The leader passed the phones back to him, said something in Arabic, and the fighter ripped the backs off the phones, popped out the SIM cards, and threw everything separately onto the pile. While he did this, the leader opened the passports, looking up to match the faces with the passport photos.
“Steven Jacob Jones. Australian. John Hayes. English,” he read out loud, spitting out the word English with derision. “Mansur Wahibi. Oman.” He looked up and stared at Mansur. He said something in Arabic, and Mansur refused to answer, but John could see his eyes blazing. The man shook his head, cleared his throat, and spat on the floor at Mansur’s feet. He then stuffed the passports into the thigh pocket of his camouflage pants, turned on his heel, muttered something to the guards, then walked out the door. The men stayed still, weapons still trained on the men until the sound of a vehicle leaving carried through the window. They then stepped forward and rummaged through the pile, selecting pieces of clothing, and picking up the phones and reassembling them before sliding them into their own pockets. One stepped forward, knelt beside John, and pushed him over to his side. John could feel his fingers near his bound wrists. What was happening? Were they going to let him go? But then he felt the strap of his G-Shock being loosened and slipped off his wrist. The fighter stood up with a grin and held the watch in the air in front of his colleagues. The other men commented, and they each stepped forward and removed Steve’s and Mansur’s watches, slipping them into their pockets before turning and walking out the door, pulling it shut behind them.
68
“Have you heard from Steve yet?”
Maadhavi shook her head. “Not since this morning’s message. You?”
“No.” Adriana looked at her watch, four p.m. She frowned and walked to the hotel room window and stared out the window at the Tigris flowing past. On the other side of the river was Syria. Where are you, John? She turned around and leaned against the windowsill and crossed her arms.
“I hate the waiting.”
“Me, too. Why do you think we haven’t heard? Steve’s message said they were meeting Mia at ten this morning.” A note of worry was creeping into Maadhavi’s voice. It was understandable. It was the not knowing that was always worse.
Adriana had been there before, but she’d learned the hard way, you had to keep busy and stay positive. Otherwise, negative thoughts would drag you in a downward spiral that was almost impossible to get out of.
“It could be anything. No signal, flat battery. There’s no point in worrying just yet. They’re not likely to make it back here until tonight or tomorrow. I’m sure one of us will get a message soon.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Adriana smiled. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll send a message to John, too. I’m sure one of them will reply as soon as they get a signal.” She walked over to the bedside table, picked up her phone, typed out a message, and hit send.
“Come, let’s go down to the restaurant and see what they have for afternoon tea. We need to do something to pass the time, and we’ve already seen what there is to see in the town. Might as well eat some good food.”
69
The room was growing dark when they heard footsteps and voices outside again. The door swung open with a bang, and two of the fighters dragged a black-clad figure through the doorway and threw it on the floor. One gave the body a kick with his boot, but the figure didn’t move or make a sound. He said something to the other fighter, and they laughed before leaving the room, pulling the door closed behind them. John peered through the darkness at the black shape lying at his feet. Who was it? It wasn’t moving, but he could see the faint up and down movement of the fabric as the body breathed. Whoever it was, they were alive.
John turned to look at Mansur and nodded. Mansur understood, cleared his throat, and spoke in Arabic. There was no response. He spoke again—nothing. He looked back at John and shrugged as well as he could with his hands bound behind his back.
John looked at the body again.
“Hey. I know you can hear us.”
There was no response. John tried again.
“Hey.”
The body moved and groaned.
“Who are you?”
The voice was soft and feminine. Before John could reply, he heard Steve.
“Mia?”
The body stopped moving.
“Mia, is that you?”
“Unc... Uncle... Steve?”
“Mia!” Steve shuffled along the floor until he was next to the body. “Mia, it’s me, it’s me...” His voice broke.
The body moved and tried to sit up. They heard a groan, then the body was still. “Uncle Steve... I’m so sorry...”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Steve looked to John for help. Using his feet, John dragged himself closer.
“Mia, my name is John. I am Steve’s friend. I’m going to help you.”
Mia didn’t say anything.
“We’ll remove your hood, so you can see each other. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Steve, I’m going to turn my back, so my hands are facing her. Guide me so I can grip the hood, and I’ll pull it off.”
Steve nodded, his face filled with emotion. John shuffled around until his back was to Mia, then pushed himself closer until he felt his fingertips touching the rough hessian cloth of the hood.
“Is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Mia, I’ll pull it off now.” John gripped the cloth with his fingertips, then shuffled away from her.
“Keep going,” Steve encouraged, “keep going, keep...” Steve’s voice trailed off, and John turned to see what had happened. Tears streamed from Steve’s eyes as he looked down at the young lady lying on the floor. She was pale as if she hadn’t seen the sun for a long time, her hair lank and greasy, and her face was thin and hard. A single tear trickled from a swollen eye and tracked a path down over the livid black and green bruise on the side of her face.
“Oh, Mia, what have they done to you?”
“Uncle Steve,” Mia’s voice came out as a whisper. “You are here.”
“I’m here, Mia. I’m here.”
John exchanged glances with Mansur. They had found her, or rather, she had found them, but what was the point? It didn’t mean anything if they didn’t get out of there. He shuffled his butt away from Steve toward Mansur, giving the pair what little privacy they could in the confined space.
“We have to get out of here, Mansur,” John muttered. “Otherwise, they’ll kill us.”
“They won’t do it until tomorrow.”
John looked at Mansur with surprise. “How do you know?”
Mansur sighed. “They will want an audience. It will be a public execution. So, they will wait until daylight.”
“Fuck.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Mansur. I should never have asked you to come.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not up to you.” Mansur smiled at John. “The time and place of my death is already written. Maybe it is tomorrow, maybe it isn’t.”
John sighed. “I wish I had your faith, Mansur, but I’m not going to sit here and wait. We have to try something.”
“John, I never said we shouldn’t try, but the end result is not up to us.”
“Hmmm, okay.” John struggled his hands against the rope binding his wrist together. “How tight are your hands bound?”
“Tight. I’ve tried already.”
“Mine, too.” John thought for a bit. “Do you think if we backed up to each other, we could untie them?”
“We can try.”
Both men adjusted their positions until their backs were to each other.
“I’ll try yours first,” John said. His fingers probed the knot on the rope holding Mansur’s wrists together. The rope was hard, possibly nylon, and the knot was tight. John couldn’t get his fingertips to loosen the knot, and after several minutes’ struggle, he had to admit defeat. “I can’t do it.”
“I will try yours
.”
John felt Mansur’s fingers exploring his restraints, but after a minute or two, he gave up as well.
“It’s too tight, John. The rope is very hard. It needs to be cut.”
“Shit.” John looked over at Steve and Mia. Mia was sitting up, leaning her head against Steve’s shoulder as they carried on a quiet conversation.
“Maybe there is something in here we can use?” John swung his feet to the side and rolled onto his knees. He looked around the room as Mansur did the same. “You look that side, I’ll search this side.”
John maneuvered himself across the floor on his knees, peering into the darkness, looking for anything that could be used as a sharp edge. He lost balance twice and fell to his side, and by the time he had checked his side of the room, he was out of breath, and his knees were bruised.
“Nothing.”
“Same here,” Mansur replied from the other side of the room.
“Shit,” John cursed under his breath. What the fuck did they do now?
70
Adriana chewed her lip as she waited for the phone to connect. Maadhavi stood in front of her, waiting nervously, her hands clasped together in front of her chest.
When they hadn’t received a reply to their text messages by seven, they had both tried calling John’s and Steve’s phones. Maadhavi tried first, but all she got was a recorded message in another language. Adriana got the same result.
Adriana was struggling to keep herself together, but she had to put on a confident front for Maadhavi and had decided to ask for help.
The phone connected, and she heard the ringing tone in her ear.
“It’s ringing.” She smiled at Maadhavi.
“Hello?”
“Craig, it’s Adriana.”
“Adriana, hi, what’s happening? Where are you?”
“Craig, I’m putting the phone on speaker. Maadhavi is here with me.” Adriana tapped the screen and then held the phone out between them.
“Hello, Craig.”
“Hi, Maadhavi. Is everything okay?”
“We...” Maadhavi’s voice broke.
Adriana took over. “Craig, we haven’t heard from John and Steve all day. They haven’t replied to our messages, and their phones aren’t ringing.”
“Okay, okay, let’s take a step back. Tell me from the beginning. Where are they?”
Adriana took a deep breath and realized the hand holding the phone was shaking.
“They messaged this morning, saying they were heading to a location near Saraqib. They were going to pick up Mia, then head back here.”
“Okay, well... there could be any reason why you can’t get hold of them. The signal can be terrible. Their phone batteries might have died. Sometimes, there is no electricity, and you can’t charge the phone.”
“Yes, okay.”
“You are in Cizre, right?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a long way from Saraqib to the border there. It will take a full day of driving, maybe more. There are checkpoints everywhere. The road is terrible in places. What time were they meeting her?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“Hmmm, okay... Assume she could have been late. If they left at eleven... it’s now seven-thirty. Look, they won’t reach you tonight. They probably won’t travel in the dark. It’s too risky. They must be resting up somewhere and will continue on in the morning.”
“Okay, Craig. It’s just...”
“I know. Waiting is horrible.”
Adriana heard him sigh.
“Let me make some calls. I have contacts in the aid agencies. I even know a few officials. I’ll see if there are any reports of anything happening, but I don’t want to say too much to them. I don’t want to alert anyone.”
“Thank you, Craig.” Adriana smiled at Maadhavi. “I’m sure it will all be okay, but please, if you hear anything, let us know.”
“I will. There was nothing on the wire about anything north of Saraqib today. There was shelling west of the city and a few minor skirmishes, but nothing where they were. It looks like the ceasefire will happen, so I’m sure they’ll be okay.”
“Thank you, Craig, we appreciate it. If we hear from them, we’ll let you know.”
“I know it’s hard, but get some rest. For all we know, they will be back with you by this time tomorrow.”
“I hope so.”
“I’ll be in touch soon. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, and thanks, Craig.”
Adriana ended the call and looked at Maadhavi. She smiled.
“It will be okay.”
“I hope so,” she gulped.
Adriana stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.
“Hey, as Craig said, by this time tomorrow, they will be back with us.”
Maadhavi said nothing, just rested her cheek on Adriana’s shoulder as Adriana stared at their reflection in the darkened window.
She hoped Craig was right.
71
They couldn’t sleep, so they talked. No-one wanted to think about the next day, so they talked of happier things—childhood, love, funny events that had happened to them. They hadn’t eaten since the morning, so when their stomachs growled, they moved on to food, deciding on the first thing they would eat if they got out of there. Steve craved a cold beer while Mansur described Warda’s mutton biryani so well, their mouths were watering. Mia’s desire was simpler. She just wanted to sit at a table with a tablecloth, clean cutlery, and plates, and to eat enough to fill her stomach. It had been so long since she had eaten a proper meal, she had forgotten what it felt like.
John listened quietly. He was hungry, and the thought of a well-made Botanist and tonic, crossed his mind, but mostly he thought of Adriana. He wondered what she was doing. How worried she must be. Closing his eyes, he pictured her standing before him, her hair falling on the sun-kissed skin of her shoulders, the sparkle in her hazel colored eyes as she smiled. He wished he could contact her, reassure her, tell her not to worry, tell her he loved her. He could feel the emotion welling up inside him, and he willed himself to think positive.
He remembered his conversation with Mansur. Maybe he was right. Maybe the time and date of his death was already written. Maybe it wouldn’t be tomorrow. The thought gave him a little hope. He visualized Adriana again, slowed his breathing, feeling his body relax. Adriana, I love you. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. If there was a metaphysical world, perhaps she would get his message.
Anyway, he felt calmer and somehow perhaps a little confident for the first time. It was ridiculous, given that he was tied up on the floor of a house in a war-torn country, but tomorrow was another day. Anything could happen. He turned his attention outward again and tuned into the conversation between Steve and his niece.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Steve.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. Because of me, you are here, your friends are here.”
“Hey, hey, I’m glad you reached out to me.” Steve paused. “You know, the day I found out you had crossed into Syria was the worst day of my life.” John heard Steve’s voice break. “I thought I would never see you again. So, whatever happens tomorrow, at least I got to see you once more.”
Mia said nothing.
John cleared his throat. “Where’s Naeem?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he know where you are? What happened to you?” John heard Mia sigh.
“I don’t know. I... thought I heard his voice at one stage, but...”
“If he does know, is he likely to help you?”
“I... I don’t know anymore. He’s different. I mean, he loves...” Mia’s voice trailed off.
John waited.
“He loves... Malak.”
John heard a sniff, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet, just above a whisper.
“She didn’t deserve to be born into a place like this. I made a mistake... I’ve ruined so many lives....”
72
John watched the room take shape as a fresh day began, the black turning to grey as the sun peeked above the horizon.
He had slept little but didn’t feel tired. His fingers were numb, and his buttocks sore from sitting in one position, but his mind was on the day ahead. What was going to happen? He looked over at Mansur lying on his side, his chest rising up and down as he slept. He said he wasn’t worried, but could that be true? He was sleeping soundly enough.
John glanced over at Steve, leaning against the wall, the slight figure of Mia leaning against him. She slept soundly, a look of peace on her face. As if feeling John’s gaze, Steve’s eyes blinked open, and he turned his head to look at him, held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. Turning away, he looked toward the window where long rays of sun began to stream through, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. John followed the direction of his gaze, and they sat staring at the light. The constant shelling of the previous day was absent, and they could hear the chirping of birds.
Mansur stirred and with difficulty, maneuvered himself into a sitting position. He smiled at John and Steve, then closed his eyes, and his lips moved silently.
John watched him, wishing he believed in something, something that gave him the inner peace Mansur seemed to possess, but he couldn’t bring himself to surrender to the unknown. He had to be alert, ready for any possibility they could free themselves. He wouldn’t give up just yet.
In the distance they heard vehicles, the sound getting nearer as they waited. The vehicles stopped outside the building, and they heard voices and the slamming of doors.
Payback - John Hayes Series 06 (2020) Page 17
