by B K Thomas
***
Damascus, Syria
“Brothers and sisters of humanity.” Sahila starts. “I am so grateful for your generosity. I am humbled by your support and I pledge I will do everything I can to bring light to our suffering and make the world acknowledge what is happening here in Syria. Together, we can take a stand against the manipulation of the governments responsible for these wars. We can put an end to the atrocities against innocent people. With your help, I will make our voices be heard. Tell everyone you know about us. We will take this message to whoever will listen and those who refuse, I will be too loud for them to ignore. Together, we will put an end to this so-called “civil war”. We start now. We unite. We show up. We protest. The governments may not be afraid of you, they may not be afraid of me. But they will be afraid of us. Together we can bring pressure upon them and restore order. Together we can bring justice to our land. We deserve it. We demand it. From the murderers of ISIS to the rapists of the Syrian army. We will not rest until we have justice.” Sahila stares at the camera until Yaqeena stops the recording and gives her a thumbs up. She inhales and lets out a deep breath then smiles in relief. “Well, let’s figure out how to make this so big they can’t ignore us.” She tells Yaqeena with a look that urges her sister to respond.
“Yes sister, we will determine how to make a big noise. There are many people who want to help us. We should look at those offering to help, maybe they can help us make a big noise and help us stay invisible at the same time. There are followers that say they are good with computers and surfing the internet anonymously who can help us hide from the government and any others that would like to find us.” Yaqeena informs her cautiously. She knows that her sister has to pace her way out of her cloud of grief, and it will come in moments and waves, but she has to keep moving her forward.
Her sister is right. It will all be for nothing if the government catches them before they even have a voice. They have to enlist all the help they can. There are people out in the world that want to help them. Somehow her sister has caught their attention. She knows her sister’s message, raw and painful, has touched many people. The honest expression of pain and indignation echoes what many feel not only here, but across the world. Her sister has tapped into a frustration many people feel. Helplessness, hopelessness, and the desperate desire to change it. Her approach has been a simple overflow of emotion so far with very little planning and preparation. They are quickly coming to the point where if they keep moving forward without some thought, they will be reckless. They will endanger their families and others if they don’t plan. She has to keep her sister moving forward but she also has to help her begin to use the help that is freely available and beyond their expertise. Neither of them is sophisticated in such matters. They are the daughters of a merchant. They are not involved in government matters. They did not know anything about hiding from the government except what they saw in movies. They will be caught in no time at all if they don’t get help. She realizes this and is frantically researching how to stay out of sight. The offers of help from strangers around the world are tempting. She did not pay any attention to them at first, but now with the size of their protest growing so fast, things are beyond their capabilities.
Yaqeena continues, “Sister, I have been looking at the suggestions from supporters. Offers beyond just money. Advice that can help us escape detection here by our government and governments beyond ours. There are also other people that can help us manage our online communication and even help us escape when we are ready.” Her eyes grow big with the excitement of sharing the information.
“Well, I can see you have been busy with all of this new information.” Sahila comments with an approving smile then continues, “Thank you for taking the initiative. Even though I was overwhelmed and afraid to move forward. So, tell me, what do you think we should do now?” She asks knowing Yaqeena has plenty of opinions to share.
“You are welcome, of course, sister. I am so excited about the flood of help. I have barely been able to keep it to myself! You know, I had thought about reaching out to one of our friends here in the city that might be able to help us. There are some that we might be able to work with, but I am not sure if any know as much as the people online who have messaged us. They have offered to help with things that you hear about in the movies. Things like secure email, private networks, tunnels through the internet, things that I have never even heard about.” She giggles at herself and continues. “But they assure us that these things can keep us hidden from the government. They have offered to train us and offer ongoing support. They have sent me some instructions, but I wanted to talk it all over with you before I did anything else.” She pauses to gather her thoughts. “You know Sahila, I will do whatever you want. We can die here in our land at the mercy of terrorists like ISIS or at the hands of our own government. I will do whatever you feel is best. But I will remind you that it’s not only our family that is at stake here but also the hopes of those people that have heard and agreed with us.” She let the words hang as she waits for a response.
Sahila looks at her younger sister with surprise. “How did you become so wise little one? Who is this woman you have become in such a short time?”
Her sister blushes but her look is serious. “I have been a woman for some time now. You just haven’t noticed.”
“Yes, I guess that is so. Well, big little sister. Let’s look at these things. I prefer to work with someone we know. What have you seen that is making you think these online people might be a good choice?” Sahila asks deferring to her sister.
“They are people hiding from their own governments. Some from Egypt, the United States and other places where governments are spying on their own people. Some of these people hack their own governments or others they want to fight and are able to hide from them. I don’t think we know anyone like these people who know so much about staying hidden in plain sight.” She shrugs. “Maybe we do but then, if we involve them, we endanger them here. At least if it’s someone somewhere else they are safer. If we decide to work with someone here, how do we find the right person? How many people will hear about what we are doing if we start asking around looking for someone who knows how to hide us?” Yaqeena asks with gravity.
“These are good questions. How much time do you think we have to consider them?” Sahila asks.
“With all we are doing and the amount of money that is coming in, I will say a week at most. If our videos are picked up by television or continue to gather momentum on the social media networks, then I think it may only be days.” Yaqeena suggests with trepidation.
“In that case, this must be our first priority.” Sahila shifts and leans forward. “Show me these people offering to help us. We must research all of these people we are thinking of working with and continue to pay attention to what we are doing once we have chosen someone.”
Yaqeena nods in agreement. Her heart jumps at the idea of moving forward. She knows these are the next steps they must take. She is glad that her sister is ready to take action. She is concerned the government might already be on to them but in her heart, she knows better. They are too busy fighting their war and just trying to maintain control over the country to worry about two sisters staging an insignificant protest just yet. Yaqeena and Sahila are no real threat to them at this point, but she believes they will not be for long. She has faith in her sister. She knows they will be able to make their voice heard by more people after seeing how many people have already responded to her message. The people that offer money, combined with those providing their time and expertise, convince her they will be able to make a worldwide impact. She just hopes the tools these people are offering are as good as they advertise.
“Okay, I will need to follow some instructions that they sent me to gather all the tools and programs they tell us to get,” Yaqeena informs her sister. “Maybe then, we can even contact these people and discuss how to do some things like load our videos securely and move money without
our government seeing it.”
“Okay, Sis. It sounds like I need to get out of your way so you can get things set up. In the meantime, I will look through the messages and find what else we need to go over together to make some decisions.” Sahila promises.
Yaqeena smiles and claps her hands together. “Let’s go. We have a lot to do!” She grabs Sahila and hugs her.
Sahila hugs her back then cautions, “If we just stay out of the Lion’s claws, I will be happy.”
Chapter 15
Deir ez-Zur, Syria
The city is intact, but the signs of war are easy to see. Traveling through the outskirts of the city is like driving through an apocalyptic ghost town. As they move closer to the city it is an eerie sight. The sea of sand they travel across in their truck is broken up by shadows cast by the increasingly common buildings. Some buildings have been broken by tanks and bombs. Others stand empty without glass in the windows casting solemn shadows. There are no occupants in sight. They drive in silence until they see the first checkpoint. Within minutes they are into the city.
“Brothers” Mashal addresses them as the General keeps scanning the surroundings. “We must be careful. We have many enemies here. The fight for the control of the city is still being waged. The progress we are making is merely paused here for the moment because of the help of the Russians. The Russians will learn soon enough this is not their fight. Like Afghanistan, they will begin to understand our lands are not theirs and they are not welcome. They will begin to see the futility of trying to stop us when we send their sons home in body bags. Their people will not allow their leaders to continue this fight as we make videos of their son’s deaths. We will make their women cry in terror of us and they will beg their leaders. They will demand their leaders bring them home.” Mashal relishes in the thought and continues. “We will be meeting some brothers soon who will help us achieve the next steps in our journey.”
The General’s heart beats faster. It is time for him to make contact with someone to help him out of this mess. The opportunity to send word to his people or some allies is slipping through his grasp as each mile draws them closer to Mashal’s destination.
They weave through the city. The amount of activity is surprising considering the devastation that is apparent throughout their drive. They pass makeshift markets and stalls erected out of the debris. The landscape is a mockery of man’s genius. The roads and carefully planned buildings are sometimes blown apart and at other times do not have a mark on them. The randomness of war is everywhere as the rubble of one building stands right next to one that is intact. The General feels sorry for the residents trapped in the crossfire of the governments, rebels, and terrorists. His thoughts are interrupted when they pull up and stop at an apartment building. The building is another example of the randomness of it all. The right corner’s outer walls have been ripped off by something. Maybe the explosion that destroyed most of the building next to it. The rooms once tucked away behind the walls are exposed with their contents strewn around the space that is left. The other side where the entrance is still intact is on the left. There is little evidence of the destruction that swirled all around them looking at this part of the building. The General looks up and sees some clothes hanging across a balcony on the second floor. It reminds him of when he was a child. His family lived on a farm outside of town. His father would take the family into the city, once in a while, when he had business there or sometimes to see a family member. The world opened up before him as a little boy. The vast expanse of the city skyline appeared on the horizon as they neared the city. It was like a vision from another world. He saw apartment buildings like the one he sees now and watched amazed as they passed across his view. The General was amazed by the creations of man as a child. Apartment buildings, towers, and airports all captured his imagination. Laundry fluttered in the breeze from the balconies of the apartments. They seemed to wave hello and beckon him to come to the city. He took mental snapshots of these things and reflected on them. He didn’t have such grand sights on the farm back home. The memory of his trips to the city haunted him as a child when he returned home. It pained him every time he thought of how hard his mother worked. She was a beautiful woman, but the years of farm labor and housekeeping left their mark. His earliest memories were of her face shining in the sun. The smell of fresh clean laundry filling the air as he watched her gleam in the sun. He dreamed of becoming a man that would escape to the city and be part of creating something grand taking her with him.
He watched his father leave early in the mornings and return late in the evenings with nothing to show for it but dirt and sweat. He resented they lived so far from anything modern. He resented his father for not being more productive. He looked around and saw his mother struggling to make the best of the situation and resented his father even more. He dreamt of the day when he would go to the city and make a life that was more than dirt and sweat. He wanted more than anything for life to be easier for his mother and bigger than the farm. For generations, his family was nomads like many that wandered the sands of the Middle East. Eventually, the call of a more predictable life lured them to the land. They became slaves to it and had been farmers ever since. Somewhere along the way a member of the family would challenge the status quo and change the direction of it. He was the next rebel in the family line and changed the direction of the family.
He chose to pursue the city and the modern life that called to him from his memories and leave farm life behind. He was drawn to the city and always wanted to be a part of its movement. He sensed the rhythm and felt its pull as he pondered the mysteries it held. As he rose in the ranks of Iraqi Army the president heard of him and found out about his journey from the farm to the city and eventually to the halls of power in the military. The similarities of their lives delighted the president who extended favoritism upon the General. This favor continued to follow him for the rest of his life, until now. The General held on to the belief that the favor he has enjoyed transcended the president and that it followed him no matter where he is or what he did. The General thinks about his good fortune so far. His luck has taken him from an impoverished farm to a position of authority in his country. His country has one of the greatest militaries in the world and he is part of its success. He has been on the front lines in the war with Iran surviving and taking part in battles that earned him a reputation of being a fearless warrior. He is then promoted successively throughout his career. So now, even though he has been kidnapped, his luck continues, no harm has come to him. His family is relatively safe in spite of the circumstances. He knows these men are ruthless, but he thinks Mashal is somehow trustworthy just the same. Like common criminals, he can trust them as long as he provides them with what they demand. They showed they would not harm his son once they were assured of his cooperation. He is playing the role he was given for the time being but will break with them as soon as he is able. Luck is still on his side, and he still has faith he will make it through this and find a way to preserve his family. His line will continue, as it has for a thousand years.
***
ASG, Jordan
“We hear from that Captain yet Sergeant?” Major Westbrook asks.
“Nothing yet sir, you want me to try again?” The Sergeant knows the answer but asks anyway.
“If he won’t call us, we’ll track him down. Call again, I know they’re up to something since they’re not calling us back.” Westbrook declares.
“Yes, sir.” Sergeant Jackson reaches for the phone while he looks for the number. “Ringing now sir.”
Mossad, Tel Aviv, Israel
“Sir, it’s the Americans.” Sergeant Eli calls out after picking up the phone.
“That’s fine. I’ll pick it up over here.” Captain Ben Haim says with a mischievous smile. “Captain Ben Haim.”
Major Westbrook punches the button on the phone to join the call. “Captain, I’m glad I can finally reach you,” Westbrook says withholding his annoyance. “You probably
heard that I called earlier to get the latest data that you have on the missing Iraqi General. I am certain you have some more current information than your last email by now.”
“Yes Major, Sergeant Eli told me that you had called but I have been so busy that I didn’t have a chance to return your call.” Ben Haim smiles at the explanation and continues. “I’m sure you understand. It can get quite messy here out in the desert.”
Major Westbrook rolls his eyes. If he doesn’t ever meet another Middle Eastern expert by birth, it will be fine with him. So many people he speaks with from the region assume they know more than him by birth just because he is an American. After all, he just arrived with the rest of them so what can he know? He knows that many of them do, in fact, know more than him, but they fail to grasp the hunger that drives him to study people and the world around him. He feasts on information about cultures and how people think and what drives them. He is driven to beat them at their own games. It is like chess for him. He is patient and maneuvers in anticipation at times or pushes his opponent to the outcome he has devised. Too often, for his taste, he has to educate newcomers to who he is and how good he is at his job. He is patient but it is a regular enough occurrence that it grows thin at times.
“Yes, I’m sure this can get real messy. So, why don’t you bring us in on the data you have so we can make sure we don’t miss any opportunities.” Westbrook concedes offering the way out for them both.
“Why Major, I gave you the latest data we had previously, but it was good timing that you called. I was about to call you to give you an update. We just learned they have most likely crossed the border into Syria.” The Captain smiles and awaits the response.
“I’m sure.” The Major pauses waiting for more information then continues. “Is that all? Do you have a location?” The Major presses.
