by Bill Ward
The man inspected the tickets and looked at his computer screen. Then he looked up at Powell. “Did you not book four seats, Sir?”
“I did but unfortunately my wife has been taken ill and can’t travel. Hopefully she’ll be able to join us in a couple of days.”
The man looked back down at his screen and pressed various keys. He had a further glance up, pressed some more keys then picked up the phone and said something in Arabic before replacing the receiver.
Powell was getting ready to run.
“Is there a problem,” Powell managed to ask.
“Just a small one, Sir. I’m sure it will only take a minute to sort out. I have asked for my supervisor.”
Powell could do nothing but wait for the inevitable. After a minute, he observed a man walking towards the desk wearing the uniform of ground crew. The two men spoke in Arabic and the supervisor looked at the screen. They were both pointing at the screen and speaking in heated Arabic.
Finally the supervisor looked up and smiled. “Sorry for the delay,” he apologised. “You had been allocated seats on the basis your wife was travelling with you, so two seats together and a further two seats behind. My colleague has been trying to change the seat numbers so you can all sit together as a three but the system was being difficult. I think we have finally managed to resolve matters. Enjoy your flight.”
“Thank you,” Powell said, feeling like the condemned man given a last minute stay of execution.
The supervisor walked away and Powell accepted his boarding passes like they were winning lottery tickets. He hurried away with the children and headed for Starbucks.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Powell sat down beside Jenkins and the kids. He handed out the drinks he’d just purchased.
“So far so good,” Jenkins said. “It all seems a bit too easy at the moment.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Powell agreed.
“I need the toilet,” Karim announced.
“I’ll take you,” Powell suggested.
“I’m not a baby” Karim said in disgust. “I can take a pee by myself.”
“Okay, the toilet is just over there,” Powell pointed.
Karim walked away and Powell watched him all the way to the toilet.
“Can I speak to mummy again?” Laila asked.
“Of course you can,” Powell answered and took his phone from his pocket.
He listened as Laila told her mother how much she had missed her, how her new name was Chris and her new haircut wasn’t too bad. Her hair would soon grow back.
“Karim missed you at first as well but he’s changed,” Laila said. “I’m sorry Mummy but he isn’t coming back to see you.”
Powell instinctively glanced towards the toilets. He looked down at the table and noticed Karim had taken his drink with him. Who takes their lemonade to the toilet if they’re planning on coming back?
“What do you mean Laila, he’s not going to go back? What did he say to you?” Powell demanded, too sharply.
“It’s not my fault,” Laila responded, close to tears.
Powell took back his phone and said quickly to Laila’s mother, “I’ll call you back shortly.”
Jenkins was quickly out of his seat and heading for the toilets. “I’ll go check on him.”
“Sorry Laila, I didn’t mean to shout but this is very important. Why did you say Karim isn’t going back?”
“He thinks he is a man now and he wants to live with Daddy.”
Powell glanced towards the toilets and his heart sunk as he saw Jenkins emerge alone. He beckoned him to return.
“Stay with Laila while I look for him,” Powell said. “He can’t have gone far.”
Powell walked quickly but tried not to attract attention. He took a look inside the toilets to confirm what Jenkins had discovered. He spotted a newsagent nearby. Perhaps Karim’s disappearance still had an innocent explanation. Powell hurriedly checked for any sign of Karim looking at the books and toys but he was nowhere to be seen. What would a ten year old boy do in these circumstances?
There were several policemen standing around so if Karim had wanted to ask for help from one of them, there was no shortage of opportunity. However, they did look a bit menacing with their machine guns on display and perhaps Karim would be intimidated.
He would want to speak with his father but Powell had checked and he didn’t have a mobile phone. There was no sign of any pay phones. Was it that simple? Powell rushed outside in the direction of the taxi rank. There was a short queue and sure enough, towards the end was Karim.
Powell made sure Karim didn’t see him approach from behind.
“The taxi driver won’t take you anywhere by yourself,” Powell said, as he took hold of Karim’s arm. “You’re too young.”
Karim wriggled to be free of Powell’s grip. “I don’t want to go with you.”
Powell could not afford a scene. He almost lifted Karim off his feet as he moved him away from the taxi queue. Once away from prying ears he said, “Look, I can’t force you to get on the aeroplane but let’s go back to Starbucks and discuss the options. Then if you really refuse to go I won’t force you.”
Karim looked dubious. “You promise I don’t have to go if I don’t want to?”
“Yes, I promise. I can hardly carry you on the plane against your will. Let’s go talk about it like two grown men.”
“Okay,” Karim said and started walking back inside the terminal.
There was a look of relief on Jenkins face as they sat back down.
“Let’s have another drink,” Powell suggested. “It will help us to relax and then we can talk.” He looked at Jenkins and gave an imperceptible nod.
Jenkins confirmed everyone’s order and went to the service counter.
“The things is, Karim,” Powell continued. “Your mother has missed you terribly. What your father did was very wrong. He should have discussed where you live with your mother not just run away with you in the night.”
“Isn’t that what you are doing,” Karim interrupted.
“It’s different because your father has been refusing to allow your mother to see you. She was left with no option. She also has a court order, which says you were wrongfully abducted and orders your father to return you to your mother.”
Powell let Karim digest what he had said as Jenkins arrived with the drinks. Powell had suggested the children have a hot chocolate this time, with cream and marshmallows.
Karim focused on devouring his drink as if it avoided the need to respond to Powell.
“Your father has treated your mother very badly,” Powell continued. “I don’t think that you would behave the same way. You are a young man now and if you don’t want to live with your mother anymore, I think you should tell her to her face. It is the least she deserves.”
“That is just a trick,” Karim replied. “If I come to England, I will never be allowed to leave again.”
“Please come to England,” Laila implored. “Mummy will be so sad if you don’t come.”
“I’m feeling very tired,” Karim said. He was struggling to stay awake.
“Rest for a bit,” Powell suggested. “And we’ll talk about it more when you wake up.”
Karim slunk back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Powell didn’t like having asked Jenkins to administer the sleeping pills but there had been no other way. He saw it as a case of the end justifying the means. The dose wouldn’t have any lasting effect and in about eight hours Karim would wake from a deep sleep and they would be landing in Paris. They were flying after midnight and the flight crew shouldn’t be surprised at someone so young being fast asleep when they board the plane.
“Don’t worry,” Powell said to Laila. “Karim is coming to England.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Are you Mr. Smith?” the man asked.
Powell had seen him approach and he was very punctual so there was little doubt about the identity of the man dressed in flowing Arab
robes.
“Yes, I’m Smith. Are you Muhammad?” Powell replied, rising from his seat.
“That name will do. I am afraid I have some bad news. I cannot help you tonight.”
“What do you mean? We need to be on this plane,” Powell stressed. “We’ve already checked in.”
“Be that as it may, I simply cannot help you.”
“Do you want more money? I have more if it is necessary.”
“All the money in the world will not remove the men from the Interior Ministry, who are currently watching like hawks all the regular immigration officers like my brother. They are double checking passports and they seem particularly interested in Europeans travelling with children.” His gaze lingered on Karim and Laila.
“Is there any way we can get on this plane?”
“No. My advice would be to get as far away from here as possible and as quickly as possible. When the airline discovers you have checked in but are not at the departure gate, all hell will break loose. I don’t know what you have done but you have definitely upset someone important with friends in high places. My brother says he has never known scrutiny like this.”
Powell was genuinely at a complete loss what to do. “I have a lot more money if it helps,” he suggested in desperation.
“You are not listening to me, it is not a question of money. Now I must go. If you are still alive in a week and want to try again you know how to contact me.” Muhammad abruptly turned and hurried away.
Powell turned to Jenkins, “Did you get all of that?”
“Enough to know we aren’t flying tonight.”
Powell had just started to believe they were going to get away with their plan and now they were back to square one. The authorities had set a trap, showing no signs of interest in anyone at the airport but strategically placing their men at the one point no one could avoid – passport control. Powell knew they would have easily been identifiable even with the proper passport stamps. The authorities were no fools, they knew it was possible to buy your way out of the country so they had brought in men who couldn’t be bribed.
“We probably still have at least an hour before they come looking for us,” Powell said. “I’ll carry Karim. Let’s take a taxi back to the hotel and collect the Merc.”
“Where are we going to stay?” Jenkins asked. “The hotels aren’t going to be an option after tonight and the kids need to sleep.”
Jenkins was correct in his assertion hotels were off limits. On arrival at any hotel, passports were inspected and photocopied.
“The children can sleep while we take turns driving,” Powell replied. “We need to head for Dammam and see if we can get into Bahrain across the causeway.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jenkins agreed. “Never did like flying, prefer a car journey any day.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Afina awoke and turned over in her bed to try and get back to sleep. She pulled the quilt around her shoulders and tried to ignore the need to have a pee. She glanced at the bedside clock and saw it was three thirty. What an unearthly hour to be awake but she wasn’t going to be able to last until morning. She climbed out of bed and was about to head for the bathroom when she froze. There was a sound coming from downstairs as if someone was moving about. She listened intently and heard the sounds again.
Afina reached for her phone, which she kept beside her bed. She dialled the emergency services.
“Which service do you want?”
“Police, please,” she said quietly.
“One moment.”
Seconds later she heard, “This is the police. How can I help you?”
“I can hear someone moving about downstairs.”
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name and address please?”
Afina gave the information.
“Stay upstairs and try to lock your bedroom door if possible. A car is on its way.”
Afina went to her door and pushed the lock closed, trying not to make any sound. There was no longer any sounds coming from downstairs. Then she realised she might have just been very foolish. What if it was Powell downstairs?
She decided to investigate. She looked around the room for any sign of a weapon. Her eyes fell on the iron. It was solid if not ideal. She unlocked her door and crept to the top of the stairs where she stood listening, trying to decipher the sounds she could hear. There was definitely someone in the bar and she didn’t believe it was Powell.
If whoever it was thought there was money to steal, he would be disappointed. They didn’t leave any money in the bar overnight. It was in the safe in the office. Perhaps it was just a drunk youngster who wanted another drink?
Afina knew with certainty she had locked the doors before going to bed. There was the noise again. Perhaps if she turned on the lights it would cause whoever it was to run away. The best thing was to wait for the police but she didn’t like the idea of someone stealing from Powell or maybe damaging his property. She owed him everything and cowering upstairs was not the way to repay him. The bar was her responsibility while he was away.
She turned on the light switch and the stairs were flooded in light. “Who is there?” she shouted. “I’ve called the police. They will be here in a minute.”
She heard the muffled sounds of voices. There were at least two people she realised and wished she had stayed hidden in her bedroom. She held the iron by the cord so she could swing it as a weapon. Anyone coming up the stairs was going to get a surprise.
“Fuck you,” she heard someone below shout. “Tell Powell we will be coming for him.”
Then there was the sound of feet running away and silence. Despite believing she was alone she decided to wait for the police to arrive. Just five minutes later she heard more people entering the bar.
“This is the police,” someone shouted. “Afina are you up there? This is the police.”
Afina decided it was safe to venture downstairs. When she reached the bar she saw four uniformed police officers. They were all staring at one wall. Daubed in paint in large writing were the words, BEWARE THIS IS NOT A SAFE PLACE TO DRINK!
One of the officers turned towards Afina. “Probably just kids,” he said. “But do you have any idea who else might write this. Have you been having problems with any particular customer?”
“No one I can think of,” she lied. She wasn’t going to tell him the man who had shouted at her to fuck off, had a strong Romanian accent.
She wished Powell would hurry home. She wasn’t just afraid for herself, she was worried for his bar. She didn’t want him returning to a business which had lost all of its customers.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
The taxi dropped them off in front of the hotel. Powell carried Karim to the Mercedes while Jenkins carried Laila, who had fallen asleep in the taxi.
“I think we should put Karim in the boot at least until we are clear of Riyadh,” Powell said. “They are looking for two children and it will give Laila a chance to get some sleep on the back seat.”
Jenkins deposited Laila in the car and then opened the boot. He helped Powell gently lower Karim into the spacious boot. Powell provided his jacket as a makeshift pillow.
“I’ll drive first,” Powell suggested. “You get a couple of hours sleep.”
“Fine by me.”
They had gone about five miles when they both saw the traffic ahead slowing. Jenkins gave an anxious look at Powell. The cars ahead were now down to a crawl.
“Roadblock?” Jenkins asked.
“Could be an accident.”
Two minutes later and they both could see the police cars strung across the road about half a mile ahead.
“What do we do?” Jenkins asked.
“I know what I don’t want to do. I’m not spending time in a Saudi jail!”
“I’m of the same opinion,” Jenkins agreed. “You should be able to barge through the cars but it’s going to get hairy. The kids could end up getting hurt.”
Powell was in two minds about what to do. If they were found with the children they would spend a very long time in a Saudi jail. It would mean a failed operation and Angela Bennett would probably never see her children again. If they tried to break through the police roadblock there was a real possibility the children could get seriously injured. Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place!
“They’re looking for two men with a boy and a girl,” Powell thought out loud. “We need to change the dynamic of our group.”
They were inching slowly forward in the queue of traffic, which was merging into one lane. There were two hundred metres to the checkpoint.
“You need to hitch a lift with someone else,” Powell suggested. “There’s a European in that taxi,” he said, pointing to a nearby car. “Try to stay low so they don’t spot you.”
Powell was very grateful Jenkins wasn’t a man that stood around debating the outcome once he’d been told what to do. He was out of the car and opening the door of the nearby taxi within seconds. Powell had no idea what Jenkins would tell the occupant of the taxi but he was already sharing the back seat with the no doubt very surprised other passenger. The driver would no doubt be very happy with the very large tip Jenkins would provide.
Powell waited just a second to be sure trouble didn’t erupt from the taxi and then woke Laila.
“Laila, I need you to do some play acting. Do you like pretend games?”
“Yes,” she replied, becoming alert at the idea of a game.
“I want you to pretend you have a very nasty pain in your tummy. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course I can. I sometimes play that game when I don’t want to go to school.”
“Okay so just stay in the car and try to look very poorly. And remember your name is Chris.” Powell gave a big grin as she clutched at her tummy and started moaning.
