There was a murmur of agreement among the men.
“I will help you to achieve the destiny you have been given. The sacrifice you will make will be worthy of great praise from Allah,” he said with a note of euphoria in his voice.
Antonia swallowed hard. The young men had been radicalised and by the sounds of the discussion they were being asked to carry out terror attacks. But where and when? She had to find out more so they could be stopped.
“Tomorrow you will be given your forged papers, passports and your destination. When you reach the city you have been assigned to, you will be met and prepared. Then you can begin your glorious journey.”
Antonia’s heart picked up a fast rhythm. This was important. Somehow, she had to get in that tent and find evidence of the suicide attacks they were planning. But her attention was diverted when the men began to leave the tent. Slowly she stood and made sure the cover of darkness at the side of the tent hid her. The three sons, from the neighbouring tent to her own, emerged with Aalam.
Antonia wanted to take some photographs but was afraid the flash on her phone would go off. But the lightening was to give her her break. The moment it flashed lightening up the dimly lit area she took a picture of the whole group of men now standing outside the tent. Another flash crackled and sizzled across the air giving her another opportunity. She recognized another man from her row of tents. Some of them were only young teenagers.
They all shook hands with the cleric and returned to their own flimsy accommodations to await further instructions. Aalam stayed outside with another two men who stayed with him. They appeared to work with him. One of them took out a packet of cigarettes and offered them to Aalam and the other man he called Fadil and they all started to smoke. Antonia seized her opportunity and made a decision that would change her life forever.
Crouching down in the mud next to Aalam’s tent with the rain now beginning to fall, she put her phone back in her trouser pocket underneath the Burqa, and set about removing four of the pegs holding down the tent at the side. It created enough of a gap for her to squeeze her small frame underneath and wriggle through.
It was dark in the tent apart from two gas lamps turned down low. She kept her body down on the floor. Her eyes glanced underneath the nearest and first of three beds in the tent. There was a pile of the leaflets she had seen Aalam giving out earlier in the day. Watching the front of the tent, that wasn’t fully closed, she kept checking for glimpses of the men’s feet as it blew in the wind so she could confirm their whereabouts and get out quick if she needed to. Antonia reached for one of the leaflets and stuffed it inside her pocket. There was no time to see what it said.
She moved around the floor on her stomach surprised that the tent was kept clean and neatly organized. There appeared to be nothing in the tent that would indicate the organization of terror attacks. On the bed, at the top of the tent, she spied a mobile phone on top of the camp bed. Hopefully, there would be something of relevance in the phone that would help the police stop the men from carrying out their attacks.
Sliding towards the bed as fast as she could, she raised her hand and snatched the phone from the top of the bed. She pushed it into her other pocket next to her own and prayed it wouldn’t fall out. She glanced at the slightly open flap at the front of the tent moving and froze for a second. Two of the men were dropping their butts and stepping on them. They were going to come back in. A shot of adrenaline injected into her system had her moving again. She shuffled across the floor towards the hole she made in the tent to escape and gave the inside of the tent one last glance to see if she had missed something else that would help incriminate Aalam.
She glanced under the bed across from the first one near the front of the tent and found herself covering her mouth to stifle a cry. The body of the angry Syrian man she’d seen confronting Aalam about his preaching during the day lay on his side. His dead eyes stared wildly at her. He had been shot through the head.
Aalam and his friends made a move to come back inside. Antonia scrabbled to get through the hole she’d made in the side of the tent. She was just about out when she felt a heavy tug on her leg and she was being dragged back inside.
A pair of firm hands turned her over and Antonia found herself looking up at Aalam. He stared back at her widening his brown eyes with surprise.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded in Arabic. “Stealing from me?”
Antonia stared back at him, her voice paralysed in her throat. She couldn’t think of any suitable excuse to even begin to plead.
He started to chuckle.
“I saw you today. You are the lady with the pretty green eyes. Perhaps we should see what you have underneath here? I should like to have you for a wife,” he mocked.
“No. You are a holy man. You must not,” she said trying to save herself from being raped.
He grinned.
“I am more than a holy man. I am a man as well and I have needs.”
The men stood around looming over her body as Aalam held her hands above her head with one hand. He lifted her burqa and once more looked confused when he saw
