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2014 - Dubai – Carrying the scent
Carina did not suspect anything about the events that had happened during the night at the prison of Dubai.
After waking up that morning, she had allowed herself the luxury of clinging onto her dreams for a little while longer.
Then she had decided, full of energy that she was going to visit this lawyer. What could he do besides throwing her out?
In her most dreadful fantasies she saw an angry lawyer calling her boss in Munich, or even suing the publishing house. Then she told herself off for being silly, although she could not prevent some of the doubt from staying somewhere in the back of her mind.
The hotel in which she stayed was located in the center, very near the famous spice market. She decided, therefore, to start the day on foot.
As was usual for her, she plunged full of enthusiasm into the turmoil of the Arab world. All the odours and colours; the stand’s of the merchants; the exotic fruits and dishes – all this had fascinated her since she had been to an Arab country as a child with her parents.
As often as possible she went on vacation to the Arabian Peninsula. She was even able to speak some words, which she was very proud of, but she was far away from handling a conversation.
Even the importunity of the Arab men did not bother her: they liked it only too much to talk to a good-looking blond woman with green eyes and they invited her to all kind of things. She used to friendly but firmly refuse all their offers. For the more offensive men she used to wear a ring, pretending it was a wedding band. This helped a lot. However, she only realised now for the first time, that she had never been all alone in Arabia. Normally her boyfriend or at least some other girl had been with her. Well, wasn’t that going to be fun?
For a short moment she thought about her boyfriend Stephan, who also lived in Munich. Or rather: ex-boyfriend. He had shown no understanding at all about her going on this journey, telling her scornfully that she would come running back to him after one week. What an arrogant, self-adoring egocentric!
It seemed that despite being a couple for two years, he still did not know her very well. Even if the trip went horribly wrong, Carina was far too proud to go back to Stephan of all people.
She would prefer to go begging in the streets of Munich.
She was pleased that she never gave in to him urging her to move in with him. She still had her little apartment in Munich, her own realm, and also her job, so she was independent.
She forced these thoughts away. She was in Dubai, in the middle of an adventure and Munich – as well as Stephan - were far away!
Instead she made herself look at all the products the merchants were trying to sell. She took her time to move along the narrow gaps between the stands. Strangely enough, she was hardly spoken to and, unusually, bothered less than normal.
“Well, maybe I am now past the interesting age?”, she thought. With a critical gaze she stopped in front of a mirror at one of the stands at the bazaar. In spite of not normally being vain at all, she was content with what she saw:
Her long, dark, blond hair was bound into a ponytail and she wore a light, linen headscarf. Along with that, she wore a dark green linen blouse, which emphasised the colour of her eyes well. With her 1.65 m she was rather short, but that had been seen as an advantage by her Arabian admirers so far.
Additionally, she was wearing cream-coloured trousers, which were ankle-length, and colour-matching sandals. The clothing fell softly around her body, not pointing out her slim, sporty figure too much. In Arabic countries it was better to wear more clothes than show too much skin for your own safety.
Of course the men liked less fabric (and naked skin), which some of the female tourists liked to show off, as for them that was just like an invitation. At first that could be exciting but the novelty tended to wear off very fast. However, much worse were the Arab women, especially the elderly ones; they would throw glances at you that could kill you. Carina had had that experience as she went naively through some bazaar in Egypt in hot-pants and a top with spaghetti straps at the age of 16. After a few minutes she had felt like she was running the gauntlet. Since then she has always carefully considered her clothing.
She thought about the Sheikh: why had he talked to her like that? Was it really only because of the article? She tried to remember his looks: he was tall – surely almost 1.90 m but additionally he was in perfect shape – those muscles!
And of course she had to picture again those impressive, dark-blue eyes. She just could not get away from the intensity of his gaze. Yet she pondered: why did an Arabian Sheikh have blue eyes? He had to have some foreign ancestors, surely that was the only logical explanation?
The black turtleneck had fitted perfectly to his dark jacket and had shown just enough for her to suspect that underneath lay a heavily trained body full of muscles. What would he look like naked? Just when she started to picture this in more detail, in the turmoil of the market someone bumped into her from behind, bringing her back to reality. She tried to concentrate more on her surrounding, after all there were more than enough thieves in any bazaar. Caution, therefore, was essential. However, the moment she paid more attention to the people around her she realised, suddenly, that some of them had been just about to talk to her in that famous and so typical way;, then they suddenly turned away to go on with other business, as if they had changed their minds.
Only when she reached the end of the long row of stands a jeweller solved the riddle for the woman from Munich: ”Young lady, wouldn’t you like to underline your beauty with one of these priceless pieces? Maybe a necklace? Or – but you already have one… - then perhaps these earrings? For sure they will fit perfectly? May I?“ And without waiting for an answer, he moved his hand to touch her new amulet. Right before she could phrase her usual protest that she had specifically ready for this kind of case, the hand of the merchant stopped dead where it was before even touching the gold. Then he suddenly drew back his fingers as if he was afraid of burning himself. His face had gone pale. “Excuse me Madam, that I have bothered you.” Then he bowed deeply in front of her and quickly disappeared into his store.
At that moment the pieces of the jigsaw-puzzle fell into place. She was still wearing the necklace with the emblem of the Sheikh around her neck. Exactly like the guy Mazin had told her, she did not remove it. Not so much because she had really been counting on the result, but rather more because she regarded it as a sign of good fate to help her on her search. She could hardly believe that the Sheikh’s influence reached that far: yet she had just witnessed it. Happily she decided that this was going to be helpful. Some way further away from the market she got herself a taxi and told to the driver the address of the lawyer’s office.
2014 - Dubai – A lawyer of all things
Carina soon realised that the driver was steering the taxi into the noble part of the city. The streets were getting even wider, cleaner and emptier.
With few exceptions, exclusive cars could be seen on the side of the road. Others were overtaking the taxi with far too much speed. Organising competitions with high-priced cars seemed to be one type of leisure activity around here.
The taxi stopped at a big building with huge mirrored-glass windows, dark glass doors and golden door handles.
She paid the driver and got out. The surroundings were impressive: you could almost smell the luxury all around.
On the outside of the building, in front of which she was standing, she could read the name of the lawyer’s office on a black marble panel, which was written in golden letters – of course.
"They are not even going to let me through that door!", Carina thought, feeling intimidated. Although to give up now, without even trying was not on her list. As she had just arrived here she was not going to back-out or turn around. At least she would try.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Much to her surprise, an access manager in an impressive uniform just smiled politely at her, asked her to put her name in the visitors’ book and after that let her pass to the elevator without hindrance. She went to the upper level, which obviously was completely occupied by the lawyer’s office, which she could guess from a building plan inside the elevator’s cabin.
As she exited the elevator, the first thing she noticed was the comfortable temperature and then the deep plush floor carpets, which seemed to be fairly expensive and also swallowed every sound. The walls were lined with what seemed like priceless paintings, which simply served to emphasise the office's expensive and impressive luxury. Carina did not know the artist and therefore had no means to estimate their value. Additionally, she had to admit, she did not know much about art in the first place to even dare a guess.
A lady dressed in European clothing immediately came to Carina and greeted her in English: "How can I help you? Do you have an appointment with one of our lawyers?”
"No, I do not have any appointment, sorry. But I would like to speak to Mister Taib Riad, if that would be possible? I have a message for him. “
"I see – just a moment please.“ She went back to her desk and picked up the phone.
After talking briefly she said: “I am really sorry, but Mister Riad is just on his way to a meeting. He asked if you could leave the message with me.”
Carina had no intention at all to let the letter get out of her hands. Therefore she replied: “I am afraid that is not possible. Then she quickly added: “because it is a personal message for his eyes only”. When hearing this, the lady sceptically lifted her eyebrows but still she remained extremely polite. “Would it be possible then, that you at least tell me the name of the person that gave you the message for my superior?”
"That would be His Excellency Sheikh Rayan Suekran al Medina y Nayran - personally“, Carina replied somewhat proudly.
The face of the lady reflected her surprise when hearing the name, but she quickly got herself under control and returned once again to her over-friendly smile.
"Just another moment please“ – and again she picked up the receiver. This time she spoke for a little bit longer. When putting the phone down again, she said: "Mister Riad is going to receive you now. Please come with me.”
Carina could hardly believe her good luck and hurried to follow the assistant. They went along the hallway to her right until the end, around the corner and then again until the end. The names on the office doors they passed told her that several lawyers were obviously working here for this company.
Already the door to Taib Riad’s office left no doubt that it was bigger and more impressive than the others. He seemed to be very important here - if not the big boss.
The lady knocked and let Carina go inside without waiting for a reply from the inside. Then she left and closed the door silently behind her.
For a moment Carina felt lost within this big room. Then she saw the man behind the desk.
"Good morning. My name is Taib Riad. You have a personal message for me?“ He talked to her in grammatically correct English with an obvious American accent. His voice, as well as his eyes, clearly showed that he had doubts about the fact that Carina could really provide such a letter. He eyed her up from head-to-toe, then his gaze fixed on the necklace, which caused him to furrow his brows.
"I really don’t like that guy", Carina thought. She also looked her new acquaintance up and down. He was only half a head taller than her, was very slim and had wiry movements. Carina would not have called him unattractive, but this penetrating, erratic look from his pitch black eyes told her that he was no one to fool around with and that he had no sense of humour.
"Isn’t that just great?! And this guy is supposed to help me. It is more likely that hell would freeze over”, Carina thought to herself, while not saying anything and smiling bravely.
"Is that the message?“, he asked again with forced politeness and Carina realised that she had surely stared at him impolitely. On top of that, she had not introduced herself yet.
"Yes this is it. I am very sorry. My name is Carina Hartmann. I am from Germany.“ As if that explained anything. She handed the envelope over to him.
He looked at it quickly and again furrowed his brows. “Well, I can confirm that the letter indeed is from His Excellency, even if I am not able to understand the largest part of the message. It is German, I suppose? Well apart from that it seems to be that only the last sentence of the letter is directed at me, isn’t it?“
Again Taib looked at her calculatingly, as if he was trying to read her thoughts. “The Sheikh is one of our best clients and also a friend. I represent him in many cases. The Arabic phrase, in case you have not already translated it, means that I should be friendly to you and should answer your questions. Questions about what Miss Hartmann?“ The last part sounded much more like interrogation than like "friendly support“, and Carina had to swallow hard. This man gave her the creeps in spite of his polite behaviour. She thought about what to say and then sighed: "Well, I am about to write a book about him and … well …” At that point he interrupted her and was suddenly not so polite anymore: "You are not serious – this is a joke, right?” He did not look amused at all and instead laughed in an unfriendly way. "Do you really think that I would answer one single question? So that afterwards you can write any trash about him?“ He laughed again without any humour. His behaviour caused Carina to slowly become angry: "Well, obviously he thought you were going to reply to my questions, otherwise he would not have sent me to you, is that not true? Because this seems indeed to be your address and YOUR name, which is in HIS handwriting on the letter?“
The answer was an Arabic curse, which seemed to mean something like: "he must have lost his mind“.
He picked up the phone and spoke briefly.
"I have just delayed my conference for half an hour. Therefore – what can I do for you and why did he send you to me in the first place?“ When he said this, he looked like he wanted to add “and what have I done to deserve this”.
The following exchange did not bring much new information for Carina, even though she tried her best in asking clever questions.
Only the matter about the origin of the blue-coloured eyes of the Sheikh the lawyer replied to openly:
they were inherited from his German grandmother. It was the same reason why he was able to speak German almost accent-free, as he had grown up with two languages.
Yes, his granny was still alive, in Zarifa.
Where exactly is Zarifa? - Deep in the Arabian Desert
Why are there no photographs of it? - Because the Sheikh likes to keep his privacy
But there had to be reporters that have tried to take pictures? -Paparazzi? Not that he, Taib knew about it
The questioning went like that with the man somehow managing to stay vague the whole time. It was not really helpful, but then again what had Carina expected?
Finally, the farewell was pretty interesting as well: the lawyer asked her, for “security reasons”, for her ID card and made a copy of both sides. Now he has all my data – Carina thought. Without knowing exactly why, she did not feel good about that.
"These copies, dear Miss Hartmann, I have made so I can call you back if I have to. Everywhere and at any time.“ He paused for a moment and let the last word take effect for what it was: a threat.
He observed the reaction to his words and only then he continued: “What I would like to point out right from the beginning, is that any book, which may be written about His Excellency has to be agreed with him personally and in detail – in advance. If not, we will sue you personally, your house of publication, your publisher, the translator and whoever else might be involved in this project, until your very last Euro cent. Believe me, you do NOT want to undergo this. Do you understand what I say?” Again this was clearly a threat.
Carina did not bother to answer him and the farewell was quite cool under these circumstances.
She had to smile a little bit as the thought crossed her mind, that the necklace did not seem to have any influence at all on the charming Taib Riad. However, the amulet around her neck had been the reason why she had entered the building so easily in the first place. Thus she was mistaken about its influence… as soon as she had put her back to the assistant on the ground floor to go into the elevator, he had called the lawyer’s office to inform them about a visitor. However, she did not know that until she was told several months later.
Back out in the sunshine and the burning heat of the midday sun, she went into a café shop nearby, ordered one of those nice sweet Arabic desserts and thought about the discussion she had just had. What should she do now? There was not much news she had learned, where was she supposed to go now?
She abandoned her former plan to go to the Arab offices. Back then she had hoped to find a lead to the Sheikh, but had never thought of being so close in such a short period of time. She really had been lucky. If it was not for that damned lawyer. For a moment she really considered waiting until he left the building, in order to follow him. Though she disregarded the thought as it was not realistic. On one hand she did not think he would bring her to another person that was near to the Sheikh and on the other hand his threat still rang in her ears and she was well aware that this had not been an idle warning.
The last thing she needed was for someone to press charges against her or her boss. Her boss would immediately call her back to Munich.
1989 - Zarifa – A forlorn way
"You know that there is no other way, don’t you honey?“ Eleonora looked sadly into the eyes of her grandson. "Here you are in too much danger. Just imagine, he will find you one day. What will happen then only Allah knows.“
Rayan nodded hesitatingly. He had already packed, not that he had much to carry with him anyway.
Since his "death“ six months had passed by, which he had used to recover slowly, bit by bit, until he felt his former strength return.
What Eleonora had feared from the very first night, had proven to be right: his back was and would always be a terrible reminder of a horrible day.
But worse than the marks on his skin were the scars on the inside. His own father had not only tortured him, but had also sentenced him to death! Although the images in his mind were blurred because of his devastated state at the moment of reunion with his father, there was one thing that felt like it would be burned into his memory for eternity: that the only answer to his plea for help had been another harsh slap across his face. Of course he had no idea – and Eleonora neither – that the death sentence that day, which was to be by hanging the next morning, had been a trick of his father not to lose his face but to also gain time in order to spare the life of his son.
Rayan had just heard from Eleonora that almost all of his friends had been captured and he assumed they were dead.
Furthermore, he could not know that the man, who he had named Scarface, had been found dead. Someone had cut his throat. Everyone thought it had been one of the rebels during their flight, in order to avenge what he had done to their leader, but that was nowhere near the truth.
Therefore Rayan felt helpless and alone. Besides his grandparents, no further relatives were left. In his eyes he no longer had a father and he had no access to his brother, who was safely in Zarifa, a place where Rayan would never return.
Everything had changed with the death of his mother almost nine years ago.
He gave himself a start – to hell with self-pity. He was alive, strong and healthy. Moreover, he knew that his grandmother was right: he could not stay here any longer. Who knew what his father might do to her and grandpa Youssef if their trick was seen through? Therefore he started out all alone, scarcely three weeks after his 16th birthday, into an unknown future.
He was from now on an outcast, a man without homeland.
