‘Why since the war? I’d have thought you would have felt more liberated - if you’ll excuse the word-play. ’
Tasneen smiled, but with a polite expression of understanding. ‘When there is no law and order the more extreme people have a louder voice,’ she said. ‘A woman must be more careful not to bring attention to herself.’
They walked up the steps to the Sheraton’s entrance past a pair of smartly dressed security personnel who cheerfully bid him welcome. Tasneen avoided their stares as Mallory opened the glass doors and followed her into the foyer.
The restaurant was on the far side of the cavernous lobby beyond the elevators. A waiter greeted them and led them into the dining room. It was a large well-appointed room that gave the illusion of a level of service and cuisine that the current management could not actually provide. Only a handful of the dozen or so tables were occupied, despite the hotel being almost full. Most of the guests, nearly all westerners, opted for some degree of self-catering even if that meant nothing more than sending their staff out to collect food from local restaurants. The hotel food was expensive and monotonous, room service was abysmal and few guests had the time or inclination to eat in the dimly lit formality of the restaurant. But the hotel was still an acceptable place for Tasneen to dine in public with Mallory. Besides, there was nowhere else in the city that was considered safe for a westerner to openly enjoy a meal. The Green Zone was an option - one of the fast-food stalls outside the PX, maybe - but there was a good chance of meeting people either Tasneen or Mallory knew and Mallory wanted to keep their relationship, such as it was, a private affair.
They chose a table in a corner and the waiter left a couple of menus with them before attending to a group of Arab businessmen across the room.
An awkward atmosphere descended on the pair as they sat opposite one another.
‘Would you choose for me?’ Mallory asked. ‘I’ve eaten here a couple of times but I’ve not been very adventurous . . . don’t know the dishes.’
Tasneen flicked through the menu, studying the offerings. ‘How about some lamb?’ she asked.
‘Sounds great,’ he said. Ever since arriving in Iraq he’d eaten lamb kebabs until they were coming out of his ears and he feared the lack of choice was not limited to the hotel. He had not discovered much variety in Iraqi cuisine but he didn’t know if that was because there really wasn’t any or whether current poor supplies limited the choices.
Tasneen looked for the waiter but he appeared to have left the room. ‘Well,’ she said, sighing. ‘It’s nice to be here. Thank you for inviting me.’
‘I’m glad you could come . . . So. Abdul. How is he?
‘He’s fine.’
‘Good.’
‘You still have a job for him?’
‘Of course.’
She smiled. ‘What is it you want him to do, exactly? He can do anything you need, I’m sure - except drive, of course. Although, knowing him, he will be driving before long.’
‘We don’t need a driver. We do need a translator and someone who knows the city.’
‘That’s perfect,’ Tasneem said. ‘He speaks English better today than he did last week and he knows the city very well.’
‘Tell me something. It might be a small point - I don’t know, and I’m sorry if it’s the wrong thing to ask but - you’ll forgive an ignorant foreigner, but - well, just to clarify. Abdul being Sunni: how would he feel about working with Shi’a? My two drivers are Shi’a, you see.’
‘That’s not a problem for Abdul. Westerners make a big thing out of the differences between Sunni and Shi’a.They mostly get along just fine. Like everything, it’s the work of a handful of fools that makes life impossible for the rest.’
‘I thought as much . . . just wanted to hear your view.’
‘There’s every religion in Baghdad, you know, even some Jews, though not many of them now, I suppose. Christians live alongside Muslims where I live . . . Have you asked your drivers how they feel?’
‘Not yet. I will. I doubt they’ll have a problem.’ And if they do, Mallory thought, he’d find a way of dealing with it. ‘OK. That’s the interview over with,’ he said, sitting back with a grin.
‘That’s it?’
‘He has the job if he wants it.’
‘You didn’t mention the pay.’
‘Ah. Money.Yes.Would six hundred dollars a month be OK - to start with?’
‘Six hundred,’ she repeated, holding on to her surprise. ‘I think he’d be happy with that.’
‘He would be on probation at first. We have to consider the team.’
‘Of course.You will be pleased with him, I’m very sure of that.’
The waiter arrived and asked Mallory in Arabic for their order. Mallory referred him to Tasneen who rattled off a reply and the waiter left them.
‘I’m very happy, Bernie.’ She was beaming. ‘When do you want him to start?’ This was something to which Mallory had not given much thought, indicating how little he had considered Abdul in this whole affair. ‘When will he be fit for work?’
‘He would like to start right away. He’s well enough.’
Mallory nodded, his expression blank, and Tasneen suspected he was unconvinced. ‘The pain has practically gone from his hand. He hardly ever takes a painkiller now. He needs to get out and do something. This job will be perfect for him and he will work very hard to please you. It will help heal his mind as well as his body.’
‘OK. I’m sold,’ Mallory said. ‘Why don’t you send him over tomorrow morning and we’ll have a talk. He can meet the others and we’ll take it from there.’
‘That sounds perfect.’ She leaned forward, despite no one else being close enough to hear. For one moment Mallory thought she wanted to kiss him and leaned forward himself. ‘You are very kind, Bernie.’
‘You make it easy for me,’ he said, after she stopped what might as well have been a million miles short of kissing him. She did, however, hold his gaze for a few seconds and Mallory began to believe that Tasneen actually reciprocated the feelings he had for her. He had a sudden urge to say something to that effect but stopped himself, worried that it might ruin the moment. But even if he had shouted undying love for her at the top of his voice she would not have heard a word of it. Not at that moment . . .
A massive explosion blew in all the floor-to-ceiling plate-glass windows that made up two sides of the restaurant and the vast hotel building rocked to its very foundations.Walls and ceilings cracked, lights and cornices fell as the stark sounds of crashing and smashing took over from the initial thunderous boom. Mallory was blown off his seat and as he lay on the marble floor his brain fought to grasp what had happened. It felt as if he had been struck by a wall, dust filling his eyes and nostrils as he struggled to get his mind to refocus.
The thought of Tasneen came into Mallory’s head like a detonation and he scrambled to his knees. She was not in her chair and he ducked beneath the table to see her pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. He got to his feet, hurried around the table, grabbed her up and pulled her over to one of several robust pillars supporting the ceiling. His first fear was of structural collapse but as the seconds passed and the building stayed up his next concern was another blast. The hotel had been attacked by rockets or mortars three times since his arrival although none of the previous assaults had been as bad as this.
Tasneen was slightly concussed and did not resist Mallory’s protective grasp, although even had she wanted to she would have been unable since he was holding her so tightly to him.The waiter was standing in the centre of the room as if catatonic, his face bloody, his mouth agape as he looked up at the ceiling. Mallory followed his gaze to see the elaborate central chandelier swaying dangerously. A couple who had been at a table by the windows were on the floor, both of them covered in blood and glass. Mallory thought the explosion was down to a car bomb in the street or a mortar, or a walking suicide bomber just outside the restaurant. There had been rumours for weeks now tha
t a member of staff had smuggled explosives into the hotel, a small amount at a time. But in a city that experienced dozens of explosions a day and where rumours of all kinds abounded the general feeling that one could get caught out anywhere at any time tended to offset such threats. It was all up to God and westerners used the word ‘inshalla’ as much as did the Arabs.
There was a sudden loud whooshing sound as if an aircraft had flown past outside and Mallory held Tasneen even tighter against the pillar. A second later there was a loud boom that sounded close but not close enough to do the hotel any more damage. Mallory decided that it had been a rocket since mortars tended to drop silently or with a whistling sound and, just as he said this loud enough for Tasneen to hear, yet another rocket slammed into the hotel with a force equal to that of the first. A shock wave followed, blasting in through the gap where the window had been and spending its great force against the opposite wall in the restaurant. A wooden dresser was tossed aside, its china contents shattering. Tables blew over and something struck Mallory’s back but without harming him. He pulled Tasneen’s head against his chest and she held on to him tightly as something heavy struck the floor close by. As the shock wave dissipated the sound of automatic gunfire could be heard over the noise of breaking glass and falling debris.
Mallory’s eyes widened as he looked up, his ears straining to gather vital information.Another long burst followed by an answering volley of single shots, indicating that a firefight was taking place. When it came to explosions the best thing to do was get to cover and wait it out. But flying bullets required a different reaction. Another circulating rumour concerned the threat of an assault from the Mardi Army, a Shi’a militia occupying Sada City barely a mile west of the hotel complex. It was generally considered suicide to attempt, bearing in mind the amount of western firepower in and around the hotel but on reflection a suicide attack could not be overlooked. There were thirty or forty US troops stationed in the Sheraton and Palestine hotels plus a hundred or so western PSDs. If the Mardi Army attacked with all its estimated eight-hundred-strong force it would find it costly to take even a section of the grounds and would then find it impossible to hold on to for long. But the rebels were not to be underestimated : they had attacked hotels and coalition camps in the past, beginning the assaults with various explosive devices such as mortars before pressing the attack with infantry. They had failed to penetrate even the perimeters in every case but that had not appeared to deter them.
Mallory pulled his pistol from his pouch as the rattle of gunfire intensified as more weapons joined the fray. He ignored the moaning injured around him and held Tasneen at his side as he headed towards the restaurant entrance. They passed through the small opening into the lobby where gunfire echoed inside the cavernous hall and, their feet crunching on broken glass, kept close to the walls, avoiding the central area that was exposed to debris falling from the domed ceiling. A couple of hotel staff ran across the lobby shouting something and several US soldiers clutching M4 rifles hurried down the curving stairs from the mezzanine above towards the entrance while pulling on their flak jackets and helmets. One of them tripped and sprawled across the marble floor but a colleague quickly dragged him to his feet and they sprinted on outside together. Broken glass was everywhere, lying on the white marble floor like crystals. A fine dust filled the air along with flakes of black and grey ash from a fire somewhere. Most of the massive sheets of plate glass forming the exterior walls of the lobby had shattered. Mallory was heading for an emergency exit that led to the basement, which he had decided was their best choice. Had he been alone he would have looked for a way to join the fight but Tasneen was his greatest concern now.
The main source of the gunfire seemed to be near the Firdous Mosque on the other side of the roundabout below his room. A loud burst from a heavy machine gun came from a floor above and Mallory suspected that it was return fire from the US troops who had a firing position on the sixth floor.
Mallory suddenly wondered if the basement was such a good choice after all. If an assault managed to penetrate the lobby he could get cornered down there. On the other hand, if he went above ground level it could prove disastrous if there was a fire. But he was going to have to make a choice.
Des ran in through the main entrance, holding an AK47 and wearing his chest harness of multiple pouches containing spare magazines and a couple of grenades. Only a trusted few knew about the grenades as they were shunned by the US military.
‘Des!’ Mallory called out.
Des glanced in Mallory’s direction and changed course towards him. ‘Ee, this is fun, ain’t it, lad?’ He skidded to a halt beside them. ‘You all right, flower?’ His eyes were moving faster and bulging even more than usual.
‘Any idea what’s going on?’
‘It’s a battle, me lad,’ Des said, grinning with his usual flippancy.
‘I gathered that. Is it an assault on the hotel?’
Nah. Doubt it. They’re not that stupid. Doing a bit of rescuing, are we?’ Des eyed Tasneen with a grin. ‘Any left?’
A loud burst of gunfire from above startled all of them.
‘Des. What’s going on?’ Mallory asked trying to be patient.
‘Rockets, me old sausage. Little bastards drove a truck alongside t’ mosque and fired a bonch o’ the boogers. One ’it the first floor, the other somewhere near it. Another went into the park just over the blast walls. A palm tree caught fire out front but there might be another burner on t’ first floor.’
‘So who’s firing at who?’
‘Don’t know. Could be comin’ from the block o’ flats opposite. US lads on t’ sixth-floor roof opened op on the launch platform and it sounds like some was returned. I wouldn’t go out there, though. Yanks are shooting at anything that moves. I’m gonna go check on my clients, make sure none ’ave wet ’emsels. See you later. Nice to meet yer,’ Des called out to Tasneen, grinning widely, before he hurried away.
Mallory checked Tasneen who was still frightened but was staying in control of her emotions. ‘You OK?’ he asked, making sure.
She nodded. ‘I’m OK. What are we doing?’ Good question, Mallory felt like saying. ‘We can’t hang about here or go outside. Only one place, really. Come on,’ he said, taking her by the hand.
He led her past the lifts, up the broad stairs to the mezzanine and into the emergency stairwell.The main lights had failed but the emergency lighting was just about adequate, although not on every floor.The gunfire outside sounded amplified in the bare, concrete, windowless stairwell as they trotted up. By the time they reached the fifth floor both of them were breathing heavily. Tasneen paused to catch her breath while Mallory went through the first fire door and along the corridor to the next that led onto the landing. The smoke was immediately thicker and he went to the rail to look down into the lobby. Hotel staff members were hurriedly attempting to organise a fire hose, although Mallory could not see where the fire was.
‘Come on,’ Mallory called. Tasneen responded and they moved off along the landing. He paused outside his room to dig the key out of his pocket and check below once again. The fire team had managed to divide into two groups, one at either end of the hose as they dragged it across the lobby. But on reaching the fountain the groups moved either side of it and an argument began over which one should take the lead. Mallory shook his head as he found the key and opened his door.
Tasneen followed him inside. He closed the door and went directly to the balcony windows, pausing before opening them. ‘Stay back,’ he warned.
Tasneen stayed in the narrow hallway. ‘Should you go out there?’ she asked as Mallory slid open the glass door.
‘I’ll only be a second.’ He inched carefully through the gap, keeping low.The firing had stopped and there was shouting from the street below. He leaned forward until the mosque came into view. Men were running, a pick-up truck parked at an awkward angle across the road was on fire, its doors open, and beyond it were two cars that had been hastily abandoned.A
body lay on the road between them. American soldiers came into view, moving stealthily across the roundabout towards the mosque. Others were inspecting more bodies further up the street. Smoke was drifting directly across the front of Mallory’s balcony and he looked over the rail to see the top of one of the hotel’s palm trees on fire and more smoke coming from inside the hotel directly behind it. Mallory assumed it was the impact point of one of the rockets.
He stepped back into the room. ‘It’s OK. I think it’s over.’
Tasneen did not appear relieved by the news.
‘I need to check on my people,’ Mallory said, heading for the door. ‘Stay until I get back and then we’ll get you out of here, OK?’
She nodded.
‘You sure you’re all right?’ he asked.
‘I will be,’ she said, forcing a smile with difficulty.
‘There’s a fire downstairs. I think it’s only a small one. If it gets any worse I’ll be straight back.’
Tasneen nodded again.
‘See you in a bit, then,’ Mallory said as he opened the door.
‘Oh, Bernie,’ she whispered. ‘My handbag.’
‘I’ll find it,’ he said before closing the door behind him.
A few metres along the landing he knocked on a door. ‘Stanza?’ he called out. ‘Stanza!’
A moment later the door was hurriedly unlocked and opened. Stanza stood in the doorway, looking visibly worried.
‘You OK?’
‘Yes. What’s happened? Are we being attacked? Is there a fire?’ Stanza didn’t wait for a reply and limped back to his open balcony. ‘There’s a lot of activity outside.’
‘I’d be careful about showing yourself. There’ll be some itchy trigger fingers out there.’
Stanza ducked back and then decided to vacate the balcony entirely and close the door.
‘As far as I can tell it’s all over,’ Mallory said. ‘There might be a fire risk. I’d have your things packed and ready to go, just in case.’
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