hours ago.
She picked up the rope and draped it over her shoulders, her hands shaking.
Samir said, “You all right?”
“No,” she said. “But I’ll be better when you break the sill of that balcony. Don’t let me down.”
He simply nodded, kneeling down to pull security for her climb.
She took one deep breath, then lightly jumped up and grabbed a protruding pipe. From there, she scampered up the side of the building like a lizard, finding finger- and toeholds out of instinct. She threaded her way through the cables, avoided the second-floor balcony, and reached the third. She hung on it for a second, then did a chin-up until her eyes were level with the edge.
She was happy to see a crude pipe railing to anchor the rope. Beyond it, she saw a sliding glass door partially cracked open, and a man sitting in an old and torn overstuffed chair watching a flickering thirteen-inch television, an AK leaning against the TV stand.
19
Jennifer lowered herself until she was simply hanging, thinking about her options. She’d seen no other men in the small room, although there was an open doorway leading out. She could probably take him quietly. The TV should mask the noise she made getting over the railing.
But she knew she’d better be prepared to assault on her own. If he reacted before she could close on him, it would be a gunfight, and it would mean game-on. She wouldn’t be able to wait for Samir and his men. She’d have to assault by herself to keep the element of speed and find Pike before they killed him.
She went back and forth in her mind, thinking maybe she should climb back down and talk to Samir about other options.
She went hand-over-hand to her left, getting to the farthest point away from the open door. She pulled herself up slowly, making sure the two AK-47s were away from the metal of the railing. She hooked a leg over and used it to torque her body, spinning over the railing and landing softly on her feet.
She flipped one AK off her shoulder and waited, aiming at the door entrance. When nothing happened, she duckwalked to the open door, the TV now bright and flickering in the gathering darkness.
The man was still there, still watching, although his body had shifted.
She saw that she could squeeze through the door, but not with the rope and weapons on her back. She could lead with one weapon in a hand, then squeeze through, but she’d be in trouble if he turned around when she was halfway across.
She set down Pike’s weapon and the bundle of rope, her shoes still draped around her neck.
Like playing the old game “Operation,” she threaded the AK through the door, then followed it, going as slowly as possible so nothing clanked against the door frame.
After an eternity of inches, she reached the far side. She silently reslung the AK across her back and moved up behind the chair in a crouch. She studied the position of the man’s head for a moment, then struck, wrapping a forearm around his neck.
He became animated instantly, trying to leap to his feet and swinging his arms wildly, but instantly was still too late. She clamped her hands together and used her shoulder to press his head down. Within seconds he had slumped back into the chair, unconscious from the lack of blood to his brain.
She kept the guillotine hold in place for a second longer just to make sure, then released him, springing back and rotating the AK into the ready position. He didn’t move. She rolled him out of the chair and hog-tied his feet to his hands, bending his body backward in an arc. She finished by stuffing a dirty rag in his mouth. Satisfied he was secure, she slid open the door and rapidly tied the nylon rope to the railing, then lowered it to Samir.
She felt it tug twice, letting her know he was on the way. She went back into the room, aiming her AK at the open door behind the television. She heard him reach the balcony, but didn’t turn around.
He entered the room and saw the guard.
“Who’s that?”
“No threat.”
Samir said nothing for a moment, sizing her up yet again. When he saw the rise and fall of the man’s chest, he said, “You didn’t kill him?”
“No need.”
Samir shook his head. “You have real skill, but are naive. Kill him now, save a life later.”
He took a pillow and pushed it into the man’s face, holding it in place until the chest failed to move. Jennifer said nothing.
They heard a clank from outside, as if someone was kicking the wall. She motioned for Samir to investigate. He moved to the balcony and jerked the rope for several minutes before coming back inside.
“The next man is hung up in the mess of electrical wiring. It will be a little longer.”
“How long? We can’t sit in this room forever. This guy was someone’s guard relief, and they’re going to come looking for him.”
Before he could answer, gunfire shattered the night, first a few rounds, then a major firefight, with AK-47s rocking on full automatic.
Samir said, “That’s from the men at the front. They’ve made contact.”
“Just you and me now,” Jennifer said. “We can’t wait for your partner on the rope. You ready?”
He checked to make sure a round was loaded, smiled, and said, “You going to lead the way, anthropologist?”
20
My torturer moved the scalpel to my bare chest, and I began screaming into the gag, shaking my head to let them know I wanted to talk. Anything to draw out the time.
He pulled out the rag of my shirt and waited.
“You guys have made a mistake. If you look at my past travel and what I’ve been doing, you’ll see I’m who I say I am. I swear. I just came from Syria, where I’m working with the Ministry of Culture on an archeological site…. Please…check it out before you do this.”
He shook his head. “You and I both know that’s not true. If you want the pain to stop, you need to give me something more. Don’t waste my time with your contrived story. Nobody in this room believes it, including you. I will ask you a question, though. How many archeological firms carry laptops full of explosives?”
The question caved in my courage, because there was no way on earth to counter it. No way for me to convince them they held the wrong man, nothing I could say that would alter the cold, hard facts of the cafe bombing.
They were going to break me. The fear swept through me, my mind racing for a way out. A way to get them to kill me, but there was nothing I could do with the two toughs to my left and right. They’d just capture me before I made it out of the room.
He leaned in again, and I prepared for the pain, channeling my rage to hang on.
A single gunshot rang out, giving him pause. After a moment of silence, another one boomed, then another, until at least four weapons were firing on full automatic.
He pulled back and looked at the old man for instructions. The boss barked something in Arabic, and the two
