The Last of the Angels (29 page)

The men, together with the five prisoners, traversed the Khasa Su over small pebbles partially buried in sand and waded through shallow water from time to time, without exchanging a single word. The Englishwoman stumbled more than once because of her high-heeled shoes, which skidded on the pebbles and sank into the sand. She pulled them out with a nervous wriggle of her feet. Then she bent over and picked up both shoes. Hameed Nylon smiled in the starlight and told her affectionately in English, “That's better. Now you can enjoy this outing.” The night breezes that stung their faces and carried with it the scent of the countryside had dissipated all the influence of whiskey in the heads of the prisoners, who noticed, apparently for the first time, that they had been kidnapped. They stopped walking and shook their heads, making sounds that were muffled because of the rags bound around their mouths. The villagers shoved them with the butts of their rifles, but Hameed Nylon told them comfortingly, “Don't worry. No one will harm you. We'll treat you like guests. You'll see that we are more humane than you think.”

Then he stepped forward and untied the knot in the cloth placed over the Englishwoman's mouth, asking her, “How are you, Mrs. McNeely?”

The woman shook her head in disgust but said coquettishly, “Oh, thank you Mr. Hameed.” Then she asked him gently, “What do you want to do with us?”

Hameed answered reassuringly in his own special way, “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” He added conceitedly but with a light sarcasm that was hard to detect, “In my capacity as commander of the revolutionary army, I have the honor to inform you that you are now my guests.”

Addressing her words to her husband, who was walking behind her with his mouth lightly gagged, Helen McNeely said, “George, did you hear? Our friend Mr. Hameed has become the leader of a revolution.”

Silence reigned again in the darkness that revealed less and less of the city, which was sinking into the night's abyss like a legendary specter whose pulsations, which blended with boundless nature, were wafted along by the wind. They crossed the Khasa Su at the far side of the city, moving from it to fields that were fragrant with the scent of grass and earth. This daring operation led by Hameed Nylon caused the city's authorities to lose their nerve and to swear to take revenge, after the prime minister contacted and cursed them in language that was anything but polite, threatening to cut off their heads if the kidnapped Englishmen did not return unharmed. At noon ten armored Jeeps crammed full of policemen shouldering rifles set forth, heading toward the village of Tawuq, which the government held responsible for this attack.

The police chief, who led this operation, knew that there was no hope of discovering the kidnapped Englishmen because these villagers would not open their mouths no matter what the consequences. He would be forced, all the same, to demonstrate the government's brutality and strength first, before negotiating with these simpletons, who—he was sure—knew exactly what had happened. The force surrounded the village and then entered it, encountering no resistance. Many people even stayed huddled in their homes as though the affair was none of their business. This unjustifiable nonchalance caused the policemen to fly off the handle. Thus they burst into the houses that did not even have the doors latched and forced all the men and women out onto the dirt road that ran through the village, amid the barking of the dogs that gathered in a circle around all the people. The policemen waved their rifles in the faces of the villagers, who calmly continued smoking. When they grew tired of standing, some of them squatted down on the ground. Finally the police chief drew his revolver and fired into the air, causing the dogs to retreat in alarm. “We have come to inform you that the government has decided to kill all of you after you kidnapped the five Englishmen. But I will overlook everything if you return them to us. You've already created enough problems for us.”

Silence reigned for a time until an old man, who was clearly the village's headman, stepped forward. “May God preserve the King for us. I believe that the King would not order us killed. We are poor villagers and have nothing to do with the English, may God curse them. We are Muslims and follow the way of God and His Messenger.”

The police chief, who was trying very hard to restrain his rage, replied, “I'm talking about the Englishmen you kidnapped last night. All I want is the truth. Show me where they are and I'll pardon you.”

The headman shook his head apologetically, “This is a matter I'm hearing about for the first time. What need do we have of Englishmen that would lead us to kidnap them? Our village needs an imam to watch over it, not damned English infidels.” The man stopped for a moment and looked the police chief in the eye. “Perhaps the revolutionaries did that. But the village has no tie to the matter. You must know the places where they are hiding.” Then he waved his hand beyond the village. “They are there in the mountains. That's all we know.”

No sooner had the headman stopped talking than the village's children began singing their beloved anthem, which they had learned at school:

The police chief was forced to order his men to lower their rifles. Then he said, addressing the villagers, who continued to stare at him, “You can go now. It would be better for us to negotiate with the village's headman and elders than to listen to anthems.”

He went with the headman and three other villagers to a hut that served as the village's coffeehouse. The policemen surrounded them, and the rest of the villagers followed, squatting on the ground to listen to the discussion. The police chief, however, ordered his men to shoo them away because he did not want anyone to know what might transpire in this meeting. Participating in it were the police lieutenant and two deputy lieutenants who commanded this force of more than fifty policemen.

The police chief knew that the only way to free the English prisoners was through a deal with the village men. He was certain that they would be able to assist him, but did not want to show all his cards at once. “I don't want your village to be harmed. What the rebels did last night was outrageous.”

The headman asked, “I don't know why the young men do such stupid things. What's to be gained from acts like these?”

The police chief was forced to say, “Good, I'll assign you the task of getting the prisoners back before sunset. You're the village's headman and the person responsible in the state's eyes for everything that happens in your village.”

The headman suddenly burst out laughing. “What are you saying, man? Is someone who opposes the government going to listen to what a poor headman like me says? Imagine that, Mr. Police Chief. Imagine that.” The lieutenant intervened, “Headman, we know everything. We're not blind, contrary to what you think.”

Then the police chief said, “What you say may be true, but you can assist us by contacting the rebels so an understanding can be reached with them to release the prisoners.”

The headman gazed at him for a time before replying, “That might perhaps be possible. I'll do everything I can. What do you want to say to the rebels?”

Without beating around the bush, the police chief answered, “To send someone with whom we can negotiate so we can learn their terms.”

The police chief could not abide the flies that kept stinging and droning in the hot air, so he stood up, saying, “I'll wait inside my car. The heat here is killing me.” He left, heading for the Jeeps that were parked at the center of the village. His men surrounded him, brandishing their rifles once more, for no apparent reason.

The police chief had expected to meet some revolutionary before evening but waited for three days before achieving that. News of the police attack on the village of Tawuq reached Hameed Nylon that same day, but he saw no reason to hasten to respond to the police chief's request because he knew the police would be unable to do anything to harm the village. The police chief's only option would be to wait.

As a matter of fact, Hameed Nylon, who had never savored the taste of true love in his life, suddenly found himself a prisoner of the emotions unleashed in his body by Mrs. Helen McNeely, when she gave herself to him even before he asked. “What a fool I was, Hameed, to toss you out!” she said, adding, “I know you risked your life to get me. Tell me that you organized this revolution of yours for my sake.” Hameed Nylon burst out laughing because this was the last thing that anyone could say about his revolution. He pounded her on the back jokingly and said, “When I'm with you I feel the revolution conquering my body. Where do you get all this fire?”

Helen McNeely stayed in the command post, which was Hameed Nylon's room, refusing to be reunited with her husband and the three other prisoners, who were detained in a cave at the foot of the mountain. From the moment she arrived at the base camp, which was located in a forest between two mountains, she had told Hameed Nylon in front of the others, “I want to be with you. I think you won't refuse the request of a lady like me.” It seemed to her that she was in a deadly dream and she did not want to wake up. Hameed Nylon, however, realized that this enjoyment of his would be short-lived and that he would eventually need to release his prisoners.

The conditions that Hameed Nylon laid down were straightforward and allowed no room for confusion. He presented them in a list to the police chief, who in turn passed them on to the governor, who for his part dictated them over the telephone to the minister of the interior's special aide-de-camp. These conditions caused the cabinet officers, when they learned about them, to choke with laughter. The prime minister commented on Hameed Nylon's characterization of the government as one of occupiers and thieves by saying, “The man seems to know all about us.” Hameed Nylon had requested the government's resignation, the formation of another government of patriots, and recognition of the People's Republic of China. During the negotiations that lasted three days, however, he settled for the conditions proposed by the government. These were to grant him the rank of a real lieutenant colonel in the army and to appoint his rebel villagers as guards for the villages surrounding the city of Kirkuk. Indeed, the government had gone so far as to offer to recognize the village of Tawuq's right to priority when visiting the mausoleum of Qara Qul.

The government's concessions caused the villagers to swagger proudly and fire into the air. Hameed Nylon considered this a first step on the journey of a thousand miles toward the state of his dreams. People from every nook and cranny marched toward the village of Tawuq, which celebrated this victory while waiting for the arrival of the captives and the army commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Anwar Mustafa. Hameed Nylon entered the village like an emperor of some other era, seated on a litter borne by the prisoners, who had insisted on that themselves in order to expiate the sins they had committed against the rights of the Iraqis, their false boasting, and their racist arrogance. Helen McNeely, for her part, danced before the litter, inspiring delirium in the men's hearts and arousing the curiosity of the women and children. Joy overwhelmed everyone, and the police chief himself got out of his vehicle and embraced Hameed Nylon with such fraternal affection that it brought tears to his eyes. Then these two men participated in a dabke line dance performed by men of the village of Tawuq in honor of the English captives, who were deeply touched as they departed in the special vehicles the English consulate in Kirkuk had sent to the village to transport them back to their homes. Helen McNeely clung to Hameed Nylon's neck, planting a hot kiss on his lips and whispering, “I'll return to you again.” Hameed Nylon felt sad as he watched the motorcade slowly move off into the distance over the horizon, which fell away at the end of the plain that spread out like a colored carpet. All the same, he was joyful because this was the first victory he had scored since the revolution began.

Three weeks later, on a midsummer day, Hameed Nylon entered the city of Kirkuk in command of a force comprised of more than twenty of his village fighters, who were armed with rifles carried on their shoulders and daggers thrust into their belts. They were received as legendary heroes, and masses of humanity swarmed out of the narrow alleys and ancient neighborhoods, and even from goat-hair tents that nomadic Bedouins had erected at the edges of the city, to see the man whom the Kurds reckoned a Kurd, the Arabs an Arab, and the Turkmen a Turkmen, relying in this on indisputable historical data. The governor, the police chief, and the director of public security went out to welcome Hameed Nylon, who had allowed his beard to grow long and who was wearing a khaki field uniform and a red beret tilted to the left. Together they toured the city's streets, which were filled with people, amid flags and banners held by veiled young men. Then they took him to the Government Officials' Club, where a long banquet table had been set up in his honor in the open air. Hameed Nylon more than once went out to the street to greet the human throngs that had gathered in front of the club and that had begun to shout his name. When the crowd kept insisting on standing in front of the club for no apparent reason, he climbed atop the club's wall and made a brief speech in which he demonstrated his capacity for modesty and his flexibility in leading the revolution, which was still in its initial phase. Thus he announced that he was but an obedient servant of His Majesty King Faisal II, may God preserve him, and that he wanted nothing more than to elevate the name of Iraq among the civilized nations. The governor and the other important city figures standing near him at the gate of the club applauded these sagacious words that Hameed Nylon delivered to quiet the ardor of the people, who lingered on there for some time before bowing out and departing.