Captive- Veiled Desires (20 page)

“I wish there was.” Adam swiped his hand over his face. “But Jahandar won’t see it any other way.”

“You want to kill Hazrat?” Hayat asked.

“No, just roughen him up a bit and remind him who it is that run these lands. We’ve been more than just patient with him and his father these past months. But it seems they’re seeing our generosity as cowardice. If we let this go on, we’d be losing more than just opium. There will be no Darul-Ilhaam.”

“I trust you,
lala
,” Tahir spoke up.

Adam nodded.  Tahir was a quiet man who rarely challenged authority. He had a lot to lose if he went on this mission. He had a wife and daughters of marriageable age. 

He glanced about at the rest of the men. And so did all of them. But if there was anyone he could entrust his life to, it was these four men.  And he swore he would bring them back to their families alive as well.

HAPTER
16

Jake leaned against a pole sipping his steaming cup of coffee, his baseball cap pulled down to his face. His phone buzzed and he guessed it had to be Amy.

“Hey,” he whispered into it.

“Do you see him?” she asked.

He glanced back up at the post box across him. “Not yet. But he will be here. In the meanwhile, you need to calm down. You’re gonna blow my cover.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.”

“I know you are, honey. But this staking out someone usually means patience.”

“Ok,” she muttered. “But you will let me know as soon as something happens?”

“I swear.”

She terminated the call and he put the phone back into his pocket. He could understand how she was feeling. But Nora was his close friend also and he wanted to find her just as much as Amy did.

He pulled in a deep breath, thankful that Amy hadn’t been her usual stubborn self and fought over his decision about her keeping an eye out on the box from the car. She was safer there.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched the tall balding man in a beige trench coat and round spectacles approach the box. Jake straightened up and began walking swiftly towards him. The man opened the box and pulled out the envelope Amy had dropped in only a while ago. He slapped it against the palm of his hand and smirked.

“Travis Mulholland?” Jake spoke up from behind him.

The man jumped, swirling quickly to face him. “Who are you?”

“Are you Travis Mulholland?” Jake asked again.

The man glanced about him nervously. “No. You have me mistaken for someone else.”

“You’re carrying an envelope my girlfriend had addressed to him,” Jake said, lifting his brow. “You didn’t just rob a post box, did you? Because that is a crime.” He pulled out his phone and pretended to dial for the cops.

“Ok, stop,” the man said hurriedly. “We don’t need to do that.”

“And why not?”

“Let’s talk. Just not here.”

Nora curled by her window again. Adam hadn’t returned. He had left without saying goodbye, without telling her what he was going to do.

Her body shivered from a gust of cold wind blowing through her window, and she reluctantly got up to close it. It was perhaps not just the wind sending chills up her body. What if her husband was a terrorist? Could she still care about him like she had begun to?

Her eyes blurred. She probably never could look at him the same way again. He would be a murderer of innocent lives. She could never give her heart to someone like him.

She sighed and stared up at the sky, trying to rationalize why a man like Adam was doing in a bandit and barbarous land such as this. He definitely was educated and refined in his tastes. Books grazed his shelves ranging from Plato to Aristotle to Karl Marx and Hermann Hesse. His preference in music was just as eclectic. She had been surprised when she discovered albums by Bach and Tchaikovsky standing amongst those of Bob Dylan and Norah Jones.

She covered her face with her palms. Who was her husband?  He cared for the people around him and she knew they loved him back just as much. He was empathetic and kind and merciful. Why then did he pretend to be the ruthless brute he was not?

Her head began to spin from the bafflement and frustration he was putting her through. She hung her head low and massaged her throbbing temples. Her mind drifted to the escape he had planned for her. The car in the garage… She nipped at her lips. Should she take her chance and make that escape now? Her heart hammered heavily inside her as she thought about Adam. Was he safe? He had to come back. He must.

A knock rapped on her door and then opened slightly.

“Nora
khor
?” Husna said.

“I’m here, Husna,” she muttered almost inaudibly.

The woman smiled. “I bring you something.” She revealed a bowl of greenish paste. “We make your hands pretty for when Adam
lala
comes home.”

Nora glanced at the bowl. Henna. How could she think about decorating her hands when she didn’t even know if Adam was coming back?

Husna began lightly beating the paste again. “You sit here,
khor
and I put on your fingers.”

“I’m not in the mood, Husna. Maybe, we could do this another day.”

The woman sighed. “You worry about
lala
? You not worry.
Inshallah
, he be safe. He come back ok.”

“How can you say that? How can you be sure?”

“Because Adam
lala
is not like men in our country. He be different. And he always come back. Everybody here trust him. He very smart.”

She didn’t know when the woman had sat down comfortably beside her and began dabbing the tips of her fingers with the paste.

“What do you mean different?” she asked, noticing that Husna had spoken openly about her beloved leader for the first time.

The woman shrugged. “He know too many things. He got education, not like us. Many peoples think he…” She grew quiet.

“He what?” Nora tried to prompt her.

“Like savior. He come back from America to help us.” Husna sighed again. “We have too much troubles. Every man womans you talk, they tell you problems. Many of us here, we not be alive if not because of Adam
lala
.”

“That is why you never escaped from here,” Nora said quietly.

Husna smiled again. “You have to be captured first so you can escape,
khor
. No one here captured.”

No one? Nora glanced down sadly at the paste on her hands. There was a car in the garage with an escape route mapped out for her in its glove box. Why hadn’t she moved from her chair then? Why wasn’t she taking her chance to get out of there?

They leaned heavily against the concrete wall, their ears strained on the festive music drifting from the window of the house and towards them.

“How many down the staircase, Tahir?” Adam whispered.

“Two.”

He nodded. He crooked his neck and peeked over the wall at an open window on the top floor. He would have to scale up the building in order to get through that.

“Basel and Tahir, take the guards below,” he instructed. “Do it as quietly as you can. Hayat, wait for my signal and then make your way up the stairs with Basel and Tahir.”

The men nodded and sprinted lightly towards the front door. Adam gave them a quick glance and leaped over the fence as softly as he could. He gauged the height of the window and pulled in a deep breath before scaling up the side of the building.

A few minutes late, he heard a thump from below. He waited for any shouts of warning to the rest of Zawahiri’s men. But when everything remained as still and quiet as ever, he had to be sure that Basel and Tahir had knocked down those guards successfully. He let out a relieving breath and pulled himself over the window sill and into the dark bedroom. He picked up a bottle of baby powder and threw it out the window, landing softly on the padded grass next to Hayat’s feet.

He then pulled out his gun and treaded towards the door. Their loud cheery voices and music echoed into the room. There were thirteen guards inside who were protecting Hazrat Zawahiri’s three guests. He knew because he had been watching this house with painstaking agony since dawn. The house belonged to Zawahiri’s mistress, but he had silently thanked his stars when he discovered Zawahiri preferred to return to his own each night. This made things so much easier.

He checked for the time. He had a minute left. He creaked open the door slightly, trying to assess their precise location. He held in the action release button of his semi-automatic shotgun and pumped the slide backwards and forwards. He closed his eyes and counted to five. Gritting his teeth, he stormed into the room, firing at the men. Basel, Tahir and Hayat burst into the room on his cue, raining bullets on the other men. Women screamed, ducking and tripping as they tried to escape the sudden incursion.

In ten minutes, it was all over. Blood was splattered over the walls and floor, bodies were strewn about them and the air still reeked from the stench of burnt ammunition.

Adam gave a quick glance to check on his comrades. They were standing, tired and huffing from the rush of adrenaline in their bodies. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and then strolled over to turn the music off.

Basel, meanwhile, stepped into Hazrat Zawahiri’s way, impeding the panicked man from making his escape.

“What do you want?” Hazrat croaked harshly.

“You’ve been busy,” Adam spoke up. “Both you and your father. And it’s costing us our business.”

“You know, my father won’t forgive you so easily for this,” Hazrat minced between his teeth.

“Good.” Adam scratched his brow. “Because then I would really have a good reason to kill him without feeling too bad about it.” He knelt down on one knee and looked threateningly into the man’s eyes. “Just because we haven’t reacted to your little scheming ways with our crop, doesn’t mean that’s how it will stay, Hazrat. I’m giving you and your father an opportunity to correct your errors and I hope you will take it for your own sake.”

“I… I’m not scared of you,” Hazrat shivered on the floor beneath Adam’s gaze.

Adam smiled. “I admire your so-called spunk.” He let out a little chuckle and gave a quick glance to his companions, who were smiling cheekily along with him. “You know, Hazrat… what sets apart your father from me is… I fight my own battles.” He dropped his voice again, his menace ringing in his tone. “You should be scared.”