To my dear daughter, Daisy Rose,
If you are reading this, it means that I am no longer with you and that Auntie D. and your Dad feel that you are old enough to know the reason why. First, I want you to know that I love you from the very bottom of my heart. Last night I held you while you slept. I held you so closely that I felt your little heart beat against my chest. Darling daughter, I want you to know that you have brought such joy into my life. My greatest accomplishment is being your mother.
I have to make a decision that I know may be a dangerous one. If you are reading this it did prove fatal. When I was growing up my Mama, your Grandma Daisy, taught me that if there was ever someone who needed your help or was in danger, it was your moral obligation to help that person. She would say to me ‘Lily, you can never turn your back on someone in need, not ever.’ So that is what I must do. There is a doctor who went all the way to Africa to help sick children. These children don’t have doctors there to take care of them. While he was there, some bad people took him and wouldn’t let him go. I promised his mother that I would go to Africa to help rescue him. If you are reading this, I died while I was there and, for that, I am eternally sorry.
I know that you have turned out to be a wonderful girl and your Daddy is proud of you. I am filled with deep sorrow knowing I will never see you grow into a beautiful woman. I will not be there to hear about your first kiss or dry your tears when you are heartbroken. I will not be in the audience when you graduate from school, nor will I watch you walk down the aisle, dressed in white, when you marry the man of your dreams.
Daisy Rose I pray that you are happy. Always know you are worthy of deep love and respect. I will always be your forever guardian angel, watching over you and keeping you safe.
Please forgive me.
xo Mama xo
Lily sealed the letter inside the envelope with hopes that it would never have to be opened.
Now nine days later, with only three more hours to go until they would land at Adden Adde International airport in Mogadishu, Lily closed her eyes and silently prayed to God:
“Heavenly Father, it’s me. Lily. I know you must think I’m only in touch when I need something or when I’m scared. That’s not true, really. Well maybe it’s somewhat true, but I do try to think about you often. But with a toddler and the play just closing and now this whole thing with Robbie, I am crazy busy. Not to say you’re not busy too. I can only imagine what you have on your plate with seven billion people to watch over.”
Lily sighed because no matter how many times she prayed she always felt like she didn’t have a firm grasp on what to say and how to say it. “We both know I’m not really good at this, but dear Lord, I ask you to please watch over me and all these fine men who are putting themselves in danger in order to save Robbie. Please help us return safely to our families. And dear God, please keep Robbie safe and guide these men to find and rescue him. Please soften the hearts of his captors and shepherd them toward good and away from evil. Amen. Oh, and God, can you find my mom and put her on the line?”
With her eyes still closed, Lily imagined that Daisy was seated opposite her, holding her hand and looking into her eyes as she had done all Lily’s life. “Mom I’m having a hard time in this world without you. Things don’t work the same since you’ve been gone. Have you been watching Daisy Rose? She has your eyes and curly hair. And Mom, she is as sweet as sugar; you would love her to pieces.” Lily wiped away the tears flowing from her closed eyes. “Mom I haven’t felt your presence in the longest time. Please give me a sign that you are still with me. I miss you so much.”
With that, Lily wiped her cheeks, put on her sleeping mask, leaned her chair back, and tried to get some much needed rest.
Chapter 15
Blindfolded, with hands bound together, Robbie sat in the back of an open jeep, being transported to an unknown destination. Every time the vehicle hit a rock or a hole in the road, he was propelled to one side or the other. He hoped that the AK-47 being held to his back didn’t discharge by mistake. What if, after all these months of enduring one brutal beating after another, he was accidently shot due to poor road conditions?
The driver decelerated as the terrain became rougher. Within a few moments the jeep stopped and Robbie was forcefully shoved outside. They walked him inside a building, using the nozzle of the gun to prod him to move faster. Eventually he was brought into a room and pushed into a wooden chair, where they removed his blindfold and untied his hands that had become numb from lack of blood flow. He moved his fingers to bring circulation back.
Robbie looked around the room. It was empty except for a desk and two chairs. His experience with rooms like this was that he would walk in of his own volition but would always have to be carried out, sometimes unconscious and always bleeding. The result of these torture sessions had left him with a lame leg and severe scars. When he felt hopeless, he would touch the scars, his fingers would slowly move up and down each one. He would force himself to remember the events and torment that had led to each wound. His body endured their blows but he refused to allow them to infect his spirit.
Robbie’s method of detaching himself from the horrors around him was to think of another time and place where agony did not play a routine role in his everyday life. Many of his go-to memories were of Lily and of the days and nights they spent together. Often when he was thrown into a room such as this one, he would leaf through the pages of his remembrances, like a vast photo album in his mind, to choose the one recollection that would sustain him through the torture du jour.
Robbie decided, as soon as the door opened, that he would visualize sailing with Lily. The Long Island Sound was calm, there was a whisper of wind that barely caught their sails and gently carried them across to Connecticut. She stood at the helm, her face turned up to catch the rays of sun; her long chestnut hair flowed behind her. She beckoned to him to join her, whereupon he walked up to her, moved her hair aside, and kissed her neck. He paused to breathe in the scent of gardenias that always seemed to float a few inches above her skin.
The door opened abruptly and four men entered. As usual, they were dressed in fatigues and were armed. They stood around the perimeter of the room, their black faces stoic, their eyes fixed on him. And they waited.
A few minutes later, the door opened again. There was no doubt, with his easy gait and commanding presence, that the man who walked in was the man in charge. His demeanor was different from the others. He smiled at Robbie, and extended his hand. Robbie tentatively shook it. He sat in a chair behind the large wooden desk.
“So, you’ve gone through a rough time, isn’t that right, Doctor?” Robbie couldn’t immediately tell if his accent was Somali or Arabic. Robbie nodded in response.
“First, let me introduce myself. I am Mubaarak Abdikarim. Do you know what that means, Doctor?” Robbie shook his head.
“It means Blessed God’s Chosen One. So I am lucky, right? Abdikarim threw back his head and laughed, triggering an immediate reaction among his underlings who also laughed.
He slammed his hand on the desk hard and Robbie jumped. Abdikarim’s subordinates stopped in mid-laughter.
He leaned closer to Robbie and smiled. “Luck, my friend, had nothing to do with it.”
So now you will think of yourself as Mubaarak: You, too, will be blessed. You are one of the chosen ones and I will explain the reason for this. First, would you care for a drink of water?” Robbie nodded his head.
He barked the order at one of the guards standing in the back of the room and the man left swiftly.
“You live and work in New York City, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, Manhattan.” Mubaarak sat back in his chair, looked up at the ceiling, and reminisced. “I attended Princeton University and spent many wonderful times in the Big Apple. Even with my meager student stipend I was able to attend many Broadway shows. And several times I attended the Metropolitan Opera. I miss the entertainment—the city that never sleeps—t
he nightlife is wonderful, is it not?
He looked at the other men. “There is not much night life in Mogadishu in recent years.” They all laughed.
The guard hurried back into the room, carrying a large glass of water. He stumbled and spilled half of it near Robbie’s feet. Abdikarim glared at the guard as he handed the almost-empty glass to Robbie and walked back to where he had previously stood.
“And the cost of living is high here, but not at all as expensive as in New York City.” He clapped his hands together and smiled.
“So would you like to go back to the Big Apple, Dr. Rosen?”
“Yes,” Robbie replied warily.
“I would, too. And if we work together, we can both return to New York City. You with your health and life intact and me with some jingle jangle in my pockets to spend at all the fancy restaurants. You and I are going to go into big business together. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
Robbie was quiet. Abdikarim ignored his silence, folded his hands, and smiled. “So now, you must be wondering to yourself, ‘How can I possibly be of benefit to a man whose name means Blessed God’s Chosen One? He already has so many gifts bestowed upon him.’ Well, I will tell you how you can be of service. Dr. Rosen. Did you know that you were hand-selected to be here?”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Did you think my men came into the hospital compound and randomly seized you?
Robbie shrugged.
Abdikarim smiled, “I assure you, it was not my men. You were taken and tortured by another group. They wanted you for the big ransom that a doctor from the United States would surely bring. The other doctors were collateral damage, unfortunately. And not valuable to anyone.” Robbie winced.
Abdikarim stood up, grabbed his chair and dragged it around his desk, placed it next to Robbie, sat down, and crossed his legs.
“When I heard from those uneducated braggarts that they had abducted Dr. Preston Wells’s protégé, I was elated. I have wanted to meet you for a long time.”
“You could have come in during clinic hours to talk to me,” Robbie growled.
Abdikarim laughed and looked at his men. “A gifted surgeon and a sense of humor! He will make good company for the nurses in the operating room. So, getting back to my story, three years ago, you were in Liberia, no?”
Robbie nodded.
“Word got around that you were an exceptional surgeon. So what else could I do when I heard you were taken,” Abdikarim paused, “but make them an offer they could not refuse.” He threw back his head again and laughed. His men, of course, followed suit.
“Like Marlon Brando, get it?” Abdikarim caught his breath. “I paid for you. You were very expensive, Doctor I assure you. So now you belong to me and we come to the part where you learn why you have been brought here. Before I tell you, I want to assure you that I intend to bring in a doctor—a close friend of ours from Kenya.” He smiled at his men, knowingly. “He is a fine doctor and will make sure to treat any damage that my predecessors inflicted upon you. Before long you will be as good as new, because we have built a surgical unit just for you. It is taking longer than I had anticipated, and for that I am so sorry.”
A phone rang. It was the phone belonging to the guard who had spilled the water. He took the cell out of his pocket to answer it. Abdikarim glared at him again and the guard quickly put the phone back into his pocket.
“As you can imagine there are many people in the world who need organ transplants to survive. With your help, Doctor, we will be able to get the organs to them and save their lives. You will be a hero and I will become a wealthy man. Sounds like a good partnership, no?”
“I assume these organs will be sold on the black market?”
Abdikarim jumped up, clapped his hands once, and said, “Yes! Hearts, kidneys, livers, even skin. One brave soul at a time will get the opportunity to save many, many lives. Now you understand.”
“Who are the donors?”
Again Abdikarim looked at his men, “Well I wouldn’t exactly call them donors.” Again they all laughed. “Let’s call them unfortunate souls who are giving their lives for the good of science. Your job is not only to surgically remove the organs, but also to supervise the packing of them and to act as our liaison.”
Robbie jumped to his feet. Within seconds he had three guns pointed at him. Abdikarim waved his hand and the men lowered their weapons.
“I will not do that. I’m a doctor. I cannot kill people.”
Abdikarim pushed Robbie back in his chair and stared coldly into his eyes. All pleasantries had vanished. “You will do exactly as you are told to do. Do not underestimate my kindness today as weakness. I always get precisely what I want. And your life is only significant to me if you are augmenting my wallet. If you become worthless to me, well then….” He raised his gun and Robbie stiffened. The guard’s phone rang again, and without missing a beat Abdikarim turned and shot the guard right between his eyes. Abdikarim leaned in to the shaken Robbie, winked and whispered, “He was my brother-in-law.”
Chapter 16
Lily pulled her scarf down over her forehead, close to her eyes. She slipped the other end over her left shoulder to ensure that it covered her mouth and chin. They would be landing shortly. Remembering Maniadakis’s warning that since the culture was Muslim and because they were probably going to be the only white people in Mogadishu, they had to be as inconspicuous as possible. He was worried, with all the security he had hired to surround them, it would be difficult for them to fly under the radar.
Lily had her New York City bank wire $1,000,000.00 into an account in Maniadakis’s name in Central Bank, located in the capital city. There was a conference call between the executives of the two banks; an agreement was reached that, due to mitigating circumstances, if and when it became necessary to obtain additional funds, red tape would be circumvented and the money would be made available within hours.
The engine noise diminished as the plane began its descent. Lily turned to David, seated next to her; his eyes were closed and his hands gripped the worn leather arms. The plane landed and the Turkish Airlines flight attendant wished them all a safe journey.
“From her mouth to God’s ears,” Lily whispered to David. He squeezed her hand. Unbeknown to Lily, David’s unflustered demeanor actually concealed that he teetered on the cusp of a full-blown anxiety attack. Earlier, his nerves had gotten the best of him. He’d gone into the bathroom and had breathed repeatedly into a paper bag.
During their layover in Istanbul, while his sister was browsing in one of the many airport boutiques, David picked up a pamphlet at the gate. Its message was foreboding:
Travel Warning: The U.S. warns its citizens against all travel to Somalia. Interclan and interfactional fighting can flare up with little warning, and instances of kidnapping, murder, and other threats to U.S. citizens and foreigners can occur unpredictably in this and surrounding regions.
This was nothing that David didn’t already know. He had heard these safety warnings before—from Maniadakis and from others who knew first-hand the life-threatening peril that existed daily in Somalia. However, reading the threat advisory before boarding the plane to fly into the region unnerved him.
Before leaving the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face. He looked at his reflection in the small mirror above the sink.
What have I gotten Lily into? What kind of man am I?
He was certain that if the roles had been reversed and he had been the captured one, Robbie would have devised a strategy that would never have placed another person in harm’s way. David shuddered to think what Daisy would say, knowing that he had positioned her beloved daughter directly in the epicenter of mortal danger. He closed his eyes and made a silent vow. Daisy I promise I’ll do everything in my power to protect your daughter.
Now that the plane’s wheels had touched the ground, he knew that he had to do whatever he could to make sure his brother and sister both got home safe and sound.
Lily squeezed David’s hand. “As long as I have you next to me, I feel safe.” David swallowed hard to suppress his urge to throw up.
The cabin doors opened and the passengers got up from their seats. Lily glanced out the window and saw there was only one building in the airport. It was a small, two-story structure with a large sign attached to the front. The words ‘Aden Abdulle International Airport’ were written in blue and white in English and in Somali; the Arabic translation was in dark-green lettering. Lily looked to Maniadakis, who put his hand up, indicating that she should wait and follow behind him and his men.
When she stepped out of the plane onto the top of the airstairs, Lily was immediately propelled backward by a wall of blistering heat. She had to take shallow breaths because the fiery winds singed her lungs like tiny embers, while the engine fumes scorched her nostrils.
More than fifty men in tan uniforms stood on the tarmac, along with twenty more in full army fatigues and headgear. They shouted instructions to the disembarking passengers, using their high-powered assault weapons to point the direction they wanted the crowd to follow.
Had Lily found herself transported to Mars, it would have been less foreign to her than this airport, swarming with a military presence. Her feet were cemented to the small platform until the crowd pushed into her, forcing her to walk down the remaining ten steps.
Maniadakis and his men stood on the tarmac in front of the plane, speaking with a large group of guards. When she joined them, Lily saw he had provided all their necessary documents. One guard, who appeared to be the leader, examined them, scrutinized their faces as he did so, and then studied their passports. He shook his head, talked with his fellow guards in Somali, pointed to the passports, shook his head again, and finally pointed to three of Maniadakis’s men. The other guards nodded in agreement.
The Silver Cord: The Lily Lockwood Series: Book Two Page 12
