The Protector (9 page)

A moment later he beckoned Abdul to join him. Abdul stepped beside Hassan who suddenly grabbed him roughly. ‘Keep your ear to the door and listen,’ Hassan whispered.‘You hear a sound, you let me know.’ Hassan did not wait for a response from Abdul and moved to join his men who had gathered in a tight group in the shadows of the building.

Abdul watched the devilish quartet whispering together and kept his ear to the door as he’d been ordered. He thought he heard a sound from inside and as he focused his attention on it he was suddenly yanked unceremoniously back. Arras moved to take his place, opened his jacket and removed a hefty crowbar as he pressed his ear to the door.

The others stood close by, Abdul a head shorter than any of them and hemmed in tightly, unable to escape even if he had dared to try.

Arras stepped back from the door and worked the crowbar into the frame. As he slowly levered it to one side the wood began to split but the lock held. He wiggled the bar further in and then levered it back once again. There was a loud crack and the door popped open.

Hassan did not waste a second and pushed past Arras and into the house with anxious haste. Ali and Arras followed quickly while Abdul was shoved inside by Karrar who brought up the rear.

Karrar closed the door behind him and the five men stood like black sentinels in the hallway as if waiting for a signal to move. Halfway along the dark narrow hallway a flight of stairs led to the floor above and Hassan moved to the foot, his pistol in his hand. Without looking back he signalled for the others to move and they obeyed stealthily.

Arras and Ali passed Hassan and continued along the hall to the first door, which was partly open. The room was dark inside. The two men went inside and a few seconds later reappeared and moved further down the dark passageway to the next door.

A few seconds later they came out and went further back into the house, disappearing into the darkness.

Abdul hardly moved, watching Hassan who kept his pistol aimed up the stairs. Karrar breathed deeply behind him. Judging by Hassan’s air of intensity and his cautious stance, the man was expecting resistance. Abdul hoped it would end soon but then he realised that he would still be left to deal with Hassan and the matter of his resignation. Abdul was no longer confident that the issue was going to be resolved quite as easily as he had hoped.

Ali and Arras returned from the dark hallway and Ali shook his head at his brother.

Hassan directed his full attention to the top of the stairs. As he placed his foot on the first step it creaked. He paused before applying his full weight but the step creaked again as he raised his other foot and placed it on the next one. That creaked too but the third did not and Hassan continued slowly towards the top, the business end of his pistol leading the way.

The others mounted the stairs behind him. Ali and Arras avoided the first two steps. Karrar nudged Abdul forward: he placed his foot on the first step that once again creaked loudly. Arras stopped to look back with a scowl and Karrar jabbed Abdul viciously in his side.

Abdul winced at the blow and placed his other foot higher up. Arras maintained his warning glare for a moment longer before looking back towards the top of the stairs and taking another step up.

Hassan reached the final step where a closed door blocked access to the floor.The others closed in behind him.

Hassan looked back at his pack to ensure that they were ready. Every white eye, encircled by its black woollen slit, was wide and alert - except Abdul’s. His eyes flickered with frightened uncertainty. He was jammed tightly between Arras and Karrar, both of them holding their pistols at the ready.

Hassan faced the door which was painted dull brown, leaned forward and pressed his ear to it. His free hand reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it. He gave it a slight push but the door did not move. Hassan exhaled through his nose - the sound was quite loud in the still air - and stepped back until his arm holding the doorknob was at full stretch. The others leaned back to give him room. With a sudden sharp intake of breath, Hassan shoved his full weight forward. His shoulder struck the wooden door, the bolt inside sprang free and it flew open.

Hassan moved forward with his own momentum and his men followed. Abdul was caught up in the press of bodies as Karrar shoved him hard and they spilled into a room that was bathed in a dull golden glow from a benzene lamp.

The room was not very big and was sparsely furnished with a couch and a dining table. A kitchenette took up one corner. Abdul saw two people lying on mattresses, one a man in his fifties, his eyes wide in shock and holding a book next to the lamp. Ali and Arras were upon the two figures like hyenas, Ali grabbing the man by his neck and jamming a gun into his face.The other figure, a woman as old as the man, awoke and sat up as her eyes tried to focus, her mouth opening in fear. Arras threw his weight onto her while shoving his hand over her face, brutally pushing her head back onto the mattress.

Meanwhile, Hassan continued through the room to its only other door. He raised his leg and kicked open this latest obstruction. Karrar shoved Abdul across the room to the doorway where he left him. In the second room a man and woman were in bed under a sheet. Karrar joined Hassan as they sat up. Hassan pulled back the sheet to reveal that they were both naked and, grabbing the woman by her hair, dragged her off the bed as she screamed. Karrar took hold of the man by his throat and shoved his pistol in his face.

Abdul watched in confused horror. These pathetic-looking people were not the hardened desperados he had been expecting.

‘Bring him,’ Hassan shouted. Karrar obeyed, brusquely turning the frightened man over, twisting his arm halfway up his back and pulling him off the bed. The man yelped at the pain while complying as best he could with Karrar’s efforts to get him to his feet, around the bed and to the door.

The slender woman was in her early thirties and Hassan kept a firm hold of her thick long dark hair as he pulled her past Abdul and into the main room. The naked man followed, grimacing while balancing on tiptoe as he struggled to reduce the pressure on his arm. The man’s skin was white and his hair was light, neither feature uncommon in the western reaches of Iraq, but his overall look was distinctly Anglo-Saxon.

The naked woman yelped at every tug on her hair while the Anglo-looking man groaned in response to Karrar’s brutal grip. Abdul was conscious of the balaclava over his face and felt distinctly weird as he looked through the narrow eyelets at the unfolding scene.

The older couple were forced to their feet by Ali and Arras who shoved them against the wall. Hassan pushed the naked woman beside them and released her. She held her hands over her breasts and genital area as she cried out. ‘Please, please don’t hurt us,’ she kept begging.

‘Shut up!’ Hassan shouted as he aimed his gun at her face, his eyes intense. She immediately stopped speaking, although she could not control her whimpering. Karrar kept hold of the male westerner as Ali and Arras stepped back, their pistols levelled at the terrified older couple.

Then Hassan seemed to calm down a little as everyone in the room came under his control. He turned his attention to the naked man. Karrar pulled the man’s head back by his hair so that he was forced to face the boss.

‘What’s your name?’ Hassan demanded.The man did not answer as he looked fearfully at Hassan and then at the naked woman.‘Abdul,’ Hassan growled.‘Ask him his name.’

Abdul was almost as frightened as the man and did not understand what Hassan had asked him.‘W-what?’ he stammered.

‘I said ask him his name,’ Hassan repeated.

Abdul looked at the frightened man who was only slightly bigger than himself. ‘What is your name?’ he said.

‘In English, you idiot!’ Hassan shouted. ‘He is not Arab.’

Abdul made an extreme effort to compose himself as his mouth suddenly went dry. ‘What your name?’ he asked in broken English.

The naked man glanced at Abdul with pleading eyes when he recognised his language, perhaps sensing in the tone of his voice that this Arab might have some sympathy in his heart.‘J-Jeffrey Lamont,’ the man stammered, his face a picture of utter fear. ‘You will be paid a lot of money if you—’

‘Who does he work for?’ Hassan snapped.

‘What you company work for?’ Abdul asked in heavily accented English as he struggled to get his lips and tongue around the language that he had learned in school. He had only spoken it very occasionally with his sister in the last few years.

‘Detron Communications,’ the man said.

‘A communications company,’ Abdul relayed to Hassan.

‘What kind of communications?’ Hassan asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Abdul said.

‘Ask him, you idiot!’ Hassan shouted, his temper going up and down with his blood pressure.

Abdul took a moment to form the words but he was not quick enough for Hassan. ‘You said you could speak English,’ Hassan said accusingly.

‘It’s been a while,’ Abdul said nervously.

‘Ask him!’ Hassan shouted again.

Abdul swallowed hard and made an effort to concentrate. ‘What you communications?’ he asked.

‘I . . . I don’t know what you mean,’ the man said, desperately wanting to comply but too confused.

‘What . . . kind . . . of communication you work for? What communications?’ Abdul asked.

‘Phones. We put up mobile phone masts. We’re bringing communications to your country,’ Lamont said, pleading. ‘Please don’t hurt us.’

Abdul felt desperately sorry for the man but tried not to let it show as he spoke to Hassan. ‘He builds mobile phone masts.’

The man’s stare dropped to Abdul’s jacket that had opened and he caught a glimpse of his chest badge on his blue shirt. ‘You’re police,’ the man said.

Hassan looked at Abdul’s open jacket, then at the naked woman and the old couple who were staring at the badge.

‘I have a DoD pass,’ the man said. ‘In my pocket,’ he added, suddenly hopeful that this could be resolved. ‘In my trousers. In the room,’ he went on.

Hassan looked at the man. He knew what a DoD pass was. It was an identification badge that all foreign reconstruction contractors carried. Issued by the US Army, it allowed them into the Green Zone as well as into coalition camps anywhere in the country. As a police officer, often running checkpoints, Hassan had seen hundreds of them. ‘Where’s his DoD?’ he asked Abdul.

‘In his trouser pocket in the bedroom,’ Abdul answered.

Hassan went into the bedroom.

‘And my passport,’ Lamont said. ‘I’m an American citizen,’ he added, clarifying his legitimacy.

Hassan returned with the man’s DoD, passport and wallet. He checked the documents and then the wallet: it contained a few hundred dollars which he pocketed. Then he turned his attention to the woman.

She had calmed down a little on realising that the intruders were police but she was still frightened.

‘Are you a whore?’ Hassan asked her coldly.

‘No. I am not a whore,’ the woman said in a defiant tone.

‘Are you Muslim?’ Hassan asked her.

‘Yes,’ she replied.

‘Then why are you sleeping with this infidel?’ Hassan asked as he looked down at her naked body, his gaze resting for a moment on her hand cupped protectively over her vagina.

‘Because I love him,’ she declared.

Hassan removed his balaclava and looked at her, a grimace of disgust on his face. He raised his gun, aimed it at her eyes, and squeezed the trigger.The pistol fired. Blood shot from the back of the woman’s head and splashed the wall behind her as she dropped to the floor, the life instantly gone from her.

‘NO!’ the naked man yelled, struggling in Karrar’s grip. The other woman screamed. Hassan gave Ali and Arras a cold look and the men fired their guns into the heads of the older couple who dropped instantly to the floor, their corpses sprawling next to each other.

Arras took a step forward and fired a bullet into each of their heads and another into the naked woman’s for good measure.

Lamont howled despondently, his face contorted with grief, his mouth wide open as his eyes filled with tears.

‘Take him,’ Hassan said as he stepped over the bodies towards the door.

Karrar pulled the westerner towards the door but the man wrenched himself out of his grasp and threw himself at the dead naked woman.‘Fatima!’ he shouted, the pain in his voice startling in its intensity.

Arras moved quickly to help Karrar control Lamont who fought strongly to resist them. Arras had a simple solution to the problem and slammed the butt of his pistol down onto the top of the man’s head, following it up with a savage punch to his kidney.The man went limp but remained conscious and Karrar lifted him to his feet and steered him to the door.

Hassan let Ali lead the way out of the room, followed by Karrar and the American. He was about to follow when he realised that Abdul had not moved and was staring down at the bodies.

‘Abdul!’ Hassan called out. ‘Move!’

But Abdul could not hear him through the dreadful mist of revulsion that filled his mind.

‘Get him,’ Hassan growled. Arras responded, grabbing Abdul by his lapel and pulling him to the door. Abdul did not resist, as if he had lost control over all his motor functions other than his breathing and the beating of his heart. He stumbled over the legs of the dead couple and the near-fall brought him back to life: as he reached the doorway he grabbed the door frame to stop himself.

Abdul looked back at the corpses of the old couple and the naked woman.Then he peered at Hassan who was staring at him.

‘You want to join them?’ Hassan asked.

The words were as sincere as any that Abdul had heard in his life. He shook his head.

‘Get going, then,’ Hassan said, his voice soft.

Arras pushed Abdul through the doorway and he clambered down the stairs, hanging on to the banister to stop himself from rolling down into the darkness.

Arras followed closely and as Abdul reached the bottom he was shoved along the corridor and out through the front door. Arras did not let up - he took hold of Abdul’s lapel again and pulled him along the pavement, following Karrar and Ali as they manhandled the naked Lamont towards the cars. Hassan was in the rear, his gun held by his side, ready in case they should be challenged.