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2014 – Prison of Dubai – Thoughts of a break-way
Ashraf was in mortal fear.
He had known from the very beginning that the job was going to be risky, yet was not able to resist the large amount of money that he had been offered.
He had calculated that the death of the Sheikh would cause so much chaos that it would enable him to slip away without any problems.
However, he had underestimated the Colonel: his troops had not reacted with their typical lethargy, but had immediately gotten on his heels.
On top of that he had failed to make even a scratch on his victim. This would not impress his client, so he could not count on any help from that side.
He was on his own that much was sure.
It was crystal clear to him that the Sheikh was deadly serious with his threat: “There is no wall thick enough to not be able to reach you and you are going to die very slowly. This is my promise.”
His blood ran cold when he just thought about that moment and those ice-cold eyes without any mercy.
The Sheikh was known to keep one hundred per cent of his promises.
Therefore, Ashraf really was a dog’s breakfast if he did not succeed in getting away soon.
The Colonel’s people had already interrogated him for hours, but that did not bother him. From time-to-time one of the officers couldn’t help himself from hitting the assassin, but they were not able to break Ashraf. He was no weakling: if he was, he would not have been chosen for the job.
He had some kind of back-up plan up his sleeve, but for this to work out it was necessary for him to be brought back to his cell. He had - thanks to Allah! - thought ahead and taken counter-measures just in case he would end up in this prison.
“Always calculate for the worst,” was his motto, which had guided him well through life so far and had helped him get out of hairy situations in the past.
Hopefully his cousin Ali would already be waiting to get him out of here. Ali was a bit of a retard, but to break him out of jail, all he had to do was follow Ashraf’s instructions, which he had given him in advance. He was smart enough to carry out the plan.
All Ashraf needed now was a little bit of patience. At least that was what he told himself to calm down.
2014 - Hotel room in Dubai - Desert wind
Carina was sitting on her bed inside her hotel room. Her meager budget had only allowed her to book a 3-star-hotel, but in spite of the simplicity of the room it was spotlessly clean and friendly, with colourful carpets on the floor as well as at the walls.
The bed had been freshly prepared as well, which was a relief as she had had bad experiences in other Arab countries before.
The bathroom next door was neat and had all the necessary conveniences.
A shower and a good dinner would help her to get rid of the dizziness. What else was she going to do here anyway?
Crap - she hated eating alone in a hotel. Therefore she decided to eat as quickly as possible and to take her wine with her to the room. That was for the best anyway because alcohol was not liked around here and was mostly just provided for the tourists.
Then she suddenly remembered the letter, which she had received from the flight attendant. In the course of events she had completely forgotten about it. She took it out of her bag, but hesitated for a moment: in one hand she turned the amulet absentmindedly around her neck, while in the other one she was holding the envelope, gazing at it attentively.
In a surprisingly beautiful, but at the same time very energetic, handwriting it said: "For Miss Carina“ – What was she waiting for? It would hardly be an invitation to visit him in Zarifa, right? She took another gulp of her wine and then opened the letter.
It contained very expensive stationery. On the heading was printed the emblem of His Excellency – in black and white – the same as on her necklace.
"Dear Miss Carina,
I really do hope that you are not too angry with me because of my deception. But when I saw that you were so absorbed by the article about me, I just could not resist.
Please find attached the address of my lawyer, who is based here in this city, as a sign of compensation. When you show him this letter he is going to answer some questions for you.
If Allah is willing, our paths will cross again one day. May he be with you and guide you on your way.
Rayan“
Further below there was a phrase in Arabic, which she could not understand. She could actually speak a few words, mostly polite, basic aspects of the language, but she could not read it at all.
She assumed that this was meant for the lawyer.
A lawyer! Of all people. But what had she expected? She decided it was best to go to bed and get some sleep. The next morning was early enough to think about her next steps.
After an exhausting day full of events, her head had barely touched the pillow when she was fast asleep. She dreamt of the desert wind, oases and the most fascinating blue eyes she had ever seen …
1989 - Zarifa – The escape
The group of young people were gathered tightly together, all around Rayan. He had been so brave. But what for? He was in a terrible condition. They had been given water and a blanket. Sachra managed to force small amounts of water into him. She was the only woman in the group, small, petite and with her hair cut short like the men. She considered herself a warrior as well.
"If he gets a fever, he will not make it through the night. I really do not understand how his own father … what a monster!“ Tears were shimmering in her brown eyes. Her boyfriend Ibrahim replied softly: "Maybe it is for the best like that. I mean, not waking up again. Think of the pain that he would suffer. And he would not have to live through the spectacle tomorrow.“ Sachra just stared at him without a word, what could she say anyway?
About an hour before midnight she woke up because Ibrahim was gently touching her arm and said: “Believe it or not, I have found an open gate … This could be our last hope to get away.“ Sachra thought for a moment: "But it could be a trap as well, which is more likely.“ However, Ibrahim had already woken the others: "Quiet! We have to be absolutely silent.“ And to Sachra he said: "So what? if it is a trap – do I care? Tomorrow we will be dead anyway. I’d prefer to struggle with a trap, because at least then we will all die fighting.“
Their next concern was about Rayan. What could they do with him? To leave him here was not an option. “I know what we can do”, said Sachra, “his grandparents do not live far from here. We will take him to them. There he has a better chance to survive. Even if they find him there, hopefully his grandmother can save him from the Sheikh. After all, His Excellency was once her son-in-law.“ Ibrahim just needed some time to think this over, then he nodded in agreement. “It’s a good idea.“
Quietly the friends were sneaking out of the corral in which they had been put – one by one. They succeeded in quietly knocking out one of the guards.
After that they split up: three of them crept off to the north in order to make their way up to the rebel settlement. Ibrahim, Sachra and another guy in the group carried the still unconscious Rayan in the direction of his grandmother’s place. Of course the heaviest part of his body was carried by the two men.
Two hard hours later they arrived at grandmother Eleonora’s place, where she lived together with her husband Youssef. They knocked on the door and got her out of bed.
Eleonora was the reason why Rayan had blue eyes, in spite of his Arabian lineage. She had passed them onto her daughter Miriam, Rayan’s mother. Eleonora came from Germany and had stayed in Arabia because of her love for Youssef. In the same hut they still lived in, their only daughter Miriam had been born.
In spite of Eleonora being at least 60 at the time, she was agile and quick and everyone that knew about her temper was careful not to aggravate her.
After a brief explanation, the friends left the severely wounded Rayan with the elderly woman and continued onwards, in order to get themselves to safety somewhere else.
Eleonora was horror-struck by the sheer number of bloody wounds on Rayan’s back. When she began to clean them with gentle movements, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Even in the unlikely event that Rayan was physically strong enough to survive this torture, he would be blemished and severely scarred for the rest of his life, not to mention any of the mental consequences.
2014 – Prison of Dubai – The break-out
Colonel Abboud’s people called it a day.
A few hours of steaming in his own sweat would not be bad for the prisoner. They would eventually succeed in breaking him anyway. Tomorrow was another day and after the announcement that His Excellency was leaving the city early in the morning, despite all the events, they now had all the time in the world.
Therefore they put Ashraf in a cell, which was more of a stinking hole than anything else. However, it failed to distress Ashraf, who was happy about the only thing he needed: a small window, or, in this case, rather a narrow slit.
Immediately he took off his clothes and hung them out of this tiny window. It took him some time to hang them up, as it was high above the ground, but after some effort, half of it climbing, half of it just throwing, he managed to do so. This was the sign for Ali that he was inside the cell now and showed him exactly where to find him.
Ashraf’s body ached in several places from the rough handling by the policemen, but that was a side-effect he could live with, it would heal soon enough; and in case he did not succeed in getting away from here quickly, his health would not be worth anything anymore anyway.
He just hoped that his cousin would keep to the agreement. Surely he had heard as well, that the assassination had failed? After all, Ali had ears everywhere.
When it was past midnight, Ashraf was in a state of severe depression. Then, to his relief, he heard the agreed whistle. It was the nicest sound he had ever heard. Happily he replied to the whistle in the same manner.
He expected to hear some explosion or something abnormal; instead, he just heard the dangling sound of some keys and then a flickering light could be seen in the hallway that led to the cell. With a torch in his hand and a broad smile on his face his cousin was standing in front of him. “Well cousin? Did you start to doubt your old cousin Ali?”
"Hell, Ali! What are you doing? Are you insane?“, Ashraf shouted at him. With a sour face, which showed that he was offended, Ali opened the metal bars to the cell: “You could be a little bit more grateful.”
However, Ashraf did not have time for his cousin’s feelings, as he expected the Colonel’s men to arrive any time soon: “for sure they are not going to let us walk out of here just like that! We will get caught and then what benefit is there to us when we are both just sitting here? How will we get out then? Eh?“
"Don’t be such a sissy, the guards are all sleeping deeply, like babies, you know? In the end this is just a normal police station and nothing else…” Well, when Ali was right, he was right. The usual policemen were known for not taking their job too seriously. “But what about the Colonel’s men?“, Ashraf asked. They would not be fooled so easily.
"One of them has bitten the dust outside, another one I managed to knock unconscious. You think I want to go to prison? Surely not Ali! Let’s get going, before the second one wakes up“, exclaimed Ali, full of pride.
Ashraf could not believe his luck. With a broad grin he bear-hugged his cousin. “Ali, I have clearly underestimated you!” Even though Ali had just informed him about killing a man, he did not shed a single tear. It was either them or him.
Almost too easily they reached the exit. Could it really be that simple? It struck him as strange, but he decided to wonder about his lucky fate later. Near the door that led outside were two more of the Colonel’s men, who could be easily identified by the colours of their uniforms. They were self-assured, and deep in conversation. They were keeping an eye on what was going on outside, yet they clearly did not expect anything unusual from the inside. Why should they be in any danger from inside the prison walls?
“How do we pass them?”, Ashraf whispered, barely audibly into Ali’s ear. It was essential not to make any sound now.
This had been prepared for in Ali’s calculations: instead of using the door, he lead Ashraf into the backyard of the prison.
In the pale moonlight Ashraf saw a rope hanging down from the wall. With the help of some boxes, which were lying around, it was easy for sporty Ashraf to climb the wall of the stinking and filthy backyard, normally used for garbage.
Ali had some difficulties, but eventually he succeeded as well and drew himself alongside Ashraf on top of the wall. A last glance back at the prison and quickly Ashraf was down on the outside. He gasped with relief. He was about to congratulate his cousin again when he heard a gurgling sound and something heavy falling down. He tried to accustom his eyes to the dark alley, but he could not see anything at all. "Ali?“, he asked softly. There was no answer.
That was the moment he realised something was definitely not right. He should have listened to his doubts – it had been too easy. Before he could think about what to do, he was grabbed from behind. The last thing he felt was the penetration of a needle into his throat and, with the thought that this was not the way he had planned it, all descended into darkness.
2014 - Dubai – The Colonel
Colonel Abboud stomped around. He was in a violent temper.
He was a small man with some fat starting to show, who seemed to sweat constantly.
However, his mind was quick and always fully awake. He and his men had the reputation for being unbribable.
Neither with him nor with any of his man was it possible to fool around. They simply had no sense of humour.
For three days he had been preparing for the arrival of the Sheikh. He had drilled all his men and nearly driven them crazy, planned the ceremony and had personally taken care that they were spotlessly presented down to every last blinking button on their uniforms. The same went for the local police officers.
After all, His Excellency, who was a person of high influence, did not come here too often. Most of the time he flew with his jet directly to Alessia. At least according to the information you would hear about him.
Therefore, it was naturally in the interest of the Colonel that this experience was a special one.
Well, it had been, hadn’t it? At least in a way…he thought ironically.
He was fully aware of the reputation of the Sheikh and knew more than anything how far his influence could reach.
It was said that he had destroyed the life of men just because they had not treated him respectfully enough. The Colonel was not really sure if these rumours were true but for sure he was not willing to take the risk of finding out.
And then came the first bad news: the jet had had a technical defect so the Sheikh had to change to a regular flight, full of tourists. What a disaster!
Consequently, it was necessary to change the whole ceremony from the rear part of the airport, which was reserved for private jets, into the main part, which was completely exposed. From a security point of view, it was a nightmare. Additionally, on top of the assassination that had led to the death of one of the Sheikh’s men (and not just anyone, so he heard), one of his officers had reported to him a minute ago that the perpetrator had gotten away.
A break-out? In the middle of the night – just like that? Out of the city’s prison?
What made the situation even worse was that his men had not succeeded in getting a single word out of him, in spite of hours of interrogation yesterday. He knew his men had no conscience about abusing a prisoner a little bit harder if he asked for it. Ashraf had obviously been one of the tougher ones.
That scumbag! He would put him in his place eventually. This was his city and he estimated it would take no more than three days until the man would be in his grasp again. He already knew that the cousin – a small fat merchant named Ali – had been part of the game. He was going to find him as well. Soon.
He was just relieved that His Excellency had departed already. He was the last person he needed in his company right now. Just the thought that he would have had to report to him this bad news gave him the creeps.
But the good news was, that by the time he saw the Sheikh again, all would be resolved. Both men would be securely somewhere deep down in the basement of his prison. He was absolutely sure of that.
At that moment he could not even begin to know, that he was absolutely right about the time frame of three days before getting back the perpetrator. Only he had imagined it to be completely different.
When Ali was found later that day with a cut throat, the Colonel began to have a hunch that there was something very unusual about their break-out.
1989 - Zarifa – Shattered future
Sheikh Sedat Suekran had followed the tracks of the fugitives until the hut of Eleonora and Youssef. It had not been too difficult. It had been his idea to open the gate for the rebels.
It had been his hope to find the settlement without bloodshed. And it had worked.
The threat of the gallows and having to watch what his men had done to Rayan had put the seven people into a state of panic. Some of them had fled directly to the location without hesitation.
He and his men just had to wait until morning and follow their tracks: the runaways had only partly bothered to try to wipe their tracks away. The lack of leadership was evident.
Sedat was surprised not to find Rayan along with them, but then it became clear to him that it had been too far to carry an unconscious person.
He quickly came to the same conclusion, like Sachra the night before: the house of Eleonora and Youssef was much nearer.
Although the rebels were taken completely by surprise, it had taken Sedat’s men some time to conquer the settlement. Subsequently it was almost nightfall when Sedat reached the grandparents hut.
He found Eleonora, drenched in tears at the table of the small room. “I tried everything, but it was too late”, she said repeatedly.
Suddenly she jumped to her feet, pointed her skinny forefinger at him and yelled: "You are the one who killed him! You should die of shame – you … monster! You killer!“
Her harsh reaction took Sedat by surprise as he could not grasp at first, what she was talking about. However, after a few seconds he went pale as he finally understood – and hurried outside.
About a hundred meters away from the house he found Youssef, who had just finished putting earth onto a freshly dug grave. Affectionately he arranged a vase with flowers on top of the little hill. There were also tears streaming down his face.
When Sedat reached the grave, Youssef just looked at him with desperation: "I really do hope he has finally found some peace, next to his mother“, and he pointed at the other grave, right beside them. The reminder was not necessary for Sedat.
He was very well aware that this place was the last resting place of his beloved wife Miriam, Rayan’s mother, who had died giving birth to his second son Daoud at the age of just 32.
The childbirth had been difficult and Daoud had lacked oxygen for too long, which was why he was mentally handicapped.
As a result, all his hopes had been set on his first-born Rayan, who now lay in this grave, along with all his plans for the future. Sobbing for the first time in decades he fell to his knees right in front of the grave.
