Captive

“Don’t be upset, it’s not worth it,” Josh said to me. I was feeling so stupid in my long blue dress. I hated the whole idea of prom; I really didn’t want to go. It wasn’t my kind of thing. But all my friends were going, and my friend Derek who had promised to pick me up, bailed on me last minute.

“Come on, I’ll take you,” Josh smiled. He had just gotten back home from work and was still in his uniform.

“No, that would be weird!” I said incredulously and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why? Who said a brother can’t take his sister to a party? It’s just a party, who cares.”

“A stupid party. How about you take me to a real party, bro? I’ll be 18 in less than two weeks!” I asked hopeful and my big brother rolled his eyes.

I’ve always nagged him about going out with him and his friends but his answers were always, “No, you’re still too young,” “no, my friends are all men and I don’t like to hurt them,” “nope, you can’t drink.”

Josh sighed and squeezed his eyes. “Fine, I’ll make you an exception tonight. But there are some rules. One beer, no dancing with my friends, and you’ll be wearing none of your short skirts, got it, kid?”

I jumped in excitement and hugged him. “I promise! I promise!”

“Wait, am I missing something here? Do you like one of my friends? Is that why you’re always asking to join? Is it Ryan? Andy?” Josh continued his interrogation the whole drive to the pub.

It was there at the pub that he got the call that changed everything. It was the night I had my first beer, but also the night that changed my life. I would always remember that evening as the time my big brother was stolen away from us for good.

*****

Something bad was always bound to happen around my birthday. I was convinced that my birthday was a curse, but every time I said that, my mom scolded me. Tomorrow was supposed to be my 26th birthday. Where was she now to see for herself?

I continued to sharpen the end of the plastic spoon against the wall. It was a pathetic weapon but I needed to keep busy. Crosby has been gone for hours.

Prisoners of war who have survived spoke of all kinds of emotional and physical torture they’ve endured. But no one has really said much about loneliness. It’s the type of the emotional torture that you’re not really prepared for. Us, humans, are social creatures; for the hundreds of thousands of years we have lived on this earth, our survival has always depended on one another.

As I sat on the cold prison floor, I was convinced, more than ever, that a person could actually die from loneliness. With no one to talk to, no one to share your emotions with, no one to share hope with, anyone would break down.

What would I do all alone in here? How long will it take for me to break down? What kind of fate should I prepare myself for?

Okay, the spoon seems sharp enough to kill an unsuspecting mouse.

Will they torture me into giving intel?

That broccoli looks like an actual tree.

God, my head was spinning. I was sleep-deprived and my brain lacked sugar. Random thoughts were swirling around inside my head.

Then, I heard it. The sound I knew all too well. For a fleeting hopeless moment, I questioned whether it was real or the product of my imagination.

The cell door opened and despite the weakness in my legs, I found enough strength to pull myself up when I saw Crosby standing there with the mailman behind him busy untying his hands and removing his blindfold.

Crosby stood still after the mailman left. I stared at him for a few seconds before his tired eyes crinkled slightly and a small smile appeared. He opened his arms slowly for me and I hugged him for dear life. He kept his arms around me for a long time. “Are you okay?” My voice broke as I looked at his face. He nodded slowly.

I inspected him from head to toe and passed my shaking hands over his shoulders and arms, making sure that he was really there.

“What happened?” I asked as we sat on the bed. He held his head in his hands and sniffled, hiding his face away from me. “What did they do to you? Please tell me,” I asked, my own tears sliding down my face.

Wiping at his eyes and nose, he rubbed his already red face and looked at me. “They made me announce to the world that I am their prisoner and that my life is in their hands.”

My ears perked at this new development. “Tell me exactly what they made you say,” I asked as calmly as I could.

“I don’t know, they made me read it, I…” he was clearly still shaken by the recent events.

“Okay, take a few minutes, but you need to remember everything you saw, heard and said.”

He nodded and laid on his back. I ran my fingers through his hair; it was all the encouragement he needed to rest his head in my lap. I was dying to know what happened, but I couldn’t push him, he seemed quite traumatized.

“I never told you about Josh,” I said instead of nagging for answers. I kept on stroking his hair as he turned to look up at me.

“The guy you talk about in your sleep?”

“What?”

“Yeah. I’m assuming he’s an ex since you’re single?”

“No, he’s my big brother.”

“You have an older brother?”

I nodded and took a deep steadying breath before I spoke about Josh. “He was a military officer too.”

“Was? He retired?” Crosby asked as he shifted in my lap, giving me his full attention.

I shook my head no. I refused to shed tears when I spoke about my brother. He was a hero and I should be proud of his sacrifice rather than upset about it. Crying was also the last thing Josh would have wanted me to do. But every time I willed myself not to cry, I failed.

I wiped my tears furiously and continued. “Five years ago, he was injured during a classified operation here, in this very country. For months, we had no news about him. We did not know whether he was dead or alive. It turned out that he was captured by Al-Qaida. And after months of searching, he was found dead in a desert near Arbil.”

Crosby sat up and gathered me in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said softly, I could hear the sadness in his raspy voice.

“Later, we’ve learned that he managed to escape the prison where he was tortured for 3 months. I believe my brother refused to give the enemy any intel or die at their hands. He chose to risk dying in the desert than to remain their captive.”

“He must have been a brave man,” Crosby said as he cradled my face against his chest.

“He was fearless and ready to do whatever it took to protect his crew. They called him The Tiger. It’s very hard for me to talk about him,” I said as I looked at my hands. “But I’m telling you this because I refuse for us to die at their hands,” I added, my voice rising with resentment. “I just can’t do this to my family again. They cannot go through another heartache.”

Crosby rubbed my back and rested his chin on top of my head. “Your last name is Shaw.”

“Yeah?” I gave him a questioning look.

“Things are starting to make sense. I heard them say your last name today. It was the same man who spoke good English, the man you think is the boss. He said something about you being a ‘Shaw’, a notorious name in the Canadian Air Forces. I guess you may be here for the same reason I am.”

“You’ve got to give me more, Crosby!” I asked him, getting impatient.

“They want our armed forces to release two of their prisoners in exchange for my life.”

“Okay. Okay,” my mind started analyzing. “We sort of expected that they would have demands. Who are they affiliated with? Did they say the names of the prisoners?”

Crosby went on telling me about everything that has transpired, from how they took him, to what he heard and saw. According to his description, they walked him to a building nearby where they kept him handcuffed and blindfolded for the most part.

He estimated five or six men present in the room he was in at some point. He heard chatter in Arabic mixed with some English but he could not decipher what has been said, except that he knew they were talking about us.

“I heard them talk. The English-speaking man, I recognized his voice and the way he spoke. He’s not an Iraqi, there is no way he grew up here. He didn’t say much, but maybe he wasn’t in the room the whole time. I do believe he’s the boss.

“They walked me to what I assumed was another room and removed my blindfold this time. But the only person there was the guy who brings us food. He sat me at a table and switched my handcuffed hands from behind my back to my lap, where they could not be seen under the table. I had a local newspaper between my fingers. Facing me was a video cam and a large cardboard sign hung on the wall. It looked like a scene from a movie.”

Crosby paused and took a deep breath. My heart was racing as I listened to his recount of the events.

“What did the sign say?” I asked eagerly.

“It read something like: I’m Sidney Crosby and I’ve been taken hostage. I am not being tortured. I am not hurt. I am well treated. But my freedom will depend on the Canadian government and armed forces complying with the following demands: Selman Ali and Khalid Ali are to be released immediately from the custody of Canadian Air Forces in Baghdad as they are innocent of all the charges against them.

“They are to be safely transported back to Canada. The RCMP will provide the necessary guarantees that they will not be arrested upon their return. Until all those demands have been met, my life and safety will remain at the mercy of my keepers. My safe return home depends on the Canadian government and armed forces. My life in exchange for the freedom and safety of the Ali brothers.”

“The Ali brothers?” I asked shocked, and Crosby nodded slowly.

“Oh my god, I know them! I… they’re at the base. I..”

“Who are they? What have they done to be in prison?”

“They, I …it’s …” I couldn’t find my words, too flustered by the new information.

“What is it, Mia? Speak up!”

“They’re Canadians, born and raised,” I started.

“What?!”

“Our Forces got intel that they joined ISIS back in February. The British Forces captured them and they were transferred into our custody a few weeks ago,” I explained as Crosby listened intently, his eyes impossibly large.

“I personally provided the medical care they needed at the time of their arrest. I usually get briefed about the patients I’m treating, for my own safety, but I’m not given enough military or political details. This is all I know about them.”

“So, ISIS is demanding their release?”

“Did you hear anything about ISIS in their conversation?”

“No, but again, I don’t understand Arabic.”

“I doubt that they are. If they were ISIS, they would gladly announce that it was them who abducted you. It’s not the case, right? It’s not them, it’s not their style.”

“So, who wants them freed?”

I pondered this very relevant question. “The boss man. He spoke perfect English. He’s likely Canadian. He must be tied to them somehow.”

“If he’s tied to them, it means he’s with ISIS. Why wouldn’t ISIS do something about it? Is he on his own? Does he work with another group?”

“I don’t know. He certainly isn’t on his own though. He has soldiers following his orders.”

“What does our government do with the Canadians who join terrorist groups?”

I sighed. It was a legit question to which the answer was too complicated. I didn’t even know at times what was protocol and what was not. It’s an emerging issue that our forces and government are dealing with. There’s even a task force put in place for that purpose.

“There are protocols in place for those situations, but the way the armed forces and RCMP deal with those individuals is really on a case-by-case basis. It’s extremely complicated; they need to insure the safety of the convicts while making sure that they’re not posing any threats to our national security. So, there’s usually a long investigation that takes place here before they’re sent back home.

“Our forces need to gather enough evidence to decide on an immediate arrest upon their return to Canada. Sometimes, even after they’re back and during the trials, the government may send officers back into the field to gather more evidence. We’re very diligent in investigating our citizens and their ties to terrorism in order to ensure that justice is well served.”

Crosby had a concentrated look as if trying to absorb what I’m saying without panicking.

“Where was my name mentioned in all of this?” I asked as I attempted to piece together the new information.

“I was still blindfolded. It was part of the conversation that was mostly in Arabic. The boss would switch to English at times. Sorry, what I told you earlier was all I got.”

We sat in silence for a bit. Crosby rested against the wall while I paced around, dissecting the new knowledge he brought.

“Did they mention any deadline? Any specifics on how they wanted the exchange to happen.”

Crosby sighed and shook his head.

“I’m not surprised. It must be part of their tactic. They won’t give up too much information at first. They want to instill fear and doubt. They want the government to take them seriously. With time, our government and armed forces will be facing more pressure to get you back to safety and only then would the terrorist would dictate their terms.”

“I have so many questions. I don’t even… please explain to me. Are the Ali bothers really guilty? Will the government check faster, for my sake? What will happen when they watch the recording?”

I sat next to Crosby and ran my hand through my hair, tugging at it in frustration. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists. It’s plain and simple. If the Ali brothers are guilty, they will not be released, regardless of the situation. They will go to prison and serve their sentence.”

“What?” Crosby asked shocked.

“Prisoners of war are often militants, rarely civilians, and even more rarely, celebrities. I don’t know if this will change anything for the government. But as militants, we are aware of these terms and have agreed to them. So as far as military ops go, our armed forces will not negotiate any deal, regardless of who you are or what the terrorist threaten to do to you. We do not negotiate with them.”

“So, our army, who are supposed to keep us safe, will leave us here to die?” Crosby yelled outraged.

“They will do everything in their power to find us, we leave no one behind. But they do not and will not give terrorists the upper hand.”

“Find us? As in, alive or dead?”

When I sighed, Crosby asked, “What if the Ali brothers were really innocent?”

“A Canadian court of law is the only authority who will have a say in this matter. They will have to go through the process with the Forces and the RCMP to prove their innocence, as I explained to you earlier.”

I sighed heavily as the reality of the situation was becoming clearer in my mind. “We’re gonna be here for a while, Crosby.”

“No! I cannot take this anymore. I can’t! We should escape this place, we cannot stay here and wait until our government is done with paperwork!”

“I don’t want to stay here either, but please calm down,” I said faintly as I rubbed my temples.

“Calm down? How does this not infuriate you? You, who gave her life to the army, you leave your family to come to this messed up part of the world and for what? You gave up everything for your country, hell, your brother died for it, is this how you’re thanked?!”

“Don’t bring my brother into this! Do you hear me?!” I stood up and yelled an inch away from his red face. “You know nothing about my sacrifice or what my family has given for our country, so shut the hell up!”

At that moment, I wished that our prison was larger, I wished we had another room, I wished I could just open that door, just so I can storm out and scream out my anger. Maybe I just wished that I was not imprisoned in here at all, between these four walls that were closing in on me as time went by.

Instead, I stood at the window and tightened my fingers around the metal bars. I remained planted in front of the only connection we had to the outside world, breathing in the cold fresh air surrounding my prison.

How I longed to be outside, how I longed to be a small little bird, a tiny animal incapable of feeling this emotional pain, a small creature that could easily pass through these bars and escape free, away from the cruelty of mankind.

What would Josh do?

He would pull himself together and fight back. He would think about Jamie and Livvy, about mom and dad. He would be patient and hopeful that help would come, that our Forces would never leave anyone behind, that each officer had sworn a sacred oath and they will see to it, no matter the cost.

“Just when you think life cannot be more unfair, it proves you wrong,” I finally said, still watching the birds outside.

When Crosby did not respond, I turned around to see him on his knees, his arms around his head on the bed.

“You know, the Ali brothers, I… I tended to their needs. I treated their wounds. I made sure they ate well. And I did it all with a smile. The sad thing is, even if I had known that their mere presence in our custody would have led to this hostage operation, I would still have helped them.

“Because this is what we do, Crosby, this is our oath; we help everyone, even those who would take the first opportunity to stab us in the back. These are the values we live by. So, rest assured, my crew will not rest until they find us. Our troops will not stop searching for us. They will never give up. Meanwhile, all we have to do, you and me, is try our best to survive.”

Crosby finally straightened up and looked at me. “We keep our heads down but our eyes open,” he said.

“Exactly,” I nodded. “They’re bound to make a mistake, and when they do, who knows, we may be able to make the best of it.”

*****

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” I whispered as we laid on our backs, shoulder to shoulder in bed that night.

“I’m sorry I yelled too,” Crosby whispered back.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said, turning towards him, “when the man comes in tomorrow, I will ask him to see the boss,” I continued as I played with the edge of the blanket.

“To do what?” Crosby asked as he propped his head and looked at me with a frown on his face.

“I suspect the boss would like to know more about the whereabouts of the Ali brothers. I’m not sure if he’s aware that I’ve met them. That may interest him. I may have information that he wants. So, I may be able to negotiate something with him. I’m a smooth talker.”

Crosby scoffed in response. “Honestly? You’re anything but a smooth talker, Mia. A spitfire, if anything, but smooth? Nope, I’m afraid it’s not your thing,” he said boldly. I thought he was joking, but his tone was quite serious.

“I’m worried that you’ll make things worse for us,” he added.

“You don’t know me, okay?” I said irritated.

“I’ve seen enough,” he muttered under his breath.

I huffed and left the bed snatching the only pillow with me as a sign of protest. I sat under the window and put my head on that sad excuse of a pillow and leaned against the wall.

“Yeah, you’re real smooth. Mature, too,” he mumbled.

That was the last we spoke that night.

*****

Today was my birthday, and unlike previous ones, I knew in advance that something bad was going to happen. I was almost counting on it. In your face, fate.

I ignored Crosby’s last night remarks and took matters into my own hands as soon as our mailman arrived with the food tray.

“I have information on the Ali brothers. Tell your boss I’m willing to discuss it with him,” I said, my voice unwavering despite the scowl Crosby has sent my way.

The mailman expression remained as passive as ever. He looked at me for a second then turned his back to leave.

“Tell him that I saw them!” I called after him, making sure he left intrigued enough to deliver my message.

“You’re gonna get yourself, well both of us, into trouble. I thought your plan was to sit tight,” Crosby snapped at me once the mailman had left the premises.

“I said to wait and learn what they want. Now that we have, it’s time to act,” I said, trying to remain calm as I sensed the storm was coming.

“You’re like inviting them to torture whatever information you have out of your goddam mouth,” Crosby scolded as he circled around me, his tone was livid.

I decided to ignore him. I cannot let myself get all worked up every single time he opened his stupid mouth.

“Are you even willing to share intel with them? Isn’t that against your sacred oath?” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

What infuriated me and changed my decision of ignoring him was that the asshole used air quotes when he said “sacred oath.”

“You know nothing about military ops, you have no knowledge of military tactics, and most importantly, you have no fucking idea about the oath we take,” I hissed, getting so very angry. I don’t remember if I’ve ever been this angry in my life. It’s coming from someone who’s witnessed cruel war crimes.

“And you have no fucking idea how smooth I can be!” I continued with my outburst. “I can be so fucking smooth that you will do as I say, and you know what the best part is? You won’t even realize that you’re playing by my rules,” I said, glowering at him that he couldn’t even blink, let alone move a muscle.

“You see those medals? Do you think I got them because I was a pretty little girl or a “spitfire”? No, I can assure you that I’ve earned each and every one of them!”

Then, I got closer to him. He gulped but remained still with his weary eyes fixated on mine. “So, if you have a better plan, do share.”

When he didn’t answer, I took a step back. “Very well, then stay out of my way and more importantly, stop testing my patience,” I added with a lower, yet firm tone that somehow only a military officer can pull off.

He may be the greatest athlete that the world has ever seen, but here, in Iraq, in enemy’s quarters, I knew better than he’ll ever learn. Crosby has no other option but to trust me if he wanted to survive. I cannot believe I was making out with this man yesterday. I shuddered at the thought.

I grabbed a sandwich and ate as I paced around the cell. I was so tired of sitting. Crosby, on the other hand, leaned his forehead against a wall; his hands were balled into fists next to his face. He remained utterly silent while I drank my water and ate my apple.

Then, as I was tossing the remnants of my food in the garbage bag set in one of the corners, Crosby started taking off his clothes, knowing fully well that I could see him. I kept my eyes on him, daring him to take all of his clothes off in front of me, but he seemed quite okay with the idea. When his fingers reached his briefs’ waistband, I forfeited the staring contest and turned away.

With my arms crossed, I stared at the wall as he showered. I tried to envision what my encounter with the boss man would be like. I was nervous, a little nauseous even, but I had to do it. I was not going to sit here and wait for things to get better. I had to act.

When the shower was off, I gave Crosby a few minutes to get dressed.

“I need you to know that I have tons of respect for the armed forces. I did not mean to offend you or disregard your commitment. Both of my grandparents were veterans.”

I turned around to see him in his briefs. He looked much calmer but his face held some concern.

“But you’re right, I’m no military man; you are. So, I’m not gonna stand in your way,” he added, his eyes were soft on me. “But please, keep in mind that you want to smooth-talk the asshole who said that you’re the most beautiful woman in Baghdad. Doesn’t that alarm you, not even a little?”

I nodded faintly. “Look, it’s not the best idea, but it’s a chance I have to take. We don’t have many options,” I spoke as calmly. It was possible that Crosby was being thoughtful and kind, or it could have simply been out of selfishness since my wellbeing was tied to his.

He took a few steps closer and stopped two feet away. He seemed hesitant. Was he afraid that I punch him?

He was still dripping wet. My eyes followed a bead of water as it tumbled from his forehead, on his nose and down to his plump lips. My gaze travelled back to his eyes and I gulped.

“He may hurt you,” he whispered. “What will you do if he tried? Do you have a plan?”

I shook my head and looked at my feet. “It depends on the scenario. But it will not come to that. He may be reasonable,” I said weakly.

“But he may not be,” Crosby said insistently, though his voice remained low.

“I trust my instincts. And you just said you will stay out of the way.”

Crosby lifted his arms up, “Okay. You know it may not get to that, he may not even accept to talk to you,” he smirked. Was he hoping my plan fails?

“Oh, but he will. You just wait and see.”

And wait we did, for two more weeks to be accurate.

Notes

HO HO HO!

Happy Holidays my dear readers! I hope everyone is enjoying this break with their loved ones :)

XOXO

Charlie