Mr. Manning's Consumation Ch. 03

Laila woke with the sunlight beaming through a crack in the blinds onto her face. She looked to the nightstand and saw the steaming cup of tea next to the bowl of yogurt. No one had done that for her since she was twelve when she was sick with the flu. She was embarrassed at how good it made her feel to have someone serve her for a change. Usually she was busy taking care of her two younger sisters and brother while her older sisters were busy looking after themselves.

After finishing her breakfast she took the bowl into the kitchen where she found Alec tuning the radio. The sink was filled with water where he had cleaned his dishes yet again. She dropped her bowl into the soapy water and continued sipping her tea.

Alec looked up, watching her watching him with an odd look on her face. Was she admiring him? For a few moments he stared back, trying to figure out why she looked so pleased, was the tea really that good?

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

He shrugged and motioned to the sink. "Beat you to it again."

"You don't have to keep doing that" she answered.

"I was up early and needed to do something."

"Is there anything interesting on the radio?"

"I almost had something. I've been tweaking the antennae to get better reception."

"Was it in English?"

"Yeah, it was a news program. They said something about a town with a bunch of rebels in it was about to get smacked big time."

"Really? Where?"

"I think they said Fallujah or something like that. I'm still trying to get the signal back.

Laila's eyes widened and she felt slightly nauseous. "What?!"

"I said I'm still trying to get the signal back. These concrete walls aren't helping at all."

"No! I mean. . . what. . . where did they say the Army was attacking??"

"Fallujah I think. Why? You got relatives there?"

Laila shook her head. "No, we're in Fallujah."

Alec's eyes widened and he felt the bottom of his stomach drop. "What?"

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Baber didn't know why he had to sit in between Aazim and Jasim. He could have driven better than Aarif and he told Aazim as much but he wouldn't listen. Baber worried that if there was any trouble he'd be the last one out of the car but every time he expressed his concerns Aazim told him not to worry. All he could do was sit and listen to the boy question Aarif. The boy clearly mistook Aarif's cold-blooded demeanor for courage and wanted to emulate him.

"My brother said he's already killed an American soldier in Baghdad last summer. He sneaked up on him in a crowd and shot him in the back of the head."

Aarif nodded. "Your brother is a very brave man Ilam."

"Yes, but he died in the fall when the Americans raided a neighborhood where he and other fighters were hiding. I plan to use one of the RPG's in the trunk to bring down an American helicopter or destroy a tank."

"Very commendable, you have the makings of a great patriot" Aazim responded.

"Yes, very much so" Aarif added. "But do you know what the real measure of a fighter is?"

"What" Ilam asked.

"It is to kill a soldier face to face while looking into his eyes."

"You have done this?" the boy asked reverently.

Aarif nodded. "I've done this several times. The first one was a little difficult but it got much easier the more I did it."

"What kind of gun did you use?"

Aarif shook his head. "I used a knife. It's quiet, and if done correctly the victim cannot even resist."

"But how could the victim not resist?"

Aarif stooped the care at the intersection and put it in park. The boy watched as Aarif pulled his picket knife out and unfolded its smooth three inch blade. "You see Ilam, the knife can be hidden far easier than a gun so even the cautious man wouldn't see it, especially in a crowd."

Ilam nodded and listened, transfixed on Aarif's instruction.

"Can you tell him all this later?" Baber interrupted.

Aarif turned around to Baber, "This will only take a second more."

In one single, fluid motion Aarif sliced the boy's right jugular splashing blood into the backseat squarely on Baber who hit his head on the car's roof as he leapt out of his seat in shock. As the boy grasped his throat, Aarif stopped the car and Aazim jumped and quickly opened the front passenger's side, yanking Ilam out before he bled all over the passenger's seat.

Ilam tried to cover his wound and stand up. But the blood gushed through his fingers and within seconds he was too weak to stand, then too weak to move, then too weak to even breathe.

Aazim examined the front seat. While there was a small amount of blood it could easily be explained, considering the number of explosions and shootouts there have been in the last six months. He turned to the backseat where Baber was attempting to maintain his composure.

"So, do you still want to sit up front?"

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"Are you sure you don't have a hair pin or some kind of wire?" Alec asked as he reached for the padlock.

"Do you know how to pick the lock?" she asked while searching the kitchen.

"Well . . . not exactly. But we've got to try something."

"During the invasion everyone was advised to stay in their homes" Laila said.

"Yeah but I'd like an escape route just in case."

She ran to the bedroom and brought back a wire hanger. "Will this work?"

Alec uncoiled the hanger and tried making an improvised lock pick, only to find the wire was too thick to hit into the slot.

"Aw fuck! This can't be happening! Goddamn military's been taking it up the ass for eight months an now they decide to do some damage?!"

"Watch your language. This is no time to panic" Laila said quietly.

"Oh! I think this is the perfect time for fucking swearing!! I mean, really! Can you think of a better time??"

"When American tanks start firing on the house, then you can swear" she countered as she put the tea pot on the burner. He walked to the kitchen as she fixed herself another cup of tea, astonished at her composure. "How the hell can you stay so calm?" I mean how . . . how can you deal with this?"

"Because I figure your soldiers probably won't even hit us."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. But what if they do?"

"They probably won't."

"How do you know? Have you ever been through a situation where chaos and destruction could come crashing down around you at any minute?"

Laila thought back to her childhood during the war with Iran and how a stray missile crashed near their home and blew out the windows. Then she remembered during the first war with America and how one of their cruise missiles flew over their family's car when they were driving to a bunker for safety. "One moment, I have to think about that."

Alec thought for a moment and realized how ignorant he sounded. "Sorry. That was a dumb thing to say."

"It's alright. You weren't thinking."

"How do you—did you—live with it?"

"After thinking about it for a long time I suppose I realized it was the not knowing that frightened me. Once I had accepted that I couldn't know, I could have faith in my ability to survive whatever happened."

Alec thought about what she said for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense I guess."

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes I do thanks." Then, without thinking, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

For a moment he just stared at her, realizing what he'd done. She'd just got out of bed, yet she was more attractive now than two nights ago in her wedding gown. Her black hair fell randomly around her face and shoulders, contrasting with her white nightgown which draped around her breasts. The more he looked at her in silence, the more his entire body screamed to take her right there in the kitchen, consequences be damned.

Instead he stuck his hands in his pockets again. "God, I must really reek, is it okay if I wash up?"

Laila's smile faded slightly, and she turned to the stove. "Yes, of course. The shower doesn't work though.

"Yeah, I figured that. I'll just use the bucket under the sink."

She nodded. "There is a pot in the cub bard; I'll heat some water for you."

"Thanks" he answered. "Wait a minute, why don't you go first? I can help you out---I mean with carrying water, not with the bathing or anything. I don't think they allow that."

"Actually, there's a custom where the husband washes the bride's feet before bringing her into his home, but I understand what you're saying."

"Okay, great."

Laila took out the bucket, filled it halfway with cold water while Alec took the largest pot, filled it full of water and began heating it on the stove. Both of them leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the water to heat. Alec tried to stare at the pot because every time he looked at her his eyes inevitably went to her cleavage which embarrassed him.

Laila on the other hand, wasn't embarrassed at all, and began making subtle overtures for his attention. While waiting for the water to boil she stood close enough so their arms were barely touching. Then, as he poured the hot water into the bucket she would put her hand on his shoulder and urge him to be careful. Finally, after he took the water to the bathroom, she looked him in the eyes, smiled, and thanked him. She never broke eye contact with him until she shut the door and he never turned away from her until she shut it.

For a few moments he turned back to the kitchen, then back to the bathroom door. He was sure he could hear her gown drop to the floor and then he heard her dip the sponge into the water and squeeze the excess back into the bucket. All the while visualizing how the warm water glistened on her smooth, olive skin.

"Laila?" he said.

She answered through the door "Yes?"

Alec paused for a moment. He wanted to invite himself in, wash her back then wash her front, and any crack or crevice she desired. As he stood there fighting this urge one second turned into three, then it turned into ten.

"Alec, did you want something?"

"Uhhh . . . did you want some more tea?" He couldn't believe he said that.

"I've had two cups already. I'm fine."

"Oh yeah! Right! Uh, never mind." He then retreated to the kitchen, kicking himself all the way.

"That was real smooth sport" he whispered to himself. "What are you going to do next? Offer to hold her books on the way home?" He tried to rationalize his feelings. He was under stress, she was the only woman he's been near in ten months, and he hadn't jerked off in a week. "I just need to focus and quit thinking about this girl. I don't need my life to get more complicated by accepting this bullshit situation." Then he remembered his situation and realized it couldn't get any more complicated.

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Commander Hiwali looked down at Ilam's body and the large brown pool of dried blood he lay in. His lieutenant watched him, waiting for his next order. Originally Hiwali and four other fighters were going to help the other four men assigned to the ambush point. Now it seemed those plans would have to be changed.

"Sir?" the lieutenant said quietly. "What are your orders?"

"He insisted on helping, did you know that? He said if I didn't take him he'd find another group that would."

"He was very headstrong" the lieutenant answered.

"I figured if he joined with us I could at least keep him out of harm's way. I thought as a guide he would. . ." His voice faded off as he clinched his teeth.

The other two militiamen got out of the car and joined them, unsure what to do to help the commander deal with his nephew's death.

Hiwali looked up at one of the men and cleared his throat. "Abu, you said you found those men on the east edge of the town?"

Abu nodded. "They said they were looking for us but got lost."

"Perhaps they were," Hiwali muttered. "Maybe the Americans sent them here to spy on us. Out at the edge of town would be a good place to direct air strikes on our positions, especially if they had access to our defense plans."

An old woman opened the window of her second story apartment and looked down at the group of men below her. "You, down there! I saw the whole thing!"

Abu looked up at the woman covering herself with a white hijab. "What?"

"They parked their car below my window and woke me. When I got up to yell at them they were throwing that poor boy's body out."

"When did it happen? Did you see where they were going?" Hiwali asked.

"It happened thirty, maybe forty minutes ago. They turned the car around and headed east."

"God bless you!" Hiwali answered.

The woman leaned out further and looked at the boy. "Bring the boy inside; we'll keep him covered until you can send someone for him!"

"We will. Thank you again!" Hiwali then turned to the fourth militiaman. "Sumir, take Ilam inside, cover him, and wait for someone to retrieve him. I'll make a call to headquarters."

"Yes sir" he answered.

The lieutenant spoke up, "Sir, they could be anywhere. Shouldn't we prepare for the Americans?"

Hiwali shook his head. "No, they're not. There are just a few ways out of town to the east. I know which ones are barricaded so the only safe way for them is near the street where Abu found them. If we're lucky, we might be able to catch these spies before they reach their masters."

"What about the Army? What if they invade while we're looking for these murderers?" Sumir added.

"Hiwali shrugged, "We'll have to fight the Americans eventually. Whether we fight them this morning or tonight, it makes no difference to me."

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Alec quietly paced back and forth in the kitchen wondering what possessed him to make such a fool of himself. It was bad enough two nights ago when she was reluctant. Now that she actually liked him and was giving him these "Come hither" looks the tension was almost more than he could stand.

"Come on, hold it together" he said to himself. "You're more than just hormones. All you have to do is hold out for a few more days when we get the hell out of here and then we can get a damn annulment. She's hot, but she's not worth it."

He tried repeating that to himself over and over again until the voices outside broke his concentration. He went to the front door and looked through the peephole. Four men were coming up to the door from the street, and two were carrying AK-47's. He recognized three of them as the ones who kidnapped him.

The pudgy, shy one hanging back on the left was the one he had most contact with when he was in his cell. Then there was the skinny young one to the right who had the look and swagger of a complete poser. The two older men leading this group were the biggest concern, not just because they were the ones carrying the AK's.

The one to the left had a big smile on his face as he approached. Judging by his well-groomed hair and mustache he considered himself a charmer. The gaunt, taller one next to him with the strong, purposeful stride and expressionless eyes obviously didn't care what anyone thought of him. During his time as their prisoner, he never saw the creepy one.

As Alec watched the charmer come to the door and motioned for his scary friend to sling his rifle, which he did reluctantly. The charmer then put on his best smile and knocked on the door.

"American?!" he called out.

Alec thought for a moment. He knew these guys were hired by Laila's family to grab him. Yet if the family had come to get them out of Fallujah, why not just send the same kid that brought them?

The charmer knocked again, "American?"

Alec realized that if he opened that door, he'd probably get shot. If he didn't answer them they'd shoot the lock off, break in, and he'd still get shot. The more he thought about his prospects, the more his heart raced.Think dammit! What the fuck can you do? Think!As he peeked through the peephole again he saw the charmer motioning to the pudgy boy to the front and pointing to the lock. Whatever was going to happen would happen in the next minute.