Zainab the mother

* * *

Three more days passed with the same routine. Bread, water, blindfolded, then Walid fucking me in the ass in the evening.

"How much longer, my lord?" I asked Walid when he was done on the third day.

"I like you like this, Zainab Habiba," he said. "A few more months should break you. A few more years here and you will lose your looks. Then I can divorce you."

"My children,.." I began.

"You have no children!" he shouted. I was blindfolded and could not see his expression. "They are MY children! You will never see them again!"

When Sultana al Abadi came to remove my blindfold, she found it was soaked with my tears. I cried for several hours that night, till my throat was raw. I was debilitated from three days of bread and water and sagged against the wall. The iron ring around my neck cut into my flesh and drew blood.

I will die here, I thought. Like my grandmother.

I pulled out my phone and saw that the battery was quite low. I knew I did not have much time. I put on the recorder and began my story.

* * *

When Sultana al Abadi came in the morning with my bread and water, she clucked as she saw the blood where the iron ring had cut into my neck.

"Sultana al Abadi," I whispered through my raw throat. "Are you related to Faisal al Abadi, the date trader who lives in Al Zubah?"

"Why he is my brother!" she said. "How do you know him?"

"My half-sister, Salima Banu is married to him."

"She is a wonderful girl," said Sultana. "She has made my brother very happy. I love visiting them, she is more a sister than a sister-in-law."

"Then you are my sister," I gasped, forcing the words out. "Please help me."

"I cannot free you. They would kill me."

"No, no, I would not ask that of you." I made a motion for her to come closer. She leaned forward and I put my lips right by her ear. I spoke as low as I could in Badawi, and hoped no recording device would pick it up. "Please take my phone. And give it to my sister, Salima Banu. Tell her to give it to John Grierson of Foncault. She can find him on the internet."

* * *

EPILOGUE -- THREE MONTHS LATER

Jack sat at the conference table with a powerful man with many martial tattoos and a shaven head. Zainab Habiba's phone was on the table between them. Jack's eyes were moist and the other man looked understanding despite his tough demeanor.

"What do you have for me, Paddy?" asked Jack. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.

"It's a tough one, Jack," said Paddy. "The recce team reported back this morning. I'm afraid it's not good news."

"What do you mean? Give it to me straight."

"They're pretty sure the girl is dead. Died about three weeks ago, according to the sources they located."

Jack made a strong effort to keep his face wooden, but his fist clenched and he hit the table hard enough to rattle the phone.

"There's no chance she's alive?"

"It's a miracle she lived as long as she did, Jack. She was a tough one, a real desert rat. And loyal to her husband. She gave him his conjugal rights to the end, willingly. And he took her regularly. But on bread and water, she was growing weaker by the day. It was only a matter of time."

"I want a team to go in there anyway. To confirm, find a body if there is one."

"It will be difficult, Jack. And not much chance of success. But we'll do it if you want."

"And I want another team to get the children out. All three of them."

"That will be messy. A bloody shit show. But at least we know the kids are in good shape. We can hide them fairly easily, and in a few years, no one will recognize them."

"I'm going with the team looking for Zainab Habiba. Then I'll rendezvous with the second team going after the children."

"You sure, Jack? These are going to be real firefights. The lads are pros, you can trust them."

"I know that, Paddy. But this one's personal."