’t work. If I was too slow, I couldn’t get close enough to take the sentry out before he shot Captain Grimm or shouted out an alarm.

  Fortunately, the sentry wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings. I don’t think he realized the danger. Bad news for him, great news for me.

  Inattentive or not, when he turned the corner he couldn’t help but notice the man pointing a gun at him from fifteen feet away. The sentry tensed and began to lift his rifle, but I was there in an instant. I covered his mouth and slid my other arm around his neck. Once it was nice and tight, I released his mouth and clasped my hands together until the blood from his carotid arteries slowed to a trickle. A few seconds later, he was out of the fight. I released him, then nodded to Captain Grimm.

  “Neat trick,” the captain whispered. He sauntered toward me. “When I round the corner, wait ten seconds and go in hot.”

  I shook my head. “No shooting unless we need to. I don’t want one of my friends getting caught in the crossfire.”

  Captain Grimm clenched his jaw. “Fine. But if somebody moves a gun toward me, I’m putting him down.”

  “Fair enough.”

  It was hardly the ideal strategy, but we didn’t have the time or manpower for anything better. I waited until Captain Grimm disappeared around the corner, then started counting.

  One. Two. Three.

  The captain should be in position at the starboard door and starting his own abbreviated count by now.

  Four. Five. Six.

  I put my hand on the door handle and began applying light pressure. It was unlocked, and I breathed a sigh of relief. A locked door would have ended this plan before it started.

  Seven. Eight. Nine.

  Please, God, I prayed silently. Let this work.

  Ten.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  BROWNING raised, I threw the door open and scanned for threats. Despite my words to Captain Grimm, I was ready to fire if any threats presented themselves. The difference was that I wouldn’t provoke such an attack to justify killing someone. The door opened outward, so I had to ensure that I was back far enough that I wouldn’t block it with my body. Once it passed in front of my face, I stepped into the mess hall.

  It was once a mess hall. Now it was just a mess. Most of the long tables had been shoved toward the walls, opening a clear space in the middle of the room. Along the wall to my right were four folding metal chairs. Only the farthest chair was occupied. It took me a second to realize that the limp figure with long, stringy black hair plastered on her face was Khamilah.

  The other figures in the room, however, were easy to identify. Three men in khaki military uniforms stood around a single table at the center of the room, two of them with their backs to me while the third held a jug of water in his hands. These men didn’t even notice my entrance. Their attention was focused on Nadir, who had been strapped to the table.

  I had interrupted a waterboarding session in progress. Nadir’s dress shirt was ripped from his collar to his abdomen and a rumpled suit jacket lay discarded at the soldiers’ feet. The final person in the room was man in an oil-stained T-shirt and jeans. He stood beside the other door and oversaw the scene with a sense of cold detachment. Unlike his men, Jamil saw me come into the room. His reaction was a flicker of surprise.

  He didn’t have a whole lot of time to react before a vicious blow from Captain Grimm’s Browning sent him sprawling to the deck.

  The other soldiers jumped in surprise, the water jug tossed aside as they fumbled for their weapons. I let out a gentle cough and the men snapped their heads in unison to take in the new threat. “Guys,” I said, tilting my head to the pistol in my hand. “That’s not a good idea.”

  The soldiers seemed to agree. Their hands moved from their belts to their heads. I stayed still as Captain Grimm stepped forward to relieve the soldiers of their firearms. One of the men, the one who had been carrying the jug, almost made a move for his sidearm. He changed his mind when Captain Grimm shoved the barrel of his Browning into the man’s chin.

  “Go ahead,” the captain challenged. “These bulkheads need a new coat of paint, anyway.” The soldier met the captain’s gaze, then his eyes drooped. Captain Grimm unhooked the man’s belt with his free hand and it dropped to the deck. He sniffed. “That’s what I thought.”

  Once the men were disarmed, Captain Grimm shot Khamilah a meaningful look. “Are you all right?”

  “What do you think?” she spat. “We’ve been beaten, threatened, and tortured the entire time we’ve been on this cursed ship.”

  “Hey, now,” the captain had a wounded look on his face. “No need to insult a man’s ship when he just saved your life.”

  Nadir, still upside down on the table, spat out a crude gag that had been stuffed in his mouth. “Thank you, Captain. We are in your debt.”

  Captain Grimm snorted. “Tell me about it. But you should really thank your guardian angel here.”

  Nadir lifted his head to get a good look at me. “Huh?”

  “It’s me, Nadir,” I reassured him. I undid the straps that held him to the table and offered him my hand. He took it and sat up, his legs hanging off the edge of the table as he caught his breath. I offered him his jacket, which he accepted with a grateful nod.

  Captain Grimm shifted his gaze back to me. “I’ll give you three some alone time. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to talk about. In the meantime,” he threw a jab into the stomach of the man who had tried to resist him, “me and the boys are gonna take ourselves a field trip.”

  “Be careful.”

  I could see the captain form a sarcastic reply, but he thought better of it. “I’ll set aside a cozy space for your friend there so you can chat when he comes to,” Captain Grimm said as he glanced at Jamil. He gestured with his pistol. “You there,” he told one of the soldiers. “Pick this man up. He’s coming with us.” A shadow passed over his face. “And then you’re going to take me to my crew.”

  “I can’t believe Jamil was a spy all along,” Khamilah said when we were alone, her voice a whisper. “How did he fool Father Abiad?”

  Nadir grunted as he eased off the
table. “In all likelihood, the man we met killed the actual Jamil after Father Abiad made contact.”

  Khamilah lifted a hand to her mouth. “How horrible!”

  Nadir shrugged. “Perhaps, but it would not be the first time someone used that tactic. If word got out about the real Jamil’s intention to leave Syria, the regime would have a vested interest in determining who exactly was providing him his ticket out of here.”

  I thought about last words Hafiz whispered to me on the steps of the Chapel of St. Paul. “Hafiz may have suspected something. He tried to say something to me after he was shot. It was cryptic, and I wasn’t sure what he was saying. At first, I thought he was accusing me of being a spy. Now I think he was trying to warn me about Jamil.”

  “If he knew something, why didn’t he tell Father Abiad? Or us?” Khamilah asked.

  “He mentioned his family. Maybe the regime threatened them. Or maybe he was concerned that any warning would be traced back to him. Either way, he was trapped.”

  “Do you think the Mukhabarat arrested him or Father Abiad?” Khamilah asked. She gasped. “What if they are sitting in a jail somewhere right now? What if the regime sent soldiers to execute them after the plan changed?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. Jamil, or whatever his real name is, was talking, said Abbas changed the game when he came to take his son. They wouldn’t risk informing their superiors until they had achieved their objective.”

  “You mean torturing you to discover your true identity,” Khamilah realized.

  “I think they are more interested in the men I work for, but that’s the right idea.” I nodded. “If Abbas has gone rogue, then the rest of Syrian intelligence may not even know about us. Not the specifics, anyway.”

  I didn’t want to add that the real danger to the priest and his assistant would have come from Khamilah’s handlers, not Abbas. She had enough guilt as it was. “Either way, there’s nothing we can do for them now. When I get back, I’ll try to get resources sent to Damascus to ensure their safety. Right now, we have to get you out of the country.”

  “We all have to get out of the country,” Khamilah said.

  Nadir put a comforting arm around his wife. For the first time, they looked like a loving couple. “That’s right. Azima and Hashim have become like family to us. There is no way we would want to leave them behind.”

  “Especially after Jamil’s betrayal and . . .” Khamilah’s voice trailed off. “And Omar.” She looked at me and, I swear to God, smiled. Removed from her full-body covering, she was actually an attractive woman with a sweet smile. “Now go get them back.”

  As we talked, two members of Captain Grimm’s crew entered the room and collected the weapons scattered on the deck. The captain himself followed a moment later. He was in his element as he strode around the room barking orders. “Once you’ve finished,” he told his men, “tell the others to dump these dopes in one of the lifeboats. Get the engines running. I want to be in international waters within the hour.”

  I stepped forward. “Captain, we can’t leave now. Azima and Hashim are still being held captive.”

  “So what?” Captain Grimm asked.

  “So we have to save them,” I replied.

  He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the corridor. “Look, kid, I like you. You remind me of myself when I was young and stupid.”

  “Your inter-personal skills are overwhelming, Captain.”

  The captain shrugged. “Take a compliment when you can get it. I understand that you want to play the hero and get the girl, but I won’t be party to suicide, especially my own. If we wait around too long the whole damn army will come breathing down our necks.”

  He pointed into the room where Khamilah and Nadir were standing. “I don’t know who Mr. and Mrs. Sunshine in there are supposed to be, but I’m guessing that you don’t want the regime to get their grubby mitts on them. Which is exactly what will happen unless we leave. Right now.”

  He started to walk away. I moved into his path. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in frustration. “Jirair, you’re asking me to put my neck out for you when I don’t even know who you are. This could be anything from evacuating spies to human trafficking, and I won’t play your little games anymore. If you want a ride out of Syria, you will sit down and shut up for the duration of the trip.”

  The captain turned and started to walk in the opposite direction. “Kyle,” I called out after him.

  He spun around. “Who?”

  “My real name. Kyle Hoyek. I’m telling you this to show that I trust you. Now I expect you to do the same with me.” Cuvier would kill me if he found out I was giving out information as private as my real name, but Captain Grimm was too smart for anything less than the truth. “There’s a lot that I can’t tell you and a lot more that I won’t, but trust me on this one thing: I am the only one who can help these people. It’s not overstating it when I say I am doing the Lord’s work.”

  He smirked. “You should have gone with the Men in Black story and told me those refugees are actually Martians. It’d be easier to believe.”

  “I don’t care if you believe me, Roger.” His eyes went wide at the mention of his first name, a name he likely hadn’t heard in a long time. I pointed a finger in his chest. “Let me tell you what I do care about. I care about getting the people under my care to safety. I care about making sure that evil men like the colonel don’t get away with torture and murder. I care—”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to get my voice back under control. “I care about that woman and her son. And I will do anything to keep them safe. I’ve already lost one good man who trusted me with his life. I would rather die than lose anyone else.”

  The captain stood immobile. He didn’t even blink. After a moment, he sighed. “I can give you half an hour, tops. After that, we will head out to sea with or without you.”

  “Thank you, Captain. That’s all I can ask.”

  “Jirair . . . Kyle,” he corrected himself, “I know you want to save the girl, but the colonel has a pretty drastic head start. You don’t even know where to start looking.”

  I shook my head. “But I know somebody who does.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  THE cabin that served as an improvised prison cell was a mess. Belts, boots, and other gear taken from the captured soldiers were strewn across the floor without any semblance of organization. The walls were bare and illuminated by a single incandescent bulb. The only furniture left inside was a dark yellow cot and a single pillow. There, reclined with his head propped up against the bulkhead, was my target.

  “You have no idea what you have done,” the man I knew as Jamil spat at the two armed crewmen Captain Grimm assigned to guard him. “Those weren’t petty thugs you assaulted. They were members of the Syrian Army on a special mission authorized by the President himself. Do you think you can just get away with that? We were going to let you leave the country after we impounded your ship, but now I will watch every one of you hang. I will—”

  “Save your breath,” I told him as I entered the cabin. “I don’t think that any of these guys speak Arabic.”

  Jamil, or whatever his real name was, bolted upright on the cot. His hands were bound in front of him with rough rope and the guards made sure he didn’t grab anything that could be used as a weapon. When he saw my face, his composure changed in an instant. His angry tirade shifted to a look of surprise and fear. “Kyle,” he gasped. “I swear, this isn’t what it looks like.”

  I grabbed his collar and yanked him to his feet. “You have exactly one chance to walk out of this room with all your pieces still attached. Where is Azima?”

  “I don’t—”

  I didn’t give him a chance to finish his lie. I slammed him into the bulkhead and pinned him there with my left arm across his throat. The combat knife I held in my right hand was pressed against his face. It was fitting symmetry for the knife he held to Azima’s throat.

  “Don’t lie to
me!” I screamed. “Where is Azima? Has Abbas already—” I couldn’t bring myself to finish that sentence. “Where did Abbas take her?”

  “I, I . . .” he stammered. “By Allah, I tried to help you.”

  “Yeah,” I sneered. “You were tremendously helpful. You gave away our position to the army, you almost got Hafiz killed in the drive-by shooting your buddies organized, and you tried to set up Nadir to take the fall for it. But, worst of all,” I hissed, “is the fact that you turned Azima over to Abbas knowing full well what he would do to her.”

  His mouth opened, but his protests turned to whimpers as I gently added pressure to the knife. It didn’t quite break the skin, but it had to hurt. “Don’t try to deny it. I saw it in your eyes when we were out there on the dock. You know what Abbas is, and you know what he did to Azima when they were together. You knew that he would never allow her to get a second chance at saving her son.”

  “I also knew,” Jamil choked out, “that you were the only chance Azima had to survive. That’s why I spoke out to spare your life.”

  I leaned in so that we were only inches apart. The motion carried the knife forward, and a thin trickle of blood began forming around the edge. “You didn’t spare my life. You postponed my death.”

  Jamil rolled his eyes. “Come on, Kyle. I’ve seen you in action. Don’t you think I know how dangerous you are?”

  “You’ve only begun to see how dangerous I am,” I growled. “Where is Abbas hiding?”

  “I don’t know where Abbas went,” Jamil said. “I swear to you. I have been with you the whole time, first with your group and then on board this piece of scrap metal.”

  “Abbas would have told you where to find him.”

  Jamil tried to shrug. “Why? He was going to come back here when he was finished with Azima. That was personal business, something only his closest bodyguards would know anything about. I was just supposed to babysit you.”