Path of Jen: Bloodborne (13 page)

Maria took off her hijab and also set it on
the desk. She turned and faced Jen. “Jena, I am here to be your
friend. You are an esteemed guest here. There are rules, of course,
but I will be your guide and your companion. Would you like
that?"

Jen couldn’t help but smile. “A friend? Yes!”
she nodded emphatically. “Maria, what is this place?”

Maria smiled and considered her words before
answering. “This is a special place. Only very special people are
brought here. Like you must be, Jena. I don’t know much more than
you do about why you are here, but I know the doctor. He only
brings special people here, and they are always treated well." She
took her hijab in her hand and said, “Now, would you like to take a
walk and see for yourself?”

“Yes! Please,” said Jen with a genuine smile.
“Shouldn’t I be taking a purse or a phone or something?”
she
thought. She glanced around the small room looking for anything she
should take along, but there was nothing. She chided herself for
reverting back to an American teenage girl so quickly.
“One
shower and I’m thinking about my cell phone again!"
It was
actually a little bit liberating to know she didn’t have anything
to keep track of or lose.

She followed Maria out of the apartment and
down a hallway. There were other doors like the one leading to her
apartment, and she assumed they opened to rooms similar to hers.
“I wonder who my neighbors are?”
she mused. At the end of
the hallway there was a locked door. Maria pressed a call button
next to the door and the door buzzed open. Jen noticed a small
camera above the door.

Jen followed Maria out into a wider, brightly
lit hallway. The floor was paved smooth with polished white tiles
and the walls had bumper rails on either side, running the entire
length. “Is this a hospital?” Jen asked.

“Very good!” praised Maria. “This is a clinic
of sorts,” she said with a smile. “Come on, the doctor asked me to
bring you to see him." Maria swept her arm toward the far end of
the hall to a pair of double doors.

Jen walked beside Maria to the end of the
hall and through the doors. Through the passageway they stepped
into a cluttered laboratory. Jen saw the doctor leaned over a
microscope just left of the doorway. He looked up and smiled at Jen
and Maria. “Welcome!” he said with enthusiasm. “Jena, please come
and sit." He gestured at a chair just beyond where he was standing.
“I would like to take a sample of your blood, if that’s okay. We
are doing some very important research and it is rare to find a
subject around here that has not had a smallpox vaccine. You also
contain different antibodies, being American, than the subjects I
am usually provided with." He gestured in a broad circle to include
the whole place.

Jen nodded in agreement and took a seat in
the chair the doctor indicated. She pulled up one white sleeve of
her dress and lay her hand, palm up on her thigh. The doctor
hurried to gather the phlebotomy supplies he would need to make the
draw. While he was looking for his materials, Maria moved to stand
next to Jen.

“Are you okay with this Jena?” she asked. She
looked at Jena with concerned eyes and placed a hand on her
arm.

Jen smiled reassuringly to her and said, “I
don’t mind needles. Really, I am okay.”

The doctor returned and scooted over to her
on a rolling chair. He took her arm and checked the inside of her
elbow for a prominent vein. He seemed to find what he needed and
quickly applied a rubber tourniquet above her elbow. He took a
large needle out of his lab coat and discarded the protective
sheath. With steady hands and practiced movements, he pricked her
arm and pierced the vein. Within a few seconds he had a full draw
tube and removed the needle. With his other hand he pressed a
cotton ball onto the wound. “Hold this,” he instructed. “Keep
pressure."

Jen held the cotton in place obediently until
the doctor placed a piece of white tape over it. She watched as he
injected her blood into three smaller vials. He placed them into a
little stand with holes just the right size to hold the vials and
turned toward the microscope. Taking the needle once again, he
pressed the plunger to squeeze one last drop onto a clear glass
slide. He placed a thin cover glass over it and placed it under the
scope. Looking at Maria he nodded his head slightly toward the door
and then bent over to peer into the microscope.

Jen felt Maria gently take her arm and pull
her to her feet. Maria held a finger to her lips for silence and
motioned toward the door. Jen thought it was a bit strange, but
obeyed without hesitation.

Once they were outside in the hall, Maria
laughed, “I’m sorry Jena. I should have warned you. The doctor is a
little strange sometimes, but he means well. You should have seen
your face!”

Jen’s guard immediately went down and she
giggled along with Maria. She was actually having fun! “What’s
next?” she asked. “Is there anything else to see? Am I allowed to
go outside?”

Maria stopped and looked at her surprised.
“Yes! Of course you are!” she said. “Come on! Let’s go outside,”
she said. She took Jen by the arm and walked close beside her like
a good friend. “Now, when we go outside there will be men, Jena. We
have to be modest and proper at all times, okay? We can go outside,
but that privilege depends on our behavior." Jen nodded in
understanding.

“One more thing Jena,” Maria said. “While we
are outside we are going to visit a very important man." Jen turned
to look at Maria as they walked. “Don’t be afraid, Jena. He is a
gentle man. He is a holy man. I’m sure you will like him." Maria
led her to a lobby where two men dressed completely in black, stood
guard. They wore military style cargo pants tucked into the tops of
their boots and held AK-47 rifles at the ready. Jen looked down
politely. She noticed Maria do the same. The guards paid no
attention to the two women walking by.

Just before stepping outside, Maria took the
loose end of her hijab and covered her face. She showed Jena how to
do the same and they walked out into the sunlight together.

Stepping through the front doors, felt like a
dream to Jen. From the paved streets and sidewalks, to the
multi-story buildings and groomed trees and shrubs, everything was
different from what she knew for the last year. As they walked on a
sidewalk parallel to the hospital, Jen noticed armed guards in all
directions. She began to notice that although the area they were
walking through was quite large, especially in comparison to her
former compound, there were definite boundaries. Some streets were
blocked with concrete barriers and others had iron gates or razor
wire. All of the blockades were guarded or patrolled by soldiers in
black. Unlike the guards inside, these men had their heads and
faces covered in black masks.
“ISIS,”
thought Jen.
“They
look just like the Jihadis from TV."

One thing that made Jen uncomfortable as they
walked was that everyone seemed to stare at her. “I don’t think the
white dress was a good idea,” she said quietly to Maria. “Everyone
is staring."

Maria laughed and said, “You will have to get
over your insecurities Jena. You are a new face, that is all."

They were approaching what Jen recognized as
a mosque. The two women walked beyond the hospital grounds and past
another large single story building before coming to the front of a
stone building with a pointed arch doorway and a domed roof. She
recognized the Islamic architecture from history class. She
followed Maria up the steps to the large wooden door. Maria knocked
and they waited.

A middle aged man opened the door slightly
and obviously recognized Maria. He nodded and, speaking softly in
Persian, told them to wait. The door closed and Maria took Jen to
sit on a stone bench nearby. Maria explained that the man they were
waiting on was named Imam Hassan.

A few minutes later, an old man with white
hair and a neatly groomed white beard came out of the Mosque and
joined them. Jen followed Maria’s lead and stood when he
approached. They exchanged greetings and blessings before sitting
again. The Imam was dressed in a long black robe over a white tunic
and wore a warm smile on his weathered face. He wore silver glasses
and an expensive looking watch. Somehow he reminded Jen of a
grandfather; although she had never known hers, and she felt
completely comfortable speaking with him.

“Jena, has the meaning Little Bird. Did you
know that?” he asked in Farsi. His voice was gentle and
soothing.

“Yes,” she answered shyly. “My mother and
father called me that when I was younger.”

The old man smiled and nodded at Maria. Jen’s
companion touched Jen’s hand and walked away. Jen started to rise
and follow, but Imam Hassan laughed warmly and said, “Stay for a
while and speak with me, Jena. I have many questions for you. I am
curious about your family, your life, and your faith."

Jen awkwardly sat back down with the Imam and
did her best to answer his questions. She was limited by her
ability to speak and understand Farsi, but he was patient. He had a
knack for understanding her even when she had trouble articulating
a clear answer. They spoke at length about her family and growing
up in America. Jen could tell there were many things he didn’t
approve of, but he was not directly critical or judgmental. He
would sit an consider what Jen had answered and then pose a
thoughtful question. He had a way of making her question things she
had long taken for granted or believed blindly. After some time,
the conversation turned toward faith, and Jen became
uncomfortable.

“Jena, have you studied the Holy Koran?” he
asked. She fidgeted in her seat. Noticing her discomfort, he asked
a different question. “Did your father teach you in the ways of
Islam?”

“My father introduced me to Islam, and he
practiced it when he could…but I have never attended a Madrassa, or
studied the Koran diligently." She bowed her head, feeling sorry
for disappointing such a nice old man.

“Do not feel shame daughter,” he said kindly.
“Allah has brought you here for a reason. Perhaps this is the most
important. Jena, you will come here to this very spot every day at
this time and you will learn." He smiled at her and she couldn’t
help but respond in kind.

“
What is wrong with me?”
she thought
as she looked into those kind eyes.
“I am a captive! I am their
prisoner, and a even worse I am a Christian!"
Jen struggled
internally and had to look down.
“I have to get home! I have to
be strong and remember I am not their friend!”

“Jena?" he asked. “Is something wrong?" He
looked legitimately concerned.

Jen looked up met his querying gaze. Her mind
raced to find an explanation that wouldn’t give her thoughts away.
“I…,” she said. “I just miss home. Will I be allowed to go home
soon?”

Imam Hassan looked truly sorry. “That is not
something I can promise, daughter. It is better if you think of
this as home for now." He gestured around them.

Fouzia and Najid sat uncomfortably in
Congressman Seaver’s Dallas office. They sat near each other, but
to Fouzia they were as distant as they ever were. It was late
September and despite the encouraging report of Jena being alive
last June, Najid was still acting cold toward her. Each time they
met, Fouzia did her best to be patient and kind. She wanted to
remind him of the girl who he fell in love with so long ago, but he
simply couldn’t keep his temper. Each time she thought they were
making progress, he would find some reason to get upset and storm
out. Their meetings often ended with him shouting and Fouzia crying
once he was gone.

“What I am trying to say is that the team
that went in…they found evidence that she had been there, and we
think we might know where she was taken next." The congressman sat
back and waited for that to sink in.

“Are they trying to rescue her right now?"
Fouzia asked. She was sitting forward in her chair, eagerly waiting
for his answer.

The congressman looked at Fouzia, and then
turned his gaze to Najid. Najid had his head down and sat quietly
detached. He looked terrible. His clothes were wrinkled and he had
not shaved. Looking back to Fouzia the Congressman Seaver said,
“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid." He leaned forward and put his
elbows on his desk. “We believe she is in one of ISIL’s strongholds
in Iraq. An American girl was taken about three months ago, from
the compound our men raided in northern Syria, by a Pakistani
biochemist reportedly working for ISIL in Mosul."

“Can’t we just bomb them? Or send the Navy
Seals in? Or the CIA? Can’t we do something?" she rapidly fired at
the congressman.

“Mrs. Ahmadi, I wish it were that simple. I
really do. We have…well, it’s complicated. Iraq is a sovereign
nation, and our relationship with them is fragile. The current
administration…theirs and ours…well, they are not making things
easy. I am pushing the issue, and I am working deals behind the
scenes, believe me. But I can’t promise anything. The good news is
that the State Department is actually at work in Iraq, so we have
resources in country. Those resources have their eyes and ears
open. Thats the best we can do right now.”

Najid began to laugh quietly. Fuze looked at
him angrily as his laughter grew to hysterics. She was about to say
something when the laughter turned suddenly to sobbing and he
completely broke down. Fouzia’s heart melted and she went to him.
Najid took hold of her around the waist as she bent over and hugged
his shoulders. He held her tightly as months of denied grief
finally released. Congressman Seaver graciously left his office
quietly and gave them a few moments of privacy.

“Fouzia, my love,” he finally said. “I am so
sorry!" He looked into her eyes and asked, “Can you forgive
me?”