The Other Half of My Soul (30 page)

thirty-four

By day the sun will not strike you, nor the moon by night. The Lord will guard you from all harm. He will guard your life. The Lord will guard your going and coming now and forever.

—Psalm 121:6-8

Late Friday afternoon, July fourth, as Americans prepared for Independence Day celebrations, Rami and Kamil arrived in the border town of McAllen, Texas. Money belts were strapped inside their waistbands. Kamil had said, “Pay cash for everything. We must not leave any trails.” They rented a car, drove several miles outside of town to an exotic pet shop, and purchased a boa constrictor. After securing the serpent in a glass tank with a locked-down screen lid, they set it inside a corrugated box. The two then ate dinner at a local restaurant, checked into a nearby motel, and phoned their wives.

Concerned about not hearing from Omar, Rami began to speculate on the causes. Kamil’s satellite phone sounded. Lifting his eyebrows, Kamil smiled, “Go ahead, answer it.”

“Yes?”

“Rami . . .”

“Omar, we were getting worried that . . .”

“I do not have much time, so let us make this quick. Is Kamil with you?”

“Yes, he is right here.”

“Where are you both?”

“McAllen, Texas.”

“Good. Do you have the snake?”

“A boa constrictor.”

“Excellent. At noon tomorrow, I will arrive in Reynosa. You have the directions to the landing strip?”

“Yes.”

“Yousef is back from Iraq, but only for a few days. We will need to move quickly. Saleem will be on the plane with me. He is ruthless and intends to kill you. Abdallah wanted the honor for himself, but Yousef put him in charge here in the Triple Frontier while he is in Iraq, so . . .” Click. The connection was lost.

Rami hung up and handed the phone back to Kamil. “Omar will be in Reynosa at noon tomorrow. Someone named Saleem will be with him, ready to kill me. Yousef’s orders. Abdallah wanted the honors, but . . .” Rami shrugged nervously. “Yousef is back from Iraq. He is in the Triple Frontier, but only for a few days. Omar said we must move quickly.”

“With Omar’s help, we survived the jungles of Putumayo. And with Omar’s help, we will survive this, too.”

* * *

Early Saturday morning, as Rami and Kamil were rising in McAllen, Texas, Rayna and Alexis slumbered in Bethesda, Maryland. Not being able to sleep, the two women had stayed up most of the night talking and playing Scrabble. It was not until their eyelids grew heavy that Rayna and Alexis had finally gone to bed.

The ringing of the phone wakened Rayna. Quickly, she reached for it. “Hello.”

“Good morning. Did I wake you?”

“Kamil! Where are you? Where’s Rami? Are you both okay?” Impulsively, Rayna rallied from a deep sleep.

“We’re getting ready to leave for Mexico. We found a man to drive us. He’s charging an arm and a leg but . . .”

“What about Omar?”

“Everything is set. He’ll meet us at noon.”

“Please, Kamil, look out for Rami.”

“You know I will. Where’s Alexis?”

“She’s in the guest room, probably fast asleep. We were up all night worrying about both of you. I’ll get her, but first I want to speak with Rami.”

“Make it quick, we don’t have much time. And we want to grab some breakfast before we get on the road. This may be a long day.”

“Hi, rrawhee.”

“Rami, please be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I am okay. You take care of our son until I get back.”

“I love you.”

“Rayna . . .”

“What sweetheart?”

“I am not there to protect you, so promise to stay in the house until we return.”

“I’ll be fine . . .”

“No, Rayna. Promise. Stay in the house and keep the security system on. Call the police if you notice anything suspicious.”

“Alexis is with me. You and Kamil are the ones who need to be careful.”

“Rayna!”

“Yes, Rami. Okay.” Holding the cordless phone, Rayna knocked on the guest room door. “Guess who’s on the line?”

Alexis gave out an elated yelp, “Kamil!” She tugged the phone from Rayna’s hand.

* * *

Allowing themselves ample time, Rami and Kamil waited in front of the hotel. The Texan they had hired to drive them across the border pulled up in his dark green RAV4. “Good timing,” Kamil uttered under his breath. “I admit, I had my doubts about this guy even showing up.”

“He seems so . . . so . . .”

“Not overly bright,” Kamil finished Rami’s sentence. “But he’s here. Come on, let’s get this snake into the car before he questions what it is.”

Carefully, they placed the corrugated box in the back of the vehicle while the man sat at the wheel waiting. Kamil and Rami climbed into the rear seat behind the driver.

“Howdy,” greeted the man. He turned up the fan on the air conditioning and instructed Rami and Kamil to keep the doors and windows locked. “Mighty risky trip. Bandidos or
la policía
. Take ya pick. They’re both known to rob us Americans . . . even kill us. Happens all the time. Mexico’s a dangerous place. Laws don’ mean a whole helluva lot. That’s why I hafta charge so much for the trip.”

Rami and Kamil glanced at each other, rolled their eyes, and shook their heads.

“Nevah been to this airport ya tellin’ me ’bout. Ya sure ya know where it’s at? If I gotta take ya back, gotta charge ya ’nothah five hunerd. Only faeh, ya know. With a wife and three young’uns, gotta make a livin’.” When the man paused, Rami and Kamil hoped he had stopped. His peculiar accent and incessant talking were grinding on their nerves. “You ain’t said nothin’ ’bout me takin’ ya back, but I could if ya need me to.”

Once across the border, the driver reached into the glove compartment, taking out a primitive map. Rami’s patience was wearing thin. “That map is not necessary. We have the directions.” When the man ignored him and made several wrong turns into dead-end streets, Rami snatched the map off the front seat and crumpled it into a ball.

“Hey, why d’ya do that?”

Rami ignored the man’s question.

A small plane rose in the sky. Kamil forcibly took charge of the navigation. “Follow the path of where that plane just took off.” Slowly maneuvering the bumpy dirt road, the driver complained about the rough terrain ruining his tires and dirtying his car. “Keep driving,” Kamil charged, “and go left at the split ahead of you.”

“But my car . . .”

“You agreed to get us to a certain landing strip in Reynosa. We paid you five hundred dollars. Now, take us there or return the money,” Rami challenged.

The man kept on driving. Soon, a meager landing strip came into view. “That’s it! Pull in over there and wait,” Kamil instructed.

The driver pulled the car over to the side and turned off the ignition. “Ya di’in’ say nothin’ ’bout me waitin’. That’ll cost extra.”

Rami threw the man a harsh look.

“How long do I hafta wait?”

“Until we tell you to leave.”

“Two hunerd if ya wa’me to wait. Two hunerd bucks for every twenee minutes. Real dangerous heah, ya know. Gotta get back. Wife an’ kids ’spectin’ me . . .”

“You just wait!” Rami put two one-hundred-dollar bills in the man’s hand. “If it is longer than twenty minutes, you will wait longer. Two hundred dollars for every twenty minutes. And if we return to Texas with you, that means another five hundred more. Not bad for a day’s work,” Rami said, further tempting the man. “And there is a big tip for you, if you do your job right.”

The man beamed greedily. “Sure am grateful to ya. I’ll stay right heah an’ wait.”

“Good! You do that!” Rami did not like the leverage the driver was taking but knew that he and the vehicle were their only means of escape, if it became necessary. He glanced at his watch, then looked at Kamil, “Eleven-fifty-five . . . five more minutes.”

* * *

“Rami, help me lift this box.” They set the boa constrictor down on the outer edge of the paltry runway, then confirmed that their handguns were in place. They waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. The intense noon sun beat down fiercely. Temperatures hovered at one hundred ten degrees. Reaching into their backpacks, Rami and Kamil took out bottled water. The liquid was warm, almost to the point of being hot. They drank anyway. Kamil looked at his watch, “Twelve-thirty.” The two grew more restless.

The driver hit the horn hard, “Ya wa’me to wait longah? ’Nothah twenee minutes, ’nothah two hunerd,” he called out.

With his nerves frayed, Rami lost his temper and stomped toward the vehicle. Following close behind, Kamil held up ten fingers and motioned to the driver. “In ten minutes, we’ll bring you another two hundred dollars.”

The man shook his head and turned the key in the ignition.

“No!” bellowed Rami, throwing money into the open window. “You wait until we tell you to leave. Another thousand dollars is riding on it for you. If you leave before we tell you . . .”

Kamil drew his gun. “My aim is good.
Real good
. Even from a distance.”

“Yes, suh. Yes, suh. Right heah. I’ll wait right heah.”

* * *

The sound of engines loomed above. Rami and Kamil looked up. A small plane was descending. The Cessna twin touched down on the rough terrain, bouncing along before coming to a stop. Clouds of dust blanketed the air. Rami and Kamil covered their faces.

The cabin door flew open. Standing in the hatch was a round-bellied man with a plump face and a bald head. He let down the steps. From above, he shouted in Arabic, “Which one of you is Rami?”

Rami broke out in a profuse sweat. He was an easy target for Saleem. His eyes darted to Kamil for assurance.

“I have you covered,” Kamil said. “Don’t let him see you waver.”

Stepping forward, Rami looked up. “I am Rami, and who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. Who is that with you?”

“Where is Omar? I agreed to meet Omar. I have a package for him,” Rami shouted over the noise of the engine.

Kamil kept his hand concealed on the gun.

“Who is that with you?” the man asked again.

“A friend.”

“You were told to come alone.” He pointed a thirty-eight revolver directly at Rami. “Ask your friend to turn slowly and walk away. He is not to look back, or I will kill both of you.”

“I knew not to trust Omar.”

“Take it easy, Rami. Smile. Nod your head. Don’t get on that plane without me. Put your hand on your gun. Don’t hesitate to use it.” Slowly, without turning, Kamil began backing away, his keen eyes not leaving the scene. Intuitively, he raised his weapon. Two shots rang out. Blood spurted from Saleem’s shattered face. As the man tumbled to the ground, red fluid oozed across the back of his shirt.

Appearing in the aircraft hatch, Omar threw down a large, black canvas sack. “Hurry! Make sure Saleem is dead and get his gun. Put his body in this and bring him up. We will get rid of the corpse in some remote area. It is too risky to leave him here.”

Kamil climbed the steps, hauling the sack with Saleem’s dead body over his shoulder. Rami followed with the serpent. Omar latched the cabin door, sat in the cockpit, threw the engines into full throttle, and rolled the plane across the strip, stirring up dust before soaring into the cloudless sky. “Which one of you fired that second shot?” Omar asked with a subtle grin.

“I did,” Kamil answered. “But if you hadn’t first fired from the back . . .”

“Ouch!” Omar grimaced. “Then Saleem might have gotten Rami.”

* * *

The driver from McAllen was the only witness. “Holy shit! My thousan’ dollahs gone.” He swerved the car around and took off without looking back. “Lord Jesus, take me home, ’cuz I ain’t seen nothin’. I nevah came to this place, and this nevah happened.”

thirty-five

A wise man quickly evaluates each step and moves with confidence. A fool follows his basic instincts although they often lead him astray.

—Baltasar Gracián

For two days, Rayna and Alexis had been confined inside the house. On Friday, they prepared Syrian dishes and baked Syrian pastries. They left aside portions for themselves, stored the balance in Pyrex containers, and stacked the food neatly in the freezer. In the evening, Rayna and Alexis played Scrabble, then stayed up all night talking and worrying.

On Saturday, they lathered their faces with green mud, popped in a video and watched the humorous antics of Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson in
Something’s Gotta Give
, and began the first patches of their joint quilt-making effort. At midnight, Rayna and Alexis got ready for bed. For a second night, they stayed up until dawn, talking and worrying while they added more patches to their quilt. Until their men were home and out of danger, they would remain unsettled.

* * *

Late Sunday morning, Rayna made French toast. The two woman read the paper, showered, and dressed. Alexis pulled out the Scrabble. “No. No more, Alexis. I don’t know about you, but I’m going crazy worrying about Rami and Kamil. I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I don’t get out of this house for a while.”

“No, Rayna. We’re not going anywhere. I gave my word to Kamil and to Rami that we would stay put until they return.”

“Alexis, we need a break . . . both of us. Just for a few hours . . . to the mall. We’ll shop, have dinner, see a movie. It’ll do us both good.”

When Alexis resisted, Rayna said she would go herself. No matter how much Alexis tried, she could not change Rayna’s mind. “You leave me no choice, Rayna. Even a major earthquake couldn’t change your mind. I either go with you or let you go yourself. Either way, I’m breaking Kamil’s trust in me . . . and Rami’s, too. I don’t like this.”

Rayna hesitated, then went up to her bedroom and changed into a pink top and purple slacks that had a drawstring waist she could release as her pregnancy progressed. She picked up her tote and slung it over her shoulder. “Ready?”

Exasperated, Alexis donned black slacks and a multi-colored tie-dyed tee. She tried to call Kamil to let him know of their outing. She could not get through. Picking up her small purse, she let it dangle from her fingertips. “Yes, I’m ready.” She looked at Rayna. “I want to try Kamil one more time before we leave. Maybe I can get through.” Alexis still could not get a connection.

“You’ll try again later when we get back.” Rayna double-checked that all in the house was closed up. She then activated the alarm. Backing out of the driveway, neither noticed the black sedan lagging inconspicuously behind.

* * *

Inside the air-conditioned mall, they dodged the people and walked briskly for an hour, determined to fit in some much-needed exercise. A leisurely shopping spree followed. Alexis bought sandals, two pants outfits, and a shirt for Kamil. Rayna purchased underwear, maternity clothes, and a stuffed otter for the baby. “I once told Rami that in my next life, I want to come back as an otter. They eat, sleep, play, and make love,” Rayna laughed.

“In my next life, I’ll join you,” Alexis responded with amusement.

Sticking closely together, they carried their new purchases to the car, locked them in the trunk, and returned to the mall, unaware of the two men observing them. “With this place so crowded, we were lucky to get such a great parking space,” Rayna commented.

* * *

After sharing an appetizer of vegetable lettuce wraps and a meal of salmon, broccoli, and rice at the Chinese restaurant, Rayna and Alexis took the escalator up to the movie theaters. They scanned the list of films on the marquis and decided on
Bend It Like Beckham
. “Good timing,” Alexis remarked as they settled into their seats during the previews.

An hour into the cinema, Rayna needed to use the restroom. “The baby is pressing on my bladder. I’ll be right back.”

“I’m going with you . . .”

“Alexis, I’m grateful to have you here with me, really, but let’s not carry this too far. You stay so you can fill me in on what I miss. I’ll be five minutes.”

“No, Rayna, you’re not going alone. I have strict orders from Kamil and Rami to watch over you.”

“Alexis, would you like to hold my hand while I pee?” She smiled, trying to soften her sarcasm. “I’ll be right back.” Rayna picked up her tote and eased her way out of the row.

* * *

“That’s her.” The two men were waiting patiently for the right moment. Yousef had been resolute with his orders. Rayna was to be taken alone—no witnesses and no one else hurt.

Moviegoers were inside the theaters. The lobby was empty except for some teenagers working the deserted concession stand. Fully absorbed in clowning around and flirting with the opposite sex, the youths never looked in the direction of the two men.

“Dark hair, gorgeous. Pink and purple clothing. Yousef described her well. Let’s move . . .”

“Not so quick. Yousef never said she was pregnant. Look at her. Let her go to the bathroom. We don’t want an accident on our hands.”

* * *

Rayna entered the barren restroom, emptied her bladder, washed her hands, and checked her hair in the mirror. Five minutes later, oblivious to what was awaiting her, she stepped out the door, intending to return to the cinema and to Alexis. In her peripheral vision, she sighted a rugged-looking Arab. Tilting her head in his direction, Rayna sensed his dark eyes upon her. Fear struck. Intuitively, she knew to flee, but it was too late. An arm grabbed her around the neck and restrained her. A hand shoved a chloroform-soaked cloth over her mouth and nose. Rayna struggled, but quickly surrendered to the anesthetic. The two men whisked her out a rear exit.

* * *

After what seemed like much too long a time, Alexis’s anxiety intensified. In the darkness of the theater, she gathered her purse and promptly left. Approaching the door to the ladies’ room, she caught sight of Rayna’s purple and pink tote on the floor. Alexis picked it up. She went into the restroom and called out. Silence. She checked each stall. No one. Panic seized her. Frantically, she questioned the teenagers at the concession stand. Nothing. Wildly, Alexis ran through the mall shouting Rayna’s name, searching every inch of the upper level, the main level, the lower level. In the parking lot, she saw the car still there, in the same spot. It was Sunday evening, the stores were closed and the mall was relatively deserted. To any straggler who would listen, she described her sister-in-law with impeccable detail. Her hands shook. Her voice quivered. Alexis pleaded for help. Sympathetic strangers tracked down a security guard and led him to Alexis. The police were called in. A wider search began. Trembling, Alexis took out her cell phone, hoping to reach Kamil, horrified by what she would have to tell him.

* * *

When Kamil chronicled Alexis’s account of Rayna’s disappearance, Rami’s blood curdled. Excruciating waves of terror flooded his consciousness. Desperation seized every part of his body. He felt as if he were plunging into the depths of a dark ocean. An infinite craving to be forever with Rayna overpowered him. He must return home to find her.

* * *

The county police chief ordered an extensive search for the well-known journalist. By early the next morning, all major television and radio stations covered Rayna’s abduction. Newspapers headlined her disappearance. A nationwide hunt began.

* * *

In Ciudad del Este, plans needed to be altered. Rayna’s kidnapping changed everything. With flight schedules, connections, and layovers, it would take almost two days to get home, so Omar volunteered to fly Rami directly back to Washington in the morning. Kamil would join them, not wanting to abandon Rami in his distress. Carrying out their plot would have to wait.

* * *

“Where is he?” Rami nervously paced the floor of the hotel room. “Omar should have been here two hours ago. Two hours ago! We should never have trusted him. Where is Rayna? Where is my wife? What has happened to her?” he cried in anguish.

Kamil’s heart ached for the man he now considered to be his family. Putting his arms around Rami, Kamil held him. “Take it easy, my brother. The police and the FBI are looking all over the country for Rayna. They’ll find her.”

Several taps on the door almost stopped Rami’s heart. It was Omar. Unrestrained, Rami jumped all over him with physical and verbal attacks. Kamil quickly moved to calm Rami. Patiently, Omar waited for his friend to quiet down so he could tell him about Rayna.

“Rami, you must listen to what Omar has to say. Your hysterics will not help us to find Rayna.”

A beleaguered-looking Omar sat down and peered at Rami. “I have seen your wife. She is here in Ciudad del Este, brought in just hours ago. That is why I am late getting here. Yousef and Abdallah have her shackled in chains. Rayna’s life is dangling because Yousef says you double-crossed him. They plan to behead her like they did Nolan.”

“Noooo. Noooo.” Rami sobbed. “Noooo.”

“Rami, Yousef believes Saleem shot you dead. He now regrets that order. Yousef is obsessed with getting his hands on the bacteria, and is now hanging onto a false notion that Nolan lied. Rayna will slowly be tortured until she provides information that satisfies Yousef. Since you are supposedly dead, Yousef is desperate. He sees Rayna as his last hope.”

Crazed, Rami grabbed Omar’s shirt and pulled at it. “I want to see Rayna. Take me to her. I need to be with her . . .”

Gently, Kamil sat Rami down. “Be grateful Rayna is still alive. That means we have a chance to save her. Omar and I need your help to do that. Your falling apart serves no useful purpose. It will not help Rayna.”

“I know it is hard, Rami, but you must get hold of yourself. There is no time to waste on emotions. The three of us must work together quickly, and not lose sight of what we have to do. The slightest slip will be our downfall. The tiniest mistake will cost Rayna her life.” Omar made his point.

“Rami, are you with us? Do you understand what Omar just said? We’re going to rescue Rayna.”

Rami nodded. Omar withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. On one side, he drew a map of the vicinity, indicating where they now were. He marked the building where Rayna was being held, and the route to the city’s small airport. On the other side, Omar sketched the exterior and interior of the building, including the room that imprisoned Rayna.

* * *

For the first time, Omar was in a position of total control. Rayna’s survival depended on him. Yousef’s death depended on him. Abdallah’s death depended on him. Their own lives depended on him. Being in charge empowered Omar, and he liked the feeling. “From my experiences with Yousef and Abdallah, this strategy is our only hope. We must follow it to the last detail, concentrating and thinking very clearly every second. We cannot afford a mis-judgment or a wrong move. Everything depends on our working together, each doing his part. Emotional anguish will ruin the equation.” Omar aimed his words more toward Rami than Kamil. Getting Rami in line was his main concern.

“We’re with you,” Kamil confirmed.

As Omar drafted the plan, Kamil said that he wanted to be the one to kill Yousef. Rami insisted that he should be the one to save Rayna. In the end, it was Omar’s decision that held.

“Rami, you need to stay focused. We will not be able to rescue Rayna while Yousef and Abdallah are alive. They must be dealt with first. When we have them out of the way, then we can save Rayna. If you attempt to reverse the order, you will never get Rayna out alive, and you will get us all killed. Are you listening to me, Rami?”

“Yes, Omar. I am listening. I will do anything. Whatever it takes. I will not let you down. I will not let Rayna down.”

Omar gave Rami an encouraging hug, then looked up at Kamil. A thin smile of relief crossed his lips. Deliberately, Omar did not go into details about Rayna’s current state. He had already told Rami enough. Omar would not tell Rami that Rayna’s arms were spread like an eagle, shackled in irons that were anchored into a stone wall by rappelling hooks. He would not tell Rami that Rayna’s ankles were securely roped together. He would not tell Rami that blood dripped down from the insides of her legs into a puddle of clear liquid from her water bag breaking. Rayna hung like Jesus on the cross above a sanguine pool that had formed on the cement floor below. Omar would not tell Rami any of this. Rami would know soon enough.

Following Omar and Rami out the door, Kamil lifted the corrugated box, carried it out to the car, and set it in the trunk. He turned off his satellite phone. Nothing must distract him.

* * *

In front of a one-story stone and concrete structure, Omar brought the car to a halt. Rami and Kamil ducked their heads. Omar exited the vehicle and approached the two guards standing watch. Brandishing Glock automatics, they greeted him. Omar had become a familiar face in the Triple Frontier’s Muslim community. “Yousef is expecting me,” he smiled affably, proceeding to make friendly small talk. “There is a problem with this door . . . with the lock. Yousef wants it fixed right away.” Purposely, Omar jiggled the heavy brass latch. Both guards turned to look, exposing their backs to the street. Omar had succeeded in diverting their attention.

With silencers, Kamil and Rami fired several shots. The guards lay dead. Their weapons were retrieved and their bodies dragged behind the building and hidden among tall bushes.

Omar pushed down on the heavy brass latch and opened the door. Rami lifted the box from the trunk and followed Omar into the building. Kamil remained out front keeping vigil, ready to shoot anything and anyone looking suspicious.

* * *

Cautiously, Rami and Omar walked down the dim, narrow corridor. They passed the room where Rayna was kept hostage. Omar pointed to the locked door and nodded.

Rami’s teeth clenched as he tried hard to keep focused. Slipping into the only obscure alcove in the long hallway, Rami quietly set down the corrugated box, closed his eyes, and silently prayed.
Please, Allah, give me the strength to do what I must. I do not want to live in this world without Rayna
.