She put up one hell of a fight not knowing what else to do even though it was inevitable and her fate was sealed. Aalam peeled back the burqa from her face and said something in Arabic that would not translate. He stared at her for a while making her hold her breath.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “A western spy?” he demanded in English.
She decided the best way was to come clean.
“I am just a journalist. I am writing about the conditions everyone has to face in the refugee camps, that is all,” she said as she slipped into her native tongue.
“So why are you here in my tent?” he bellowed at her narrowing his eyes.
“I-I…”
She froze.
“You are here to see what you can find out about my plans for your country, Englishwoman,” he answered her in her own language. “You cannot save it. We will have our revenge on your people and those of our own who will not learn.”
Aalam suddenly gripped her throat and began to squeeze the air from it. Antonia fought to catch her breath.
He stared into her eyes and the journalist felt bile rise as she kicked and spluttered trying to breathe.
“First, I am going to rape you. While I do, Nadil will bring the Syrian girls you pretend are your own to me. They will come with me. Call them my insurance to stop you writing for your newspaper and exposing me.”
Antonia went wild, desperately trying to kick out at him as she tried to breathe in her constricted throat, terrified for Nazila and Qaifa.
Aalam laughed amused by her fear.
Angry tears sprang down Antonia’s cheeks onto her reddening face to cascade over the hand closed tightly around her throat.
He trailed one finger down the side of Antonia’s cheek and leaned in close to her face. The jihadist fighter stopped laughing and spoke quietly serving to make his words all the more menacing for it.
“Then I will kill you.”
Chapter 9
Antonia ran her hand through her hair in the bed not wanting to recollect the rest of the story. Her whole body was trembling so much the glass of water fell from her other hand onto the floor. It bounced onto the carpet spilling water but did not break. She looked down at it feeling panic and fear rise inside her body. All she could think of was getting out of the bed and running away.
She couldn’t stand the way Botelli was looking at her with her severe critical face. Her handsome rescuer was by her side as she threw the covers off ready to find some way of getting off the bed and out of the room. She hadn’t realized how hard she was crying. The journalist felt embarrassed and humiliated just as she had done a week ago in that tent.
“I told you she needs a break,” she heard Gabriel growl at Botelli.
“Relax. You are safe here. There is nothing to be frightened of or embarrassed by,” he whispered gently placing his hand on her shoulder.
The simple action was of great comfort. It was as though he poured his strength into her and gradually she calmed. The agent lifted her legs to put them back in the bed and cover her with the sheets and blanket again. With his help, she lay back on the pillows and turned her head away. Then she felt his fingers in her hair from behind and again her emotion calmed into a temporary lull. Slowly she turned her head back to look at them both and noted he did not return to his seat but stayed by her side guarding her from Botelli’s insensitivity.
“I wish I could give you a break Ms King but time is tight.” There was a sudden clear note of sympathy in Botelli’s voice. She was making an effort. “I know this has been traumatic for you but I need to know what happened.”
Gabriel briefly touched Antonia’s arm directing her attention to him. “You don’t have to talk about your rape right now. Just tell us how you escaped. Did you manage to hold on to Aalam’s mobile phone?”
Antonia nodded and made an effort to bypass the fear and the images torturing her mind. She could still smell his breath and almost feel it on her face as though the whole episode was happening again. But Gabriel Malinov came to her rescue again. It was as though he knew her thoughts and understood she might be reliving the whole sorry episode.
“Focus on me and the memories will fade. Take a deep breath and go past them in your mind. I am here and you are safe,” his voice was low and deep providing her with warm reassurance. “We can visit this again when you are ready to. What happened?”
Antonia took a deep breath and felt his hand cover her own lying on the bed to give her more of his strength.
“When he’d finished…” she stuttered. “He spat on my face, pulled me up and dragged me out of the tent. I thought I was going to die. He’d hit my face and body and I was disoriented. It was hard to keep conscious.”
She touched the side of her mouth and jaw with her free hand remembering the bruise she had done her best to hide with make-up.
“I was lucky. There were three Ethiopian men walking towards us. He hadn’t expected to see anyone. They looked at me with horror on their faces and decided to take pity on me and help. Outnumbered, Aalam had to let go of me. One of them told me to run and get help.”
Antonia felt her
