American Terrorist (The Rayna Tan Action Thrillers Book 1) (18 page)

Expected or not, this poor village had experienced more than its share of hurts. The inhabitants were used to treating people with wounds of war with little or no medicine.
 

“Boil some water,” barked one of the town’s rare living males in his forties. “And cloth and a knife.”

Ten minutes later, a cloth was put between the barely conscious Rayna’s teeth so she could bite on it. Beside Shafi stood Tamra, a midwife who also had no surgical experience.

“You trust me?” asked Shafi.

“No, but I don’t think I have a choice,” said Rayna in a hoarse whisper.

“Unless you prefer to die.”

Everyone’s a comedian.
Rayna gritted her teeth and clenched the side of the table as Shafi forced the knife into her flesh.

“RRRR!” sounded Rayna.

Sweat appeared on the man’s brow. “It’s stuck.”

“Twist it,” shouted Tamra.

“RRRR!” sounded Rayna even louder as the blade curved deeper into her flesh. The cut enlarged, Shafi reached the bullet and flicked the blade. The bullet popped up and the middle-aged man grabbed it in the air.

“I did it!” shouted the no-longer-a-virgin surgeon, but Rayna didn’t hear it—she had passed out.

This allowed Shafi to bandage her stomach more easily as well as remove the shrapnel on her arms and face. As much pressure as could be afforded was applied to the makeshift tourniquet on her abdomen. Tamra dabbed water onto Rayna’s sweating brow and forced some down through her bloody lips.

The villagers kept a vigil, rotating shifts of applying water compresses to Rayna’s body and forcing herbal concoctions down her throat. Finally, there was a communal gasp of relief as the young Asian woman suddenly coughed and struggled to sit up.

Rayna saw a young woman patting her hand. “God is good,” the girl murmured in Arabic.

“Yes, God is good,” repeated Rayna, also in Arabic.

“You speak Arabic?” asked the girl, surprised.

Rayna nodded. “I was stationed here for years. I was a soldier. What time is it?”

“It is two in the morning.”

“Did you see a tall man with a scar?”

The girl nodded. “Two hundred yards away.”

“Take me to him,” Rayna ordered.

“It’s not a good idea. He is dangerous. What do you want to do?” The young woman looked terrified.

“I want to kill him,” said Rayna calmly through gritted teeth, pulling herself up.

“I will go, too. He has my sister.”
 

“What’s her name? What’s yours? Do you have a phone? What is this town? I need to make a call,” rattled off Rayna in a stream of consciousness series of questions.

“I’m Jennah. My sister is Lena. We are in al-Tubak,” replied Lena as she handed Rayna a cell phone.

Rayna punched in a number.

“Hello, Mario’s Pizza. Can I take your order please?”

“Julio, it’s Rayna.” At CenCom, all calls were answered but, if the caller or caller ID was unknown, answering as “Mario’s Pizza” was the standard greeting. It screened out the curious or undesirables.

“Thank God. We were sure you were dead.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. Get the coordinates of this cell phone and send help.”

“Get Boom Boom.”

“Can’t. He’s no longer available,” said Rayna stoically.
 

“Sorry to hear that,” replied Julio, understanding perfectly what Rayna implied. “We’ll get FME to send someone ASAP.”

“That’s a minimum of two hours. Too long. I gotta do this myself. Can you get a chopper here sooner?”

“I can do anything.”

“Give my love to Helena and the kids.”

Rayna hung up.
 

***

Fifteen minutes later, Rayna was fully clothed in a traditional Muslim woman’s outfit with a black burka that covered her face. Dressed like this, it was impossible for anyone to tell that she was of Asian origin. For weapons, Shafi gave her his old gun and five bullets.

Jennah accompanied Rayna quietly down the sandy street. During a normal day, it was a bazaar and would be full of vendors and customers but now it was a ghost town.
 

“The big man used to come here, but we had not seen him in over six months,” said Jennah. “Normally, he just came for the girls but this time, he killed Abrahim, one of our elders. We don’t even know his name but I remember what he looks like. He is about six feet tall and has the same skin color as all of us. He has long hair and a beard.”

“Jennah, that sounds like almost every Middle Eastern man in the world.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Jennah protested. “He has a scar that runs from under his left eye to the top of his chin.”

“How do you know that?” Rayna asked curiously.

“When he came, I begged him to take me instead of my sister. He tied Lena up, laughed and raped me. I wanted to close my eyes but he used his hands to push up my eyelids and made me look him in the face.”

“Why did he do that?”

“He said, “I want you to remember me forever.” Then he threw me out and is with Lena now.”
 

“Animal.”

“Yes.”

Rayna’s eyes brightened and she said softly, “So he’s by himself then?”

“His men are with other girls but he is alone with Lena.”

“Let’s hurry then.”

Jennah scurried in the lead, then pointed. “There.” Rayna spotted the now familiar pick-up truck in front of a two-story building.

Rayna held Jennah back to keep her from advancing. “You must stay here. If I am not back in thirty minutes, leave. Do you understand?”

“But I want to get my sister, too!”

“Jennah, I have killed more than a hundred men in my life. How many have you killed?”

No answer.

“Now you know why I must go alone.”

Rayna gave Jennah a kiss, then furtively scampered down the street, hugging the walls of homes so as not to create any shadows. Stopping twenty yards away, she heard a young girl from the open second story window above the open vehicle. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. Please don’t,” whimpered the voice of a child.

THWACK!
 

“Aah! Don’t hit me! No more! Please. No more!”

“Shut up or I will kill you as well,” growled a hard male voice.

Rayna glanced at the other buildings. All of them were shuttered. From a few of them came similar sounds of children crying for help, but there were no saviors, no gallant knights, nobody. No one was willing to interfere with the demon attackers.

Rayna uttered a curse, then climbed quietly onto the pick-up’s hood and then onto the roof. She stretched her hand up toward the window
. Damn.
There was at least four feet from the top of her hand to the second-story window sill, too high for her to leap from a standing position.

***

With breasts barely popping out from her slim, pre-pubescent body, a naked twelve-year-old girl’s eyes welled with fear as she eyed Ahmed’s scar-covered hard body readying to mount her. With the scar under his wild eyes and breath that reeked of Hell, she felt she was only moments away from eternal damnation. She had never seen a man without clothes before and, without any kind of sex education, she had no idea what was about to happen. All she knew was that her only chance to live was to do whatever he demanded.

But seeing the hairy sticklike monstrosity between his legs paralyzed her. “I can’t. I can’t,” she cried.

“Shut up,” commanded Ahmed, slapping her again across the face. His firm hands squeezed the barely-formed breasts on her trembling body. Tears welled on her face as she bit on her lips, daring not say a word.

And then... a searing pain in her fragile loins, an agony like she had never experienced in her life. “AAAAH!” she screamed.

“Make me happy,” he commanded.

“I don’t know how. I’ve never done this before,” sobbed the girl.

“Figure it out or you will die.”

“You are so... hard...” blubbered the child as he took her hands, making them massage his lower body. “More!” he commanded.
 

“I... I...”

The sound of another slap across the girl’s face made Rayna whip out her gun. But the problem of how to get into the room still confronted her.

The sounds of a little girl whimpering, mixed with the pig grunting of a man, brought tears to Rayna’s eyes.

Suddenly, a cell phone rang loudly.
 

Talk about being saved by the bell.
Rayna heard the rustle of a hand reaching for something, somewhere.

“It’s three a.m., Casey,” barked the man, putting the phone on speaker.
 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to do. The mission was aborted. Nabil blew himself up with the others in the van. It was a mistake to get the convicts. I was sent out to scout...” stammered Casey incoherently.
 

Rayna had to restrain herself from gasping.
He’s speaking to someone with an American accent? A young man? Casey?

Ahmed quickly sharpened focus. “When did this happen?”

“Three minutes ago. I’m in the mall, making my way to another entrance. I have no vehicle. Not much money. Nabil had everything. They’re going to find me and send me to prison,” babbled Casey with irrational panic.

“Nonsense,” said Ahmed reassuringly. “Casey, Casey, it is good that you escaped. That can only mean that Allah has greater plans for you. You are a favored one.”

There was a momentary silence. Then came a timid but hopeful response. “You really think so, Ahmed?”

“Yes, I do. Everything happens for a reason. You survived when others didn’t. You were not discovered because Allah, in his wisdom, chose to hide you from the infidels. More than anything, this has proven that you are the head of the American Muslim Militia for a reason.”

“Thank you, Ahmed. Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. Now go, do what only you can do best. Recruit worthy souls you can trust. There are millions of other potentials in the Great Satan.”

“Of course, Ahmed,” exhaled Casey into the phone, the crushing burden of guilt lifting off his shoulders. “You are wise and I will prove your trust in me to do the smartest thing I can do.”

“And Casey?”

“Yes, Ahmed.”

“Be prepared for my coming,” said Ahmed. “There will be a celebration, and we will light up America like a Christmas tree! And you will be my number one lieutenant. Understand?”

“Yes, Ahmed. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Now, behave like a soldier.” With that, the phone went dead.

“Start again,” commanded the man.

During the phone conversation, Rayna formulated her plan. She removed her hijab then, holding onto one end of the neck scarf, she threw the other end up toward the window latch.
 

Damn.
It failed to catch so she threw it again. Again, the cotton veil refused to grab onto the small latch.

She took a silent breath. This was not working and, even if it did, it was unlikely the flimsy veil could support her weight. She needed a new idea, so she did what she often did whenever she confronted a situation that was beyond her—she threw up a three-word prayer.
Dear God: Help!

She would try again. This third time, she would jump before she threw the hijab. This had two advantages if it succeeded. The shorter distance would give her a better chance of looping the scarf over the window hook, and then she could continue her upward momentum, providing the best chance for the flimsy latch to support her weight. Unfortunately, if this plan didn’t work, Rayna would fall back onto the pick-up’s roof, creating a din that would jeopardize Lena and herself.

She crouched as low as she could, then sprang up with as much strength as she could muster. The hijab caught the hook but began to rip almost immediately. However, that fraction of a second before the veil ripped was enough for her to grab the window ledge but damn—the gun fell out of her pocket!

A few hundred thousand pull-ups paid off in a split second. Rayna pulled herself up to the window and leapt into the room, getting in just as the gun clanged onto the pickup’s roof. The man, already on top of the child, looked in the direction of the noise to see Rayna’s leg landing on his head.
 

The scar! It was him!

The experienced warrior pulled back so as not to catch the full brunt of Rayna’s boot. As he reeled back, Rayna picked up the girl and carried her to the window. Cradling Lena in her arms, she jumped to the top of the pick-up and then down to the ground.
 

Rayna threw the girl into the cab and tried to hotwire the pick-up for a getaway. As the vehicle’s engine struggled to ignite, Rayna hoped against hope that she had judged this Muslim terrorist properly. The naked man would not try to chase after them and would not make any sound. He would never want anyone to know that a woman bested him, even for a moment. This would buy her a few seconds while he put on some clothes.

As Jennah ran toward them, the engine turned over. Jennah climbed in and the pick-up truck hightailed it out of Dodge and into the desert night.

In the emerging daylight, Rayna gazed at the two sisters as she drove. At their ages, she knew they had no life here. Even if they managed to survive, the fact that they were not virgins would make them impossible to marry off, even though it was not their fault. In fact, that they were raped by a monster would worsen their non-existent marital chances.

“I’m Lena. Thank you,” the younger girl whispered softly.
 

“You’re welcome.”

Rayna felt good. She had Ahmed’s name and saw the scar, and she had the name of his accomplice. His voice sounded young. And the mention of the Great Satan? Damn. Casey was in America, and they were planning something big. The puzzle was starting to unravel. “Get some sleep,” she told the girls. “We will have lots of time to talk.”

“No, now. You must save us. We have no one to go to and nowhere to go?”

“Family? Parents?”

“Two days ago, they raped and killed my mother. Then they...” Jennah burst into tears. “He cut my father’s head off with a big sword.”

Anger welled in Rayna. Ahmed and his accomplices must be stopped. In all probability, some country would take the girls as refugees but they were so young. And how long would it take to process the paperwork? Days? Months? Years?