by Oliver Tidy
‘It is, now,’ said Dominique. ‘I won’t take the risk of getting stuck here. I want to go home with my daughter. You said you’d get us home. You promised us.’
‘She’s right,’ said Niki. ‘If they found us here, they’ll find whoever stays here. We’ve been through this already. We must hurry.’
He huffed and put his foot down.
When they were a few streets away he slowed their speed. He found a main road and joined the flow of traffic with no idea of where he was going. As he put time and distance between them and the murdered men, the enormity of what they’d done, were doing, constricted his thinking. It was like some horrible, horrible dream. They’d been so close. And now they had to run and hide God-knew-where and think of a way out of it. If indeed there was a way out.
He was suddenly sorry that they’d left their Arab costumes behind on the boat. He felt exposed, almost nakedly vulnerable in just a top, trousers and trainers. Nothing to hide behind. Instantly recognisable.
‘Where am I supposed to be going?’ he said, after they’d put a couple of kilometres behind them.
‘Stay on this road,’ she said. ‘It will take us to hotels.’
‘Hotels? What good is a hotel to us? Won’t they want identification? Won’t the news of your executions soon be all over the media? Won’t our descriptions be circulated all over town?’
She settled a cold, disappointed gaze on him. ‘Becoming hysterical is not going to help us.’
‘Hysterical? You’ve just murdered two men. They might have been husbands, fathers even. They were certainly someone’s sons. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? And look where you’ve gone and done it. Du-fucking-bai. So don’t talk to me about being fucking hysterical.’
‘Feel better now? They weren’t local police. They were VEVAK.’
‘Does that matter?’
‘Of course it matters.’
‘How the bloody hell did they know where to find us?’
‘Obviously, someone sold that information.’
‘Is that all you lot do: sell people out for profit?’
She rounded on him then, ‘What are you doing here? You’re so naive, so obtuse, such an amateur. This is no arena for you. This is a war. We are fighting a war. War means casualties. No one forced them to do their job. They knew the risks. Believe this: they wouldn’t have thought twice about ending your life. They didn’t when they ended her husband’s life, did they? And they didn’t when they blew the face off my friend, to send a message.’
‘Is that what that was about? Revenge? Because that’s stupid and dangerous and it’s selfish, because it’s not just about you. We’ve got an innocent woman and a sick child with us, in case you’d forgotten.’
‘Yes, Englishman. And if I hadn’t acted back there how much longer do you think they’d have stayed together? How much chance do you think they’d have had of getting home?’
Such was his anger with her that Acer could only grip the wheel, breathe deeply and drive.
‘Take the next left,’ she said. ‘I have a friend who will help us.’
As if to signal the end of their conversation she took out her phone and made a call. She chattered seriously for a minute and then ended it.
He followed her precise instructions until they came to a modern hotel, which was so tall the floors couldn’t be counted from the car parked next to it. They pulled up beside a manned booth set back under the building’s overhang. She leaned across Acer and spoke to the man inside. He raised the security arm and directed them down a ramp that led to an underground car park.
They parked in a dark corner and Acer killed the engine. Niki told them to wait for her and, shouldering her backpack, she left them. He felt his muscles relax as some of the tension flowed out of him. He turned to look at his passengers. Dominique looked awful – terrified – on the verge of a breakdown, perhaps. Zoe just stared back at him and again Acer had to wonder just how deeply she had been traumatised by the events of her recent past if she could continue to show no emotion or reaction after what had just happened, what she’d heard, what she’d witnessed.
‘How’re you doing?’ he said.
Dominique let a little mad laugh escape her. ‘I wish I knew, Acer. I wish I knew.’ She stroked her daughter’s hair.
‘It’s not too late for you and Zoe to get out of this. We can make a call to the British Embassy. Get them to come and collect you. From here you would not naturally be associated with what happened today. You could swear you know nothing about it if someone made a connection, although why would they? You know they’d look after you. Get you home. Back to the protection of the UK.’
‘They might. Then again they might not. And don’t forget that the taxi driver knew our destination. No. I thank you for giving us that option. But I believe you’ll get us back.’
He suddenly felt wholly unworthy of the faith and trust she was putting in him. The way she looked at him was bordering on if not idolatry then something not far removed. She’d set him on a white horse or a pedestal and he felt he had no balance for either. He didn’t need it on top of everything else. He wanted her to take her child and leave them, take her chances with the authorities and her stories. He wanted them off his hands, off his conscience, so he could focus on his own neck and how he was going to save it from being stretched in some shitty Arab jail.
He had no control over the situation now. He realised he’d had no control over any of it since they snatched him from the airport. He been dragged along with their ideas and actions and he only had himself to blame. Feeling stupid didn’t come close. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea where to go. He had no money and no weapon. And he had nothing other than the dirty, stinking clothes and trainers he stood up in.
And then he remembered the loot in the foot well. He reached down and picked up a handgun. He rifled the wallets for cash. There wasn’t much. Then he remembered that Niki had a backpack seemingly full of bundles of large denomination American bills, and he remembered where he was and the knowledge that money talked, money opened doors. Perhaps enough of it could open a border crossing.
***
30
Dominique put a hand on his shoulder. It made him start. She was sharing something unspoken with him, demonstrating her support and encouragement. He should have felt something for it. He did: wretched, contemptible, undeserving.
Niki returned with a smartly dressed man trailing in her wake and looking suitably anxious. Acer wondered how much he knew.
She said. ‘We’re staying here.’
Neither Acer nor Dominique had any argument to offer. As Dominique and Zoe got out of the back, Acer stuffed one of the pistols in his waistband and the cash in his pocket. He pushed the rest of the booty under the front seat and locked up the car.
Acer carried Zoe. They took a service lift up to the fifth floor of twenty-five. In the lift they were like strangers.
The man led them across the hall, unlocked a door and stood back for them to enter. Niki took the car keys from Acer and gave them to the man with an instruction. He nodded his unhappy features and disappeared to run his errand.
‘What’s he doing with the car?’ said Acer.
‘Getting rid of it. Before it becomes too dangerous to move.’
‘What will we do for transport?’
‘I’ll arrange something,’ said Niki, with another typically evasive response. ‘I’ve told him to send up some water, too. We should all take the opportunity to use the facilities here. I don’t know when we’ll get another chance.’
‘If you have an idea of what we can do now to get out of this mess, I think it would be good of you to share it,’ said Dominique.
Niki treated her to an extended surprised look before saying, ‘I need to check a few things first. When I’m sure, we’ll talk. I’m taking a shower.’
When the bathroom door was shut, Acer said, ‘Probably thinks she can wash away her sins.’
‘You think so? I don’t th
ink she feels she’s sinned. You heard her; she thinks she’s fighting a war.’
They made use of the chairs. The water came. It was chilled and greedily consumed.
***
31
When Niki emerged from the bathroom, she said, ‘I think the best thing we can do is try to leave the UAE by road. I can get us a vehicle and I’ve got enough money.’
‘Enough money for what? Go where exactly?’ said Acer. ‘I don’t even know what countries border the UAE. Where might be friendly?’
‘I don’t think where might be friendly should be top of our list for border crossings. I think where we might have the best chance of buying our way out would be better.’
They thought about this. He said, ‘The only ways out of Dubai are going to be by boat, by plane, by train – I’m guessing there – or by road.’
‘Plane will be out for the same reasons we couldn’t fly from Iran,’ said Niki. ‘I don’t know about train but again I imagine we’d need identification to travel on anything that was crossing a border. Boat is possible but it could mean waiting around for days trying to organise something and even then I’m not sure where we could go to other than back to Iran. Road is the best way.’
‘Let’s say I agree with you. Road to where and what happens then? You’re not suggesting we try to drive back to the UK, I hope.’
‘Why not?’ said Niki.
‘Because it would take forever, because we have no idea of how we’d do it, because we have a sick child, because all we need is a British Embassy.’
‘There’s another one in Abu Dhabi,’ said Dominique.
‘No,’ said Niki. ‘We must leave the UAE now without seeking help from the authorities.’
‘Why?’ he said.
‘Because of what we’ve done here.’
‘What you’ve done.’
She gave him her coldest look. ‘What I’ve done is prolonged our liberty and given us a chance to get out of here. Besides, if they are aware we’re in the UAE they’ll be bound to keep watching all the British embassies now.’
That made some sense.
He said, ‘Before we can even consider leaving by road, we need a good map and we need to find a route and we need to be bloody sure that when we get to a border crossing we can bloody well buy our way over.’
***
32
Niki’s hotel connection sent up a good selection of clothes – men’s, women’s and children’s – from the hotel’s left property store. He also sent a detailed map of the region and food. Once again Acer was forced to consider the extent of her cause’s network of sympathisers. Niki made it clear that many thousands of Iranian nationals chose to reside in the UAE and neighbouring countries like it, and that a good proportion of those did so because of their issues with the incumbent Iranian regime.
Niki’s state of cleanliness encouraged them all to make use of the suite’s facilities. By the time the food arrived they were all hungry, clean and better dressed. That helped them to feel better about themselves, but this small plus was nothing when compared to the simmering sense of despair and angst at the position they now found themselves in.
Understandably, none of them wanted to be apprehended in the UAE, and none of them wanted to take their chances with the authorities, British or otherwise. This left only the subject of flight on the agenda.
They ate as they studied the map.
‘How much money have you got?’ said Acer.
‘More than enough.’
‘For what?’
‘For whatever we need.’
He shrugged at her evasiveness. ‘Are we sure we want to try to drive our way out of this?’
‘What choice do we have?’ said Niki.
‘Look,’ he said. He indicated where they were on the map. ‘Look at where we can go. We have two options for neighbouring countries overland: Saudi Arabia and Oman. And both are big drives. And what do we do when we get to a border? Hope to Christ we can buy our way out of one country and into another. What if we can’t? We’re screwed. Properly. Have you got contacts at a border crossing? And what if we could negotiate our way through? Then what? Hundreds more kilometres before we’d get anywhere, and then we’d be back in the same position, having to buy our way in or out. We’d be taking so many gambles – with our transport, with people, with the law.’ He huffed loudly. ‘And there’s nothing in either of these countries for any of us, or the countries beyond them. Say we got lucky, had no problems, everything went smoothly, where would we be? There’s too much risk for my liking. And let’s not forget Zoe. She’s suffering. Huge drives in hostile terrain in these temperatures would be very hard on her.’
‘I repeat,’ said Niki, ‘what choice do we have?’
‘We can’t fly because we have no documentation and because of security. Train travel is probably going to be out for the same reasons and because of what I’ve said about the only two countries we can go to.’ He met each of their stares in turn before saying, ‘What about going back on the water?’
‘Back to Iran?’ Niki was incredulous.
‘No, not back to Iran. What about heading away from trouble and going around the Gulf of Oman into the Arabian Sea?’
‘To where?’
‘The Persian Gulf is a water highway teeming with traffic going all over the world and it’s on our doorstep. Look how easy it was to find transport to here. We might be able to find something going somewhere that could suit us.’
‘But that would put days on our journey, weeks maybe.’
‘It depends where we could go. And don’t forget that travelling over land is going to take a long time, even if it went well.’
Dominique had listened to them in attentive silence and now she spoke. ‘I agree with Acer. Let’s find a ship that will take us out of here. If we’re at sea no one will be able to find us. And the road would be very tough on Zoe. I don’t care about taking more time to get home. I really don’t. I just want the best chance of actually getting there for my daughter and me.’
Niki drummed her fingers on the table. ‘It might work, I suppose. Being on a boat would get us away from the people who are looking for us. It would depend on where we could go to.’
‘You’ve got contacts in this city; would any of them be able to help?’
She smiled a rare smile at him. There was no warmth in it, like a winter sun reflecting off an iceberg. She said, ‘I’m sure I could find someone.’
It was agreed. They would wait in the hotel and explore that option, see what Niki could come up with and then decide. And if they could find nothing suitable they would look again at going overland. For Acer it was encouraging just to be listened to.
Zoe was made comfortable in front of a cartoon channel and while Niki made some phone calls, he took the girl’s mother to one side. ‘Dominique, I want you to think again about my suggestion that you and Zoe go to an embassy. I appreciate your faith in me to get you both home, but... it’s going to be so dangerous, so risky. You know I’m not a professional at this sort of thing. I feel out of my depth. If something went wrong, badly wrong...’
‘I have thought about it again and my answer is the same. I would rather we take our chances with you than with the system. Unless you don’t want the burden of us?’ It wasn’t said with any sense of pique and he did not interpret it with any.
He said, ‘I’m only thinking of you two.’
She reached out and touched his arm. ‘Thank you. That’s why we’re staying with you. That and Zoe likes you.’
‘Really? How do you know?’
‘I know. She’s had such an unimaginably horrendous time. And she’s forming a bond with you, whether you like it or not. As her mother, to know what my child has gone through, how she used to be, so full of life and happiness, and to see what she is now – enclosed in a hard shell of fear and mistrust... I know that you can imagine my pain for that, but can you understand how important it is for her to find someone she can trust?’
His gaze naturally strayed across to the pathetic form balled up on the sofa, knees up under her chin and stare fixed firmly on the television. He thought of his own daughter who might be alive and suffering, hoping for someone to be nice to her, someone she could trust.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Dominique, as if reading his thoughts.
Niki finished on the phone. ‘I have to go out.’
‘Have you got something for us?’
‘It’s possible.’ She finished wrapping the headscarf around her and fixed her big sunglasses in place. She was instantly anonymous. ‘Don’t leave the room. I will tell my friend to check on you.’
‘How long will you be?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What happens if you don’t come back?’
‘I’ll come back.’ She shouldered her backpack and clipped the link across her chest.
‘Should you take that?’ said Acer.
She answered him with a long look from behind the black lenses and then let herself out.
When she’d shut the door, he said, ‘Maybe she doesn’t trust us.’
‘It’s her money.’
‘I know, but that’s the paddle that’ll get us out of shit creek.’
***
33
Hassan answered his phone. ‘Where are you?’
‘They are at the hotel, as arranged. I am out.’
‘No problems?’
‘No. It went well. Our friends played their parts. The woman seems to have formed a sentimental attachment to him. He allowed her to talk him into staying together. I didn’t need to convince them that would be best. They are not thinking with their heads.’
‘Good.’
‘He doesn’t want to leave by car.’
‘Then you must convince him.’
‘He has a better idea. Better for us, I think.’
‘What is it?
‘He wants to leave Dubai by ship.’