Payback - John Hayes Series 06 (2020)

by Abbott, Mark David

  “But what gives them the right to take women as slaves, to rape them? Some of them are only twelve or thirteen years old.”

  “They are a gift from God.” Naeem sighed. “It is written. Allah, subhanahu wa-ta’ala says so. ‘Successful are the believers who guard their chastity, except from their wives or that their right hands possess, for then they are free from blame.’ We possess them, so it’s allowed.”

  “And you believe this?” Mia’s voice rose.

  “Quiet.” Naeem glared at her. “It’s in the book.”

  “What has happened to you, Naeem? This is not the Islam you taught me. What happened to loving all, to doing good? The book also says, ‘Do good; indeed, Allah, peace be upon him, loves the doers of good.’ What about that? And the Prophet, peace be upon him, himself said, ‘A man’s true wealth is the good he does in this world.’ Do you really think keeping young girls as slaves is doing good?”

  Mia could see a vein pulsing in Naeem’s neck as he glared at her.

  “We are doing good. By expelling the kuffaar from this land. These...”—he jerked his head toward the Yazidi women—“are our reward.”

  “Is that what I am to you? A reward?”

  “No.” Naeem looked away. He glanced around the room again, at the men resting on one side, the women huddled to gather on the other. “You are the mother of my daughter.”

  “And if I didn’t have a daughter?”

  Naeem didn’t answer, his eyes back on Malak’s face, rocking her gently.

  Mia sank back into angry silence. She couldn’t believe how much Naeem had changed. He was so different when they met back in Australia. It seemed unreal as if she had imagined the entire thing. She again searched her heart for any trace of the love she held before, but it wasn’t there. She was used to him, and she relied on him to keep her safe, but love? No way. She had to leave him. Thank Allah for Uncle Steve. She couldn’t stay in a relationship like this or live in a place where human life was considered worthless if you dared to believe in something else. Uncle Steve. Oh no!

  She looked at her watch again, and her heart sank. In all the activity of the fighters arriving, she had forgotten about Steve’s call. It was well past the time when she was supposed to have turned the phone on.

  “Naeem,” she whispered.

  He looked up from Malak.

  “Uncle Steve was supposed to call. But...” Her eyes darted around the room. “I can’t turn the phone on.”

  Naeem widened his eyes in warning and shook his head. “No, don’t let anyone find out about the phone. Especially Abu Mujahid.” He chewed his lip. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way.”

  Naeem flinched at a sound behind him. He turned to see a fighter standing up. The man stretched, then walked over to the women. He looked down on them for a moment, then reached out his hand and grabbed one of the girls. Mia searched for her name; Nour, she was seventeen. He pulled her away from the others and dragged her to her feet. She didn’t make a sound, didn’t fight back, just allowed herself to be pulled along like a rag doll. He pushed her out the door and upstairs, to a chorus of jibes and sniggers from the other men.

  Mia shuddered. Whatever she now thought of Naeem, at least he had kept her protected from this sort of thing.

  “Why can’t we be alone again? Like before. Why are these men here?”

  “Keep your voice down.” Naeem shot her an angry look, looking over his shoulder to make sure no-one had heard. Looking back at Mia, he continued, “It’s not like before... we are...” He lowered his voice. “Losing. The Russians are coming. We all have to stick together now.”

  “What do you mean losing?”

  “Why do you think we have to run in the middle of the night? Almost all the territory we won has been taken back by the government forces and the Russians.” He looked down at the baby in his arms and whispered, “Soon, we will have nowhere to go.”

  “Then what will happen to us?”

  Naeem didn’t answer at first. When he spoke, it was a whisper, “That is why we have to leave.”

  Mia watched him as he stared at Malak. The sooner Uncle Steve came and got them, the better.

  They stayed like that, both watching Malak sleep as one by one, the men stood and took a woman from the room, only to return a short while later, their smiling faces in complete contrast with the downcast, shamed looks of the women. The women took it without complaint, without protest, like zombies, retreating into themselves.

  The only one who didn’t partake was Abu Mujahid. He sat cradling his now clean AKM in his lap, and every time Mia looked up, she could feel his eyes boring into her as if he was waiting to pounce.

  46

  John nuzzled his face into the fold of Adriana’s neck, where it joined her shoulders and held her close. She smelled of lavender and musk. Would this be the last time he would see her? He pulled back a little, so he could see her face, a tear trickling from the corner of her eye as she returned his gaze.

  “Be careful, John. I want you back in one piece.”

  He smiled and wiped the tear away with his finger. Leaning in, he kissed her lips. Despite the smile on his face, his heart was heavy. He didn’t want to leave her, but he’d made a promise. A promise to a friend who had put his own life on the line before for John, and there was no way John could let him down.

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” he reassured her and hoped it was true. “Keep the phone on, text me, but don’t call. I’ll call you whenever we’re in a safe place.”

  “Okay.” Adriana sniffled.

  “If all goes to plan, we will be back in two to three days. Reserve an extra room in our name for Mia and her child.”

  Adriana nodded, her eyes still holding his.

  “As soon as I know when and how we are getting back, I will text you. I might need you to bring the minivan to pick us up. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I know you can.” John smiled and brushed a lock of hair away from her face with his right hand. “The key is with the concierge. The van is in the basement parking. It’s a silver Mercedes Vito just like the one we had in Istanbul.”

  “Okay.”

  John let go of her waist and checked his watch.

  “Okay, I have to go now.” He leaned forward and kissed her again. “Get some sleep. Before you know it, we’ll be back, and it will seem like none of this has happened.”

  Adriana gave a sad smile and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

  John turned, picked up the backpack leaning against the wall, and opened the door. Stepping outside, he saw Steve doing the same. He nodded in his direction, then looked back at Adriana standing in the doorway. She wrapped the hotel robe tighter around herself and stepped forward and kissed John again.

  “Good luck.”

  “See you soon.” John smiled and turned before she could see the tears in his eyes.

  John walked down the corridor toward Steve and smiled at Maadhavi, who also stood in the doorway.

  “Bye, Maadhavi.”

  She swallowed and gave a half-smile.

  John looked back over his shoulder, saw Adriana still standing there, and gave her a wave. He walked ahead and waited by the lift for Steve to finish his goodbyes. The lift pinged just as Steve approached.

  “Did you get hold of Mia?”

  Steve shook his head, his forehead creased with worry.

  John frowned. He stepped into the lift and turned around, Steve followed him in, and the doors closed behind him.

  “Mansur?”

  “He’s gone down already.”

  “Good.”

  “What do we do, John? If we can’t get hold of her?”

  John looked down at the floor of the lift. What was the right thing to do, the sensible thing? The sensible thing would have been to stay at home. He looked up.

  “We keep trying, Steve. We’ve come this far. We’ll keep pushing forward.” He slapped Steve on the shoulder. “Stay positive, Steve. This will
work.”

  Steve exhaled loudly but didn’t look convinced. John wasn’t so sure, either.

  “Send her a text once we’re in the car. Tell her all is going well, and we will be there tomorrow night. If she had no signal or the battery was flat, she’ll get it once the phone is working again.”

  “Yeah...” Steve sighed.

  “Come on, Steve. We can do this.”

  He nodded and gave a tight smile.

  The two men rode the lift down to the basement, stepping out into a dimly lit car park. Mansur was waiting for them, dressed as they were in dark cargo pants, jackets, and trekking boots. They each carried navy blue ballistic vests with Press stuck to the front and back with Velcro, and Steve carried a camera bag with a camera body and two lenses.

  John looked at both the men.

  “No second thoughts?”

  Steve and Mansur shook their heads.

  “Right, let’s go then.”

  They walked three abreast up the parking ramp and out onto the road. The air was cool and quiet, and the road empty apart from the pickup idling by the curb. They walked over, hoisted their bags into the back, and pulled a tarpaulin over them, then climbed into the double cab, John up front with Hemin.

  “Good morning, Hemin.”

  “Good morning.” He smiled, flashing white teeth under a luxuriant mustache. He shifted in his seat, turned so he could face the back, and studied the two men sitting behind him. He seemed to be satisfied with what he saw and nodded a greeting.

  Both men nodded back but stayed silent. Hemin turned back to the front and looked at John expectantly.

  John gave him a nod.

  “Let’s go, Hemin.”

  47

  Adriana stood in the doorway, her heart in her throat, as John walked toward the lift. She understood why he had to go. Steve had saved their lives back in Oman when they didn’t even know him. Now, as a friend, when he asked for help, there was no way John could have turned down the request, but it didn’t make things any easier to watch the man you love walk off into a situation from which he may not come back. Adriana blinked away tears as she saw Steve give a last kiss to Maadhavi and walk after John. The two men disappeared inside the lift, and Maadhavi turned to go back into her room.

  “Are you okay?” Adriana called out.

  Maadhavi looked up and gave a sad smile. Her eyes moist, she wiped her cheek and nodded.

  “Do you want to come and stay with me? I don’t think I will sleep much.”

  “Thank you.” Maadhavi reached inside the doorway, removed the key card from the slot, and allowed the door to close. She walked down the corridor to Adriana’s room, and Adriana stepped aside to let her enter. Closing the door behind her, she followed Maadhavi into the room.

  “Would you like a drink? I think there is something in the minibar.”

  Maadhavi shook her head. “No, thank you.” She looked around, and Adriana waved toward the bed.

  “Make yourself comfortable. It will be a long night.”

  Maadhavi climbed onto the bed and leaned against the headboard, pulling the covers over her legs.

  Adriana climbed in beside her, and they stared at the wall at the foot of the bed.

  “How do you do this?”

  “What do you mean?” Adriana looked over, unsure of Maadhavi’s meaning.

  “I mean, wait for John, knowing he is doing something so dangerous? When... he came to India... when he saved me.” She looked up at Adriana. “You knew what he was going to do?”

  Adriana nodded slowly.

  “Not everything.” She reached over and held Maadhavi’s hand. “It had to be done. Surya Patil was an evil man. He tried to kill John and me. He had to be stopped. Otherwise, we would never have been able to live in peace.”

  “I know all that, but...”

  “Was I worried? Yes, of course, I was.” Adriana smiled. “It was terrible. I couldn’t sleep properly for days.” She squeezed Maadhavi’s hand. “But John and Steve aren’t ordinary men. John has dealt with things you can never imagine. Maybe one day, he’ll tell you. Steve, too. If it wasn’t for him, John and I would be buried in the desert in Oman. If anyone can do this, it’s them. I’m worried, too, but what’s the alternative? We make them stay with us in safety because of our own fears and let his niece and her daughter die in Syria?” She shook her head. “That would be selfish, and it would destroy the spirit of the men we love. They would regret it for the rest of their lives and probably resent us. I couldn’t do it.”

  “Yes, I know you’re right, but...” Maadhavi gulped, “If anything were to happen to Steve, I don’t know what I would do. I’ve... I’ve only just found him.”

  “Don’t worry.” Adriana gave a reassuring smile. “Nothing is going to happen. Now tell me all about how you met Steve.”

  48

  They headed southeast along the E90, which roughly followed the route of the River Tigris. The roads were empty, only the occasional goods vehicle trundling along in the slow lane or passing in the opposite direction. John lowered his window a little to savor the cool night air.

  He turned his attention to the man sitting beside him. Perhaps in his late thirties, he had the weather-beaten face of someone who spent a lot of his life outdoors. His handshake had been strong and firm, and he exuded a feeling of confidence. Right or wrong, John had liked him instantly, in complete contrast to his boss.

  “Do you do this a lot?”

  Hemin glanced at him, then looked in the mirror, studying the men behind him, deciding how much to say.

  “I have done it before, yes.”

  They drove in silence for a while, then Hemin asked, “Why do you want to go there? I saw your vests. It says Press, but...” He glanced sideways at John. “I don’t think you are press.”

  “Why not?”

  Hemin snorted. “Press don’t need to enter Syria illegally. They cross the border at the normal crossing.”

  “Mehmet didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  John remained silent. Perhaps there was a reason Mehmet hadn’t told his man why they were crossing.

  Hemin kept quiet for a while.

  “You are not fighters. I’ve seen the fighters, they are different.” He glanced in the rear mirror again, then looked at John. “Who are you?”

  John didn’t know what to say. He felt he could trust the man but was reluctant to give too much information. Steve saved him from making a decision.

  “Hemin, right?” Steve leaned forward and spoke from the back. “I’m Steve. My niece is over there with her baby. Her baby is sick. We are going to rescue her. We have nothing to do with any government, Al Qaeda, or ISIS, or whatever it’s called in these parts. We just want to bring a young girl and her daughter to safety. Do you understand me?”

  Hemin frowned and nodded slowly, his eyes alternating between the road ahead and the image of Steve in his rear-view mirror.

  “The girl is like a daughter to me, so if you or your boss are planning any monkey business, and you prevent me from saving her life, I will come back here and rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat.” He sat back in his seat, scowling at the back of Hemin’s head.

  Mansur leaned across and whispered, “Monkey business?”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  John turned to look at Steve with raised eyebrows. He wasn’t sure how to tell him to calm down without actually saying it, but Steve seemed to understand. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then stared out the window into the darkness.

  John turned back to the front and watched the road, hoping Steve’s outburst wouldn’t have a detrimental effect. A sign for the Iraqi border flashed past on his right, and he hoped they were heading in the right direction.

  “How old is the girl?” Hemin asked after a tense couple of minutes.

  “Twenty-four,” John replied.

  “And the baby?”

  “Maybe eighteen months.”

  Hemin shook his head and m
uttered something in Turkish. His eyes moved to the rear-view mirror.

  “You can trust me. Don’t worry.”

  49

  They followed the highway for twenty minutes, at one point passing a long line of semi-trailers parked along the side of the road.

  “They will cross into Iraq in the morning,” Hemin said by way of explanation. “The border gate is about fifteen kilometers ahead.”

  “Is that where we are going?”

  Hemin grinned and shook his head. “Wait and see.”

  “Hemin, there is something I don’t understand. The Turkish government is supporting the fight against the Syrian government?”

  Hemin raised one hand off the steering wheel at the same time as he shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

  “Hmmm, everyone seems to say that.”

  Hemin glanced across at John.

  “These matters are beyond people like you and me. These are the games of our leaders.” He shook his head and went back to looking at the road ahead. “The Syrian people are good. We have traded with them for thousands of years. But...” He sighed. “Power, money, greed...”

  “Religion,” added John.

  “No, no, no,” Hemin protested vehemently. “What is happening there is not about religion. Religion is the... how do you say? Tool. The fight in Syria is about oil, money, control.”

  John was beginning to like Hemin, confirming his earlier impression. This simple working man, dressed in farmer’s clothes, knew a lot more about what was really happening than so many so-called educated people.

  “Who do you think is fighting the Syrian government? Freedom fighters? No, it is Al Qaeda, Daesh. And who do you think is funding them, training them, supplying them with weapons?”

  “Turkey.”

  “Not just Turkey. America, England, Saudi Arabia. All the people who tell us Al Qaeda and Daesh are our enemies.”

  “How do you know?”

  Hemin laughed. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

  John chewed his lip and stared out the window. He wasn’t surprised. He already knew the world was a shitty place. He turned back to Hemin.