by Dana Arama
“He is probably planning a party in Vegas or something wild like that. Stop worrying.” I smiled, but Aldo, who knew me well, knew that it wasn’t genuine.
“So why are you so worried?”
I didn’t answer him. I sat there on the rickety bed in my underwear for another moment, thinking about everything I’d amassed in my life before I met him, and about the tranquility I’d lost since then. “I need a line,” I mumbled, and Alex once again looked in from the stove, ready to fulfill my wish. I stopped him with a hand. “I need to get back to him first.” I managed to finish my coffee before Yassin answered. During that time, I held out hope that it was all just a whim, that he was pulling my leg and that, actually, nothing would happen tonight. But eventually Yassin answered, sounding as energetic and pragmatic as he had before. Unwillingly, I gave him the address of the apartment where we were hiding. By the time the driver arrived to pick me up, we had time to snort a line, which moved me from feeling insecure to feeling as if I was on top of the world.
Yassin had said to look out for the driver in just under half an hour, so every couple of minutes I peeked out the window, making sure there weren’t any patrol cars. When finally I saw the car waiting, I walked out to meet him. The driver was silent. He wore a jalabiya under a dirty army coat. The way he dressed was like a giant sign saying, ‘I am a Muslim fanatic on my way to perpetrate a terror attack’. I was apprehensive entering the car, but all the driver said was: “I was told to pick you up and continue on, not to hang around. Are you coming?”
So, I went. I hated myself for giving into Yassin. That was how it had always been. He had always drawn me in, into his plans, as if I hadn’t a life and plans of my own. He trampled over anything that was in his way, without a backward glance. His plans were always in place, and always bombastic or evil. Like the time he’d decided to give his father’s favorite horse food laced with caffeine the day before a hunt. He’d found it amusing when his father came back with a broken leg and ribs. What would he find amusing this time? And why did he need to call me in the middle of the night when we had made plans to meet within two days?
The trip took no more than half an hour and soon we reached a small airport I’d never heard of. When I saw the helicopter, I took two steps back. “No, no. There is no chance in hell that I am flying in this weather!” I protested, with the leftover self-confidence of the drug that was still in me. A swarthy man looked out from within the helicopter and shouted over the noise, “We are flying with you or without you. Now is the time for us to take off, because light winds are in the forecast.”
“I think it will be in your best interest to get in the helicopter.” The terrorist driver hinted to me, with an unfriendly smile and then added, “If you get in the helicopter it means you are with us and if you don’t -- you are most probably against Yassin.” This decided for me what I was going to do, going against Yassin was not such a good idea.
“Come on,” shouted the man inside the helicopter. “Can’t you feel that the winds have lessened? The respite is not going to last for long.”
“He’s right,” I smiled at the driver, and made my way towards the helicopter, as if I hadn’t wanted to fly with them only because of the weather. There were three more men inside the helicopter, besides the pilot. I was the only one who seemed worried about what was about to happen. Two of the men sat, silent and indifferent, like professional soldiers, chewing gum at a similar tempo. It was almost comical watching them. So alike and uniformly. I sat down and buckled up and someone put a bag over my face, and which suddenly made the whole situation scarier again.
The flight was horrendous. The winds rocked the helicopter as if it were no more than a feather and I, under the cover of that damned bag, felt as though I were on a rollercoaster from hell. I cursed them in every language I knew, but the noise was too loud for them to hear. After a while, which seemed like an eternity, we landed. I was left sitting in my place and waiting for my internal organs to resettle into their natural positions or for one of the men accompanying me to take the blindfold off my head, but neither of those things happened.
“Well? Can I take the blindfold off my head?” I hoped that, from my tone, they couldn’t hear the nausea in my voice. I hoped they understood I was cross for being bagged. Not just cross, angry. I should have been treated with the respect due to me. After all, Yassin and I had known each other since childhood. He trusted me to find him the weapons and the information. Trusted me and still demanded I arrive blindfolded. The fear that this evening would end badly overwhelmed me and suddenly I missed Alex and Aldo terribly. If they were here, the fear would be nonexistent.
Instead of taking off the blindfold, someone gripped my elbow and lifted me from my seat. Someone else said softly, “Mind your head…” and put his hand on my head. I bent down.
The same person with the soft voice helped me off the helicopter, his hand still on my head, and led me on a flat surface. I heard the helicopter restart its motor. I hoped, foolishly, that the wind from the blades would blow off this degrading blindfold. It didn’t blow off the blindfold but did spray something moist on my hands which smelled of a fish-market.
A heavy door opened on squeaky hinges, loud enough to be heard above the noise of the rising helicopter. As it flew off, the person with the soft voice led me slowly inside. He put my hand on something which felt like a metal pipe of some sort, cold and round. He led me carefully down a flight of metal stairs. I felt my way down, holding on to the rail with such force borne of apprehension. Down below, I could hear the sound of the waves beating against the body of the ship, for surely we must be on a ship. Every wave was a farewell from home, which faded further and further away.
“Can I take the blindfold off?” I asked again. I didn’t know how many people surrounded me, but no one answered. Not even the person with the soft voice, yet I knew I wasn’t alone.
“What’s wrong with you?” Yassin’s voice bellowed, “He’s one of us. Take off the bandanna!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was sure he’d given the order to cover my eyes and this was an act to force me to feel grateful. Only when I stood up on the steel floor did someone from behind me untie the knot and lift the blindfold. A table stood next to the wall, under the round, port window. On the table lay a round tray which held steaming cups, and above that a light shone. I looked around. Another three spotlights lit up the basement and it looked like a gloomy jail cell, except for that particular spot around the table. Yassin was waiting there, dressed in a fitted uniform, a cup of tea in his hand. Besides him were three men, all wearing the same uniform.
“What are you doing in the middle of the ocean when there is an operation to run on land?”
Yassin smiled at those around him and pointed at me. “You see? Do you understand why this man is dangerous? Because he understands a thing or two!” He came up to me and hugged me as if he hadn’t seen me in years. “Besides the fact that it is harder to track me here, a lot of the equipment is here. We need to transfer it between the different cities without being stopped.”
“So why not use trucks?”
“I considered it. A fleet of trucks picking up the goods in one place and dispersing them in different locations. Do you have any idea how easy it is to follow the trail? How many people need to be involved? I rejected the idea because I don’t trust people.”
In one of the darker corners, I made out the boy, hunched over. His right foot was straight in front of him and his ankle was in an unnatural position. It had been a good idea to keep his shoe on the broken foot. He must be in a lot of pain. I could see he’d been crying, but that wasn’t the worst part. Even from where I was standing, I could see his face was distorted from being smashed about. He reminded me of the little whore, after Yassin had finished with her. Had he raped the boy too? According to the Besa law, he was under my care and I had neglected him badly by not looking out for him. W
as I in for a face treatment like the boy?
The boy looked at me, frightened. He seemed to brighten up a bit when he recognized me. I almost smiled at him but caught myself in time. If Yassin had noticed it, he wouldn’t have asked why I was happy. I wouldn’t have been able to show happiness anymore, ever. On the one hand, I was cross with the boy because I had been notified that as soon as I had let him touch his laptop, the little rascal managed to send a location point to the police. Only by sheer luck had we managed to leave the apartment before the raid started. The girls were arrested and the apartment, which was my safe house as far as I was concerned, was now under their surveillance and therefore not useable anymore. On the other hand, I knew that I had to let the kid carry out the same trick again, because someone needed know we were on this ship and quickly, before it was too late, and we disappeared into the depths of the ocean. I had no doubt, that as far as Yassin was concerned, the boy and I were both a loose thread at the end of the carpet that he knitted so well, and the frayed edge was a problem needed to be taken care of.
“Where is his computer?” I asked Yassin and pointed at the boy. I was scared that if I didn’t show self-confidence now and prove to him that we were both needed, we wouldn’t survive to see the sunrise.
“Why do you need his computer?” Yassin was a hard person to fool. Hard and suspicious and impossible to work with, but I answered with patience, “I don’t need the computer, you do.”
“And why do you think I need it?”
“Because the boy has special programs in his laptop which enables him to infiltrate other computers.” I smiled patiently. “Because you said something about his father’s programs…”
Yassin looked at the kid and said, “Mmm… I don’t like that idea.”
“What idea?” I was hoping the boy would work his magic again and that they would find us in time, before my little megalomaniac friend started a world war and drew me into it with him. My connection with Yassin already threatened to turn my world upside down and ruin everything I was trying to build for myself here in the United States. It was trampling on all my plans. I was starting to dislike this whole idea more and more.
“Can you hack into your father’s computer from an ordinary computer as well?” Yassin turned to the boy, sounding like a disgruntled teacher.
The boy sent me a hesitant glance, as if he was waiting for me to indicate to him what the correct answer was. I answered him with an almost imperceptible shake of my head and was sorry already. I knew that if he answered a definite “no”, then Yassin might suspect us. Not because he’d seen me shake my head, but because that was his character. He didn’t like premeditated answers.
The boy answered, “I can try but I will need to upload a few programs and it may take some time.” I almost sighed with relief.
“Okay… So, do it. One of my men will follow each of your steps.”
“Wait a second. He owes me a list that he uploaded on his laptop and I still haven’t received it. I want the list now.” This was the time to stand up to him, because it was the only way he understood. “Who knows what the boy will manage to upload and what not, especially while someone is breathing down his neck on his every move.”
“Can you give him the list from another computer?”
“No.” Now I knew that he was collaborating with me. I already had the list and we both knew it. He added, “I can try and find the list again, but it may take hours.”
“What is so special about this list?” Yassin glared at me, even though he’d asked the kid.
“It is a list of the Civil Guard in Arizona.”
“And why do you need this list?” This time he looked at me when he asked the question.
“Knowledge is power.” I smiled, “I don’t need to tell you that, right? The Civil Guard is working against the drug smugglers and I have an obvious interest in helping the cartels.”
“Okay,” Yassin reluctantly agreed. “Give him his damn laptop for five minutes. No more!” He ordered the old gorilla behind him. “After five minutes you close his computer, even if his hands are still on the keyboard. Understood?”
The gorilla understood. I hoped the boy understood too, and that five minutes would be enough time for him. I didn’t know what he could manage in such a short amount of time, but that was all that we had. No more. He needed to figure out a way to signal our location, just as he had done when we were in the apartment. The gorilla came back shortly and in his hands was the kid’s black bag.
“I assume that there is an internet connection,” said the boy. His young voice was newly energized. Maybe it was the hope that he had found an ally, or the knowledge that he has a bit of control; maybe being with his laptop again was like holding a weapon.
“There is no Wi-Fi, but there is a cable in that corner over there,” The gorilla pointed to the empty wall opposite him. The boy dragged himself up from where he was sitting and limped to the other side of the room. He leaned against the wall for a moment and then slid down it until he sat heavily on the floor, next to the Internet outlet, with his back to the wall. Carefully, he took his computer out of the bag. He held it as if it were a hard-won trophy, a happy expression on his face. The gorilla stood behind him, watching his every move. The boy connected the laptop to the electrical outlet and then took out another cable and plugged it into the Internet connection. The gorilla stood above him, surveilling the screen. The boy’s young fingers started gliding on the keyboard like a piano player. A few minutes passed and the gorilla looked over at Yassin. There was a helpless look on his face. The boy’s fingers moved so rapidly he couldn’t follow them. Another minute passed and the boy looked at me. “I need your email address,” he said quietly.
“No!” Yassin interrupted.
“What, ‘no’?” I asked crossly. He couldn’t change his mind every five minutes. Or he could, but I didn’t like it.
“I will give him an email address he can send the list to.” He was a control freak. But then he explained, “Your email is probably being surveilled.”
I laughed with relief. “Don’t worry, my friend… I have email addresses that they don’t know belong to me. Do you really think I could manage my business with just one address?”
He glared at me coldly, and the smile on my face froze. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” I promised. I wished that they could really track my emails. I wondered what would happen if I gave the boy the email that the police were monitoring.
“Okay, continue,” Yassin ordered. The room started breathing again, our hearts began beating, the sea once again began to surge. I hated him for his ability to affect his surroundings so profoundly, maybe because I was part of them.
Letter after letter, I dictated my secret address to the boy. He said, “Sent.” I removed my cell phone from my pocket, and we all looked at it, expecting to hear the sound of an incoming message but nothing happened. Yassin started walking towards the boy and he cowered against the wall.
“There may be no internet reception here,” the boy said and added quickly, “Because of the metal walls. I suggest you go upstairs and try again. Make sure also that you can open it.”
What had he done? Sent a file with a location point and a S.O.S message? A file to be opened when? Would it need Wi-Fi to be received? Would a passing ship be able to receive it? I didn’t quite understand what was happening, I just knew that I had to get up to the top level of the ship to open the file. I nodded my head and looked at Yassin. I didn’t leave until I’d received an ‘okay’ from him. He nodded in acceptance. “Don’t touch the boy in the meantime,” I warned him and pointed at the terrified kid.
“Go up and finish with this business already!” Yassin said impatiently. “And don’t dare make any phone calls!” he yelled after me. I wondered if he was impatient because other people’s needs don’t concern him or because he didn’t foresee a future for me and there
fore the file was worthless. I went upstairs. In the middle deck on the left-hand side, was a most luxurious dining hall. Under the shiny chandelier, near a fully stocked liquor bar, next to the mahogany table big enough for twelve people, stood four men loading weapons into black bags. There were hand grenades, guns and short assault rifles. To the side, next to the wall, on the Persian carpet, under the famous painting of sunflowers, were three full bags. Next to them was a pile of boxes, stacked one upon the other.
“Ready?” I asked confidently, as if I had a clue what the rest of the plan was, as if I knew where they were going or what they were about to do.
“We are just finishing. We’ll be done in a couple of minutes and ready to leave as soon as you say,” answered the shorter guy. He had an accent which reminded me of home, a mixture of English and Syrian Arabic.
That wasn’t good. Even if I sent the signal now, by the time it was deciphered and they arrived, we won’t be in the same place. I stood by the metal door, took a deep breath and walked outside, into the cold darkness. Behind me I could hear the guy say: “Careful not to slip. The deck is wet. Hold onto the railing or something stable!”
He was right. With my first steps I fought with the winds and the wetness of the deck I stood upon. The sound of the blowing wind was like a warning from a thousand witches. My shivers derived from fear and not the cold. I looked around, hoping to see a sparkle of light, indicating we were not entirely alone. But the darkness was absolute. I didn’t know exactly how the boy’s booby trap worked but hoped for the best, which was them finding my location via my cell phone. I opened the file. I left the cell phone and the file open for as long as possible. I had no idea how it worked or if it would work, but something made me think that this was the best option, leaving it on. I trusted the little bastard down there to do his job properly. Damn it, I thought, if I hadn’t been in the habit of using multiple disposable phones, they would have been onto us in no time and I would have been saved.
