ROCK THE CASBA (Part 3), a short story by Sun Tzu. Date added: 2011-11-29. Times viewed: 2268.
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- Intro: White Slavery, Action, Adventure & Intrigue in 1990's Morocco
ROCK THE CASBA
I awoke in a unfamiliar room, my head thumping like someone was inside with a pile driver. “Thumper Thump” I tried to stand but a heavy rush of dizziness, forced me to lie back.
“Easy my friend.” Came a familiar voice.
“Saleem?” Thank God for that I thought.
“I am pleased you are not too seriously injured.”
“Injured?” For a brief moment I didn’t understand, Then! “Meredith! those bastards grabbed her from right under me.” Another wave of dizziness hit me as I sat up. “How long have I been out?”
Saleem was quiet for a moment “Almost four hours, my friend.”
“Four Hours!” I exclaimed
“I am sorry, but it appears that we underestimated Kabire, he now has Miss Vana.”
“No Saleem”. I responded “It was I who underestimated Kabire, I won’t make that mistake again, I can assure you of that”. "I have no doubt”. Saleem replied “But you are in no condition to do anything about it at the moment” He paused “For the time being at least. Now you must rest”. I believe you should know that the Police wish to speak with you as soon as you feel up to it. Also there is a gentleman from the American Consulate, A Mr Jeff Banks, he claims to be a security liaison officer.”
I smiled “So that’s what they’re calling spooks these days”.
“Spook? What is Spook?” Inquired Saleem
“Mr Banks is the local CIA man, no doubt as keen to find the whereabouts of Miss Vana as we are”.
“This is not good my friend, not good at all, we cannot afford to have such men snooping around.” Exclaimed Saleem now looking extremely agitated
“Don’t worry Saleem, if my guess is right this guy is no more than some low level paper shuffler, at worst he’s an old field agent from the cold war days. In any case he won’t find out very much or be of any real threat.”
I lay on the bed for what seemed like hours, unable to sleep. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, gnawed at me from within. At first I put it down to my failure to protect Meredith from those three Arabs.
There had been four!
“YES!”. There had definitely been four.
I’d taken out two of them.
One had hold of Meredith.
The forth one!
The forth had hit me from behind!
Then had carried Meredith off!
In my minds eye I could see them, blurred from the blow to my head but, there never the less. There had been something about the fourth.
Something very familiar!
Dam it! If only I could remember!
As I sank into a restless haunted sleep, scenes and images appeared, some were of old times and places, faces of long departed friends.
A smiling face “Come on Nath it’s time to serve Queen and Country again, protect the free world and be home in time for tea.”
“Sparks?” I was surprised to see him.
He picked up his M16 and beckoned me to follow. “You coming?” He enquired. I quickly followed him.
My God they were closing in, I pulled at the unconscious figure dragging him along the sand. I looked down at the limp form ofSparks, blood gushing from his chest.
Gun fire! Sand and rock all around me. I hear angry voices in the background getting closer.
I’m sitting in a wooden stool. My wrists are crying out in pain from the wire wrapped so tightly around them. Secured behind my back cutting almost to the bone. A figure walks slowly towards me from the darkness, tall yet face less and sporting something shiny in their hand. Shiny and razor sharp. The figure walks around me round and round. Then, a sharp pain erupts from my back then another and another and another.
The screams of a man in the most tortuous agony.
The dream never ends.
Mocking voices, Rifle butts raining down over and over again the voices now becoming clear in broken English “Fuck you George Bush, Fuck you George Bush”.
The faces, Arab faces, evil satanic looking coming towards me from all sides. “John Major sucks cock”. They shout.
I have to run!
Try to hide! “Sparks!”
I have to get away! “Sparks, come on they’re closing in”.
“This is whisky two five! I need medi vac Priority!” I shout into the radio.
There is no where to go, nowhere to run too “Sparks?” The figure lies in the sand, blood flowing from a deep chest wound. I try to stem the blood, by placing a shell dressing over it.
“Hold onSparks, Hold on! Where’s that fucking Medi vac chopper?”
The dark figure appears and comes at me again, and again, the metal glinting. Pain!
Intense pain like red hot needles.
More blows more mocking voices. The wire cuts into my wrists.
More mocking laughter.
A face! An Arab face appears before me. “You bastard! You murdering Bastard! You killed my friend!” I scream and charge it. Hatred flows from every part of my body. My fingers close around his throat. I want to squeeze the life out of this face.“Fucking, Rag headed bastard I’m gonna kill you.”
I no longer care for my own life. My only aim is to take as many of these camel jockeys with me as I can.
Killing me won’t come cheap.
Hands grab me from all around, trying to pull me off, but I stay rigid squeezing, squeezing.
Meredith had no idea where she was, her head still pounded from the chloroform.
Time was an unknown factor. How long had it been since she’d been abducted? What had they done with Kent? She’d seen him hit from behind and go down. So many questions, and so few answers. Her captors had said little to her aside from angry Arabic when she had tried to fight them.
An act that had brought her a number of blows, and more angry Arabic.
As her senses slowly returned she began to get a feel for her surroundings. Well she figured they had used Chloroform on her. The sweet and sickly smell was everything she had heard it was. And how it seemed to remain, the sickly taste just hung about for ages her mind remained quite foggy.
Her captors had bound her with rope. Arms fastened tightly behind her back, biting deeply into her wrists and above her elbows. Her legs bound tightly at the ankles and above her knees. A tight material, like gag cut into the sides of her mouth. Saliva ran down her cheek. Darkness, for some reason Meredith couldn’t see, at first she though it was a darkened room, then she mentally reproached her self for being so stupid. As her mind cleared she could sense something pressing down upon her eyes, she was tightly blindfolded.
It had seemed like hours that she lay upon a cold hard surface, groggy weak and unable to move. She had tried, only to find herself able to twist a little. A wave of dizziness washed over her, her strength greatly depleted. If nothing her captors were very efficient, here she was a tall strong woman, now reduced to the strength and helplessness of a new born baby.
Some time later she’d been picked up and dragged to what she sensed was another room. Rough hands had ripped at her clothes, cold metal was, felt against her skin as they hacked and ripped her clothes from her.
Meredith tried to fight to struggle but it was impossible while being so tightly trussed up. She listened to a mixture of angry and happy Arabic, angry at her pathetic struggles, but also highly amused by the undressing of such an attractive captive.
Finally, Meredith could feel she was almost naked, hands over her body. Fondling her breasts; then running through her hair. Still weak and groggy she could do little to fight back.
She felt herself lifted up and then deposited face down on a mattress of some sort. Her arms were untied. Then pulled on to her back, her arms wrenched up over her head. Only to be re-secured either side of her head.
Then her legs were untied. Spread open tied again at the ankles. Meredith realised that she was going to be unable to stop what ever was going to happen to her next. Lying spread eagle, tightly bound, completely naked, gagged and blindfolded, she could only guess as to what was in store for her.
A gentle voice coaxed me from the darkness, gentle and inviting, a face bean to appear, a woman’s face. “Mr Kent Can you hear me?”
“Uh huh!” Was all I could manage.
The light began to get brighter now, my vision returning. My whole body was on fire, then it settled and all I felt was a relaxed sensation.
“He will be fine now”. One voice said
“Thank you doctor, I have been very worried for my friend.”
“I will return later when he has woken up.”
“Saleem?” I called out weakly.
“I am here, My friend.”
I could just make out his face, but something was wrong it was all covered in bruises.
“What happened to you? You look like you’ve done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson!”
“In a way I have.” He stated a little nervously. “You are a very strong man when you’re angry.”
“I attacked you?” I said. Shocked as I had no memory of doing so.
“It took three of my men to pull you off me, you were a mad man, shouting, I have never seen such anger, such savage fury.”
“I attacked you! I can’t believe it.” I said dumbfounded.
Saleem nodded as he sat down by my bed. “I heard noises from your room and came to see if you were ok. When I came in you were screaming, calling out to someone.” Saleem paused. “I called to you, when you turned towards me, your face was one of rage. You were like a man possessed.”
“I don’t remember.” I reply weakly. “I’m truly sorry Saleem.”
“I am somewhat concerned, as you accused me of killing your friend, someone calledSparks?”
“Sparks? My God! Sparks, I began to remember.”
“Do you wish to tell me about it?” Enquired Saleem.
“ Not just yet.” I replied. “Please forgive me Saleem.”
“Of course, you are my friend.”
Nothing more was to be said on the subject.
In an instant it hit me. “Saleem do you still have the photos of Kabire?”
“Yes I will get them.” A confused expression appeared on Saleems face.
The memories began to return the desert, explosions,Sparks, and the Dark Faceless Figure.
The photos. There was Kabire, and next to him was a woman, but her features were not very clear. The Photographer had concentrated only on Kabire.
There was something about the woman!
“Do you have any clearer photos of the woman?” I ask.
“Yes,” he replied thumbing through the pile of prints, her name is Salma, she is Kabires head of security, there are many rumours circulating about her.”
“Rumours? What do they say?” I ask slowly searching for a clearer photo.
“They say she once worked for Saddam Hussein himself.”
The last photo showed her face in close up, there was no mistaking those dark eyes and the long dark hair. My subconscious had been trying to tell me something and now I understood.
The visions had been a message.
It was her I had no doubt now, the forth figure who hit me and kidnapped Meredith.
Above all she was the dark figure in my dreams the one that carried the silver razor sharp cutter.
My mind raced to piece things together.
I now saw her standing over me with glinting piece of metal in her hand. I force myself to focus on the metal. My minds eye now homing in on it and there in her hand is a barbers cut-throat razor.
The dark figure, my interrogator and torturer had been a woman and a very dangerous woman at that.
“Saleem the rumours are true.” I said slowly. “She did once work for Saddam Hussein. Only her name isn’t Salma, it’s Salamar. Major Jeia Salamar formerly of the Iraqi Peoples Army”. I pause for a moment. “Also known as the Butcher of Kuwait.”
It had been over 8 eight years since I had found myself in this woman’s clutches. And now she was about to come face to face with one of her former captives. What a small world it was. I had no idea how Meredith was or even if she was still alive. But I made a promise to my self there and then that no matter what. This Salamar or what ever the hell she’s calling herself now would pay dearly. For both myself and Meredith.
To Be Cont…
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