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2014 – In the desert near Dubai – A horrible discovery
Carina was out of her mind with joy: finally they really were on their way. The caravan moved slowly and sedately away from the starting point into the open desert. How lucky she had been to find Hatem. This just had to be destiny.
She was just rejoicing from the beauty of the sun coming up on the horizon, spreading its colours all over the sand, when they noticed some turmoil further ahead. The other members of the caravan seemed to accelerate their trot.
Soon she saw the reason why: something had been placed directly on the side of the path. Was it some kind of monument? Here in the middle of the desert?
As she came nearer terror grabbed her and she could understand the nervousness of the other riders: it was a human being that was hanging there!
Someone had fixed the man on a wooden frame, which was about two meters high, with the clear aim that everyone passing by had to look at him. He seemed to be dead.
It was a horrible sight! His body was covered in blood, he had been whipped and, additionally, he seemed to have been tortured with a knife. In some places of his body the skin appeared to have been cut and partly peeled away. From these gaping wounds blood was trickling all over.
Carina was stunned by terror and could not stop staring at the grisly scene. Every little detail burned into her brain and she had stopped her camel without even realising it.
Above the head of the man was a sign fixed to the wood. It seemed to be some kind of inscription but she could not read as it was written in Arabic.
"Who does something like this?!“, she asked in a low voice, without really expecting an answer.
As if the man had heard her words, he suddenly raised his head up and looked at her pleadingly. He tried to speak, but did not succeed. His head sunk low again, he seemed to have lost consciousness again. "Or maybe he died“, a voice whispered in her head.
The stare went to her core and then her blood ran cold: she suddenly remembered that she knew this man. She had seen him at the airport but because of the horrible state he was in and all the blood she had not immediately recognized him. Yet now she was sure that it was the assassin.
Carina felt cold despite the rising temperature and she addressed Hatem, who had brought his camel aside of her and was just about to take over her reins to encourage her camel to move onwards.
"Good lord Hatem! He is still alive! Someone has to do something!“
However Hatem just dragged her camel with a gloomy face, without even hesitating for a second.
"No one can help him anymore. Stay out of things that are not your business!“ Tears ran down Carina’s face.
"What did it say on the sign?“, she demanded to know. When Hatem did not reply, she said it again. "Please Hatem, I have to know!“ Finally in a low voice he answered her: "Beware! This is going to happen to all enemies of the great Sheikh Suekran al Medina y Nayran.“
Carina moaned. "Oh lord! This cannot be true!“
The Sheikh? What kind of monster was he if he allowed things like that to happen?
Hatem was still holding the reigns of her camel, as if he was afraid she would do something stupid.
"How long do you think he has been hanging there?“, she asked Hatem with a trembling voice. He looked shaken as well.
"Supposedly since yesterday morning. I heard rumours that the assassin managed to break out of prison the night of the assassination …“
"But why would anyone do something so savage and cruel?“
Hatem laughed dryly and without any humour said: "You have heard what is said on the sign. It is a warning: now everyone will think twice to dare go against His Excellency.“ Then he added: “And now Miss Carina you understand why I told you that you have no idea what you are getting yourself into. We are in the desert now and you should just forget about all the laws that you learnt at home. Here it is the rule of the strongest: whoever is not strong enough dies. Very simple!“
A little softer he went on: "Now we can still turn around. Are you really sure you would like to continue?”
Carina gave herself a start and adjusted herself correctly on her camel. She held her head high and looked firmly at Hatem. "I am even more convinced!“
Thus they continued onwards further into the desert, following the path that the camels had left in the sand. 1990 - Rabea Akbar - The General
It was the beginning of November when Rayan rang the bell of General Jack Tanner’s house. He was quite nervous, standing in front of a door made from expensive dark wood with a golden door knob and a golden door bell.
The walls had been whitewashed recently, which emphasised the elegant impression of the whole property.
To his right he guessed that there was a garden rather than actually being able to see it, due to the high fence and a hedge as well. Additionally, he could hear the dribbling sound of a fountain.
Through a gap in the fence he got a glimpse of a terrace that went all along the length of the house. It had seemingly comfortable-looking and inviting wooden furniture with colourful cushions to recline on.
He had been invited to lunch. Within the camp he was treated like all natives: mostly with arrogance; so he did not appreciate the whole idea about this special status and an invitation from the “big boss”. It was unclear how the soldiers would react if they found out about it. He just hoped that they never would. Furthermore, it had been quite some time since he had last sat at a Western table. Here mostly the flat ones were used, which you ate at while sitting on the floor, on a carpet or some pillows. He silently thanked his grandmother, who had insisted on teaching him table manners from Germany whenever he visited her. Clara had assured him that the American habits were very similar. Of course, she could not suppress an amused grin along with it. “Just great”, he thought, “this is going to be one big disgrace.”
A servant of the General opened the door for him, he was let in and led to the living room.
"Here he is our ‘son of the desert’“. With a big smile on his face the General came to greet him. Rayan liked him from the very first minute. He had broad shoulders, a slightly greyish moustache and Clara had secretly told him that he was 52. Due to his height of 1.94 m he was taller than most other people. Against his will, Rayan had to admit that the General reminded him a little of his own father. He had the natural gift to impress people without doing a lot as well. Even when Clara’s dad entered a room without his insignias he immediately drew everyone’s attention. He was known to his men as being level-headed and fair and they looked up to him.
Even Rayan, who measured an impressive 1.89 m, felt small beside him. Jack Tanner had dark grey eyes, which never seemed to rest and when he looked Rayan straight in the eye it felt like he was seeing directly into his soul. Behind his back it was said that he could read minds and now Rayan understood why that was.
Julie, Clara’s mother, was a wonderful person. She smiled a lot and the way she looked at her husband gave the impression that she was very much in love with him. Her hair had the same reddish-brown colour as Clara’s, but in hers some grey was already visible. The grey had a positive effect and made her even more attractive.
She was some years younger than her husband and Rayan estimated her to be in her mid-40s.
Besides her hair, she had also passed on her pale blue eye colour to Clara, but it was without Clara’s constantly mocking sparkle. She did not say much and when she did, it was with a quiet, soft voice. Rayan found himself thinking that Clara was going to grow into a fairly beautiful woman if she continued to resemble her mother.
In comparison to his wife the general talked a lot and mostly with a strong, melodic voice, and he loved to laugh.
The lunch went without the feared embarrassment, which Rayan had painted in all colours in his thoughts. The main reason for the success was the relaxed atmosphere that both Tanners radiated.
Only once did Rayan blush, when Clara’s mother asked him if he had a girlfriend. To be the centre of attention like that was unusual for him and he did not like it at all. Especially as the General focused his intense gaze in his direction as well. He had no idea what to reply.
Clara came to his help: "Mum. Don’t be so curious. Yasin has one girlfriend or the other all the time. I just can’t tell them apart anymore.“ Along with that explanation she rolled her eyes in fake desperation, which made everyone at the table laugh out loud.
When evening came Rayan went home. The hours had just flown by. During the farewell the General took him aside and said with a concerned look in his eyes: “Please keep your eyes open, we have received a threat. So far we do not know how serious we should take the message. It could just be some crazy guys that think it is a good joke. But you are surely aware that the presence of the American army around here is a thorn in some people’s side. There might indeed be incidents. Take care of Clara, okay?“
Rayan nodded quickly but did not say anything. He went home lost in thought and noted to himself to keep his eyes and ears wide open.
2014 - Rub’al Khali, Oasis Wahi – Meeting in the Oasis
After four days the caravan finally reached the oasis called Wahi, south of Dubai.
The nearer they got the quieter Carina and Hatem became. The troop of riders had a one day head-start and the critical question was: how much faster were the horses in comparison to the camels. What if they had already left the oasis? Then they would have to sit out there for some weeks. This was because the caravan would head onwards and to get back all alone was much too dangerous.
Therefore it was a relief when they saw beside the Wahi inhabitants’ small huts and houses the tents of the Tarmans on the other side of the oasis. As was the custom, the banner of Zarifa was flying visibly above them, so misidentification was not possible.
Hatem was growing more and more nervous because he had no real idea how to explain this whole story. He had personally never met His Excellency before but had heard rumours of men the Sheikh had killed for less.
Also, the leader of the Tarmans was known for his severe punishments: more than one man had had to suffer the whip on his orders. So it was not only because of the barely tolerable heat that there was sweat on Hatem’s brows.
They said farewell to the leader of the caravan, thanked him and, as promised, sold him their camels. Then they went on foot to the camp on the other side of a small waterhole, beside some palm trees. As they came nearer they observed that the tents were different in their shapes and sizes.
In the middle were a few bigger ones, in which a man could easily stand up and walk around. Further to the edges were really small ones, for one or two persons only.
As they approached, a man with a rifle over his shoulder stood into their way.
Carina could not follow the exchange in Arabic, but the guard did not seem to be very friendly and for sure was not happy at all to see them. She was glad that she was still dressed like a man, as Hatem had advised her, because she felt that a reaction like his would have been even less favourable as a woman.
What would they do if the men refused to take them along? And left them here in the oasis? She had been bluffing when she assured Hatem that she was absolutely sure that the Sheikh kept strictly to the rules of the desert, which demand that you have to show hospitality to strangers in need of help. And even more important: who said they really needed help? At least they were here in an oasis where they could get food and water and a place to stay.
Right now Carina wasn’t so sure anymore and she asked herself for the 100th time whether it would turn out to be one of her "short-circuit-ideas“ that had caused her to get into trouble in the past.
Finally the guard called out to another man, talked in a low voice to him and sent him … where? She did not dare to think about it.
They were standing around for a while, the guard did not say anything but made it clear only with this body language that he had no interest in talking and definitely would not let them take even one step further. The minutes felt like an eternity, when finally the second man came back. He signalled to them to follow him.
Carina could not understand his words, but she derived from his gestures that he would lead them somewhere. Her mind was working overtime. To whom would they be guided? She found it frightening not being able to understand anything, and Hatem could hardly talk to her in English now, after all she was officially his nephew Hassan.
The man brought them to one of the bigger tents and as they already guessed from the outside, it was big enough for a tall man to stand easily upright.
Carina could hear the sound of her heart beating when she slipped inside through the drapes. Who or what would wait for her there?
She felt full of excitement about the discussion she had had with the Sheikh in the plane on their flight here, even without recognising him. He seemed to have a sense of humour after all.
That was how she tried to calm herself down. Yet out of the deepest part of her mind crept the grisly picture of the tortured man beside the road and she asked herself again: "What kind of man does something like that?!“
As soon as her eyes had adjusted to the darkness inside, she realised that the tent was empty. Their guard told them to stay there and wait and then left them alone. Hatem took advantage of the situation and updated her in a low voice: "I told them that I have an important message for His Excellency – the guard will now get the second man in command, the Sheikh’s “right hand” if you like. He is the leader of the warriors whenever the Sheikh is not there. They would not tell me if His Excellency himself is actually here. They were not talking a lot anyway and, honestly, I have no idea what they will do to me as soon as they realise that I have lied …” The worried look on his face made Carina’s heart pound. She had not thought about it that she might put Hatem in danger. Her new friend wanted to say something else, but at that moment the curtain was pulled to the side and their guard held it respectfully open for another man.
She could understand his greeting and introduction, that much Arabic she had learned. “My name is Hanif al Hamid – I am the leader of these warriors and I am speaking in the name of the honourable Sheikh, His Excellency Rayan Suekran al Medina y Nayran.“
Hatem bowed very low and spoke the common words of greeting with special reverence. His voice was shaking. Carina also bowed but did not say anything. When she stood back upright, Hanif looked her directly in the eye for a moment and she knew instinctively that he had seen through her masquerade. He directed his question to Hatem and asked with a suddenly icy voice: "What is going on here?!“
1990 - Rabea Akbar – All dams burst
The threat was a great limitation for Rayan in the following days. No matter if it was inbound or outbound, there were strict controls when entering or leaving the premises. This went for people as well as for vehicles.
For example, controls for the Humvees, with which they normally did their excursions, were installed using mirrors to see the vehicles from underneath.
Additionally there were sniffer dogs that were sniffing for explosives.
Furthermore, the general controls were intensified within the city and also into the surrounding desert, so he was on duty almost every day.
About three weeks after his visit to Clara’s parents the first car bomb exploded, right in front of the General’s house. It was obvious that he had been the target and it was only thanks to the extra guards that were put in front of his house that no one was hurt.
From this day on Clara was only allowed to go out accompanied by two personal security officers, which reduced their time together even more.
Therefore it was a great relief and Rayan was happy when Clara sent him a message some days later. She informed him that she was planning to leave the base right after mass on Sunday to visit the bazaar and she would be pleased if he could join her.
As he was a Muslim and he did not attend the service inside the base, they agreed that he would go ahead and meet her later at the fountain on the eastern edge of the market.
The bazaar of Rabea Akbar was one of the highlights in this otherwise very quiet town and took place every Sunday morning. The date was a result of the American soldiers who usually all went to church and had some free time afterwards. This was a good opportunity to spend part of their pay in the bazaar. Normally the holy day of the week for the local people was Fridays, but they had adapted to holding the market according to their customers. The square was rectangular and one stand was right next to the other. The smell of spices, herbs and all different kinds of food were mixed with the odour of animals and a lot of people.
Carpets, lamps and garments were offered, as well as chickens, camels and jewels.
Those who did not haggle over the price had themselves to blame if they were cheated.
Also the sounds were typical for a bazaar: there was total chaos in the cheering of the merchants who tried to compete with their neighbours, mixed with animal sounds and car horns. It seemed that someone was always trying to drive right through the market in spite of the prohibition of vehicles.
Visitors were either on foot or came with rusty old cars from far away; some even came with donkeys like in the old times.
Rayan was sitting on the edge of the fountain. He had already roamed through the market and admired the different goods.
He loved that kind of turmoil. Even though he usually preferred the quietness of the desert, he liked the colourful action, which was so similar to the same kind of bazaars in the oases. This reminded him of when he had joined the merchants from Zarifa as a little child.
The basin of the fountain was only two meters long and went in a semicircle to the nearest wall of one of the houses, which was why the water was in the shade. Rayan took advantage of that because it was already becoming hot again.
He looked at the mosaic of little tiles, but he had to admit that it did not really tell him anything. It was Clara that usually remarked on these features and berated him for always being “a typical man” when he was not impressed by them. He was just about to put his hand playfully into the water, when an explosion made the market shake.
The blast’s power was so strong that he was thrown backward from the fountain’s pond onto the ground. When he tried to get up again he had to shake his head several times to get rid of the dizziness that had taken hold of him. He had a ringing sound in his ears but fortunately after some time it disappeared. It seemed like he had been far enough away. He tried to comprehend from which direction the explosion had come. Thanks to Allah the market had not been the target, because everywhere people, who had also been dragged to the ground by the blast or had thrown themselves there in panic and hope for cover, started to get up again. .
There was chaos everywhere. Horses bolted and ran around the stands, chickens and other poultry were fluttering around wildly. Rayan could hear single cries, but he was not sure from which direction they were coming. He supposed that some just gave vent to their fright, without really being injured.
As he turned around and looked down the street behind him, he could see at a distance of about 100 meters away the burning left-overs of a car.
Full of terror Rayan realised that this was the way that led to the base. It was the path the American soldiers would take after mass to get to the market. The street in which Clara would come along as well. Fear coiled up in his throat and he started to run to the site. As he got nearer he could see that the assassination had been targeted towards a group of Americans. More than one injured man was lying on the ground, moaning full of pain. Others did not move at all.
Some meters away from the car wreck he found Clara. Obviously the body of one of her personal guards had partly saved her from the explosion. The man had been heavy and his hair had been red, as far as was still recognizable. He must have been killed immediately.
Rayan bent his knees downwards and took Clara’s head into his lap. He tried to smooth the shaking sound within his voice and to talk to her reassuringly, but he could see immediately that no doctor would be able to help her anymore. She tried to speak and he brought his ear down so he could understand her. “Yasin – I love you … from the very first moment I have loved you”, she whispered weakly. He forced an agonized smile: “I know! From the very first moment I knew it.” She tried to smile but a last cramp went through her body and then she lay still. Stunned as if under the influence of drugs, he only partly realised that all around him helpers were arriving, who began to extinguish the fire and to attend to the injured. Someone cried loudly for an ambulance. It was like seeing through a dense fog. Rayan had not even cried at the death of his mother when he was just seven years old, but now he was weeping helplessly like a small child, as if all the dams had burst.
For the first time he let his tears run free and he cried for Clara, his mother and his whole damned life.
