“Okay, Mia.” Steve exhaled loudly. “I will try to help you. Don’t worry, I’ll work something out. Where are you now?”
They heard a muffled conversation, then, “It’s a place called Sarmin, near Idlib.”
“Okay, I’ll work something out. I’ll call you.”
“Uncle Steve, the phone, we turn it off to save the battery. We can’t always charge it. There’s no power here.”
“Damn. Okay, ummm…”
“Tell her we’ll call her the same time tomorrow. To turn on the phone then,” John suggested.
Steve nodded.
“I heard that... your friend.”
“Yes, Mia. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, now give the phone to Naeem.”
Again, the sound of fumbling, then, “Hello.”
Steve leaned closer to the phone, his hands on the table, the knuckles turning white as he clenched the table.
“Now you listen to me, you worthless piece of shit, you keep them safe. This is all your fault. If anything happens to them, I will personally come and rip your fucking head off with my bare hands.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes... I’m not afraid. If Allah wills it, I will die at your hand, but... Malak, she deserves more... I’ll keep her safe. Inshallah, we will speak tomorrow.”
The call ended, and Steve straightened up, his fists clenched, his chest rising up and down. Maadhavi rubbed his back as he stared unseeing across the room.
“Steve.”
Steve blinked and turned to John.
“I’ll help you, Steve. We’ll get her out, somehow.”
Steve stared back, his eyes hard, his brow furrowed, then nodded slowly.
13
The four stood in silence, just staring at the now blank phone. John took control and spoke first.
“Marisel?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Can you make us all some coffee, please?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Steve.”
Steve looked up as if surprised they were there.
“Grab your laptop. I want to see exactly where she is.”
“Yes, okay.” Steve moved off while the other three pulled out chairs and sat around the table.
“What can we do?” Maadhavi asked, looking from John to Adriana and back again.
John pursed his lips and shrugged. “I don’t know, Maadhavi. But one thing at a time.” He looked up at Steve as he came back into the room. “We’ll see where she is and try to find out what’s happening around there.”
Steve sat down beside Maadhavi and booted up his laptop as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“What was the name of the place?”
John closed his eyes as he thought. “S... S... Sarmin.”
“Spelling?”
“No idea. As it sounds, I suppose.”
John watched as Steve typed, stabbing at the keyboard with his index fingers. Steve frowned and then said, “Here we go.” He swiveled the laptop around, so they could both see the screen, Adriana standing up and moving so she could look over their shoulders.
“Is that the Turkish border?” John pointed at the screen.
“Yeah.”
“It’s not far then. What do you reckon the distance is?”
Steve leaned closer. “Judging by the scale, forty, fifty kilometers?”
“Hmmm.” John straightened up, his hands on his hips. “There must be someone there who can help get her out. So close to the border, there must be aid camps or at least someone on the Turkish side.”
Steve pushed back his chair and leaned back, blowing out air between pursed lips and rubbed his head.
“Yeah, mate, but how do we find out?”
“I might be able to.” Steve and John turned to face Adriana. “I’ll call my office. We have freelancers reporting from there all the time. One of them should be able to help us, give us information on what it’s like.”
“Great idea.” John smiled and placed his hand on Adriana’s arm. “Can you reach them now?”
Adriana glanced at her watch. “Yes.” She looked around for her bag. “I’ll call the office.”
“While she’s doing that, we’ll search the internet and find out everything we can,” John suggested.
Steve nodded and sat forward, turning the laptop back to face him.
“What’s the wifi here, Steve?” John pulled out his phone from his rear pocket.
“Magnum P.I.”
“Ha, seriously?”
Steve looked up with a slight grin. “Yeah.”
John smiled and tapped at his phone. “Password?”
Steve held out his hand. “Here, I’ll do it for you, it’s complicated.” Steve took the phone, entered the password, then handed it back as Marisel arrived carrying a tray with four cups and a French press filled with coffee.
Steve, noticeably more relaxed now he had something to do, glanced at the tray. “Bring us some Tim-Tams too, Marisel. I’m starving.”
“Tim-Tams?” John raised an eyebrow.
“He loves them,” Maadhavi replied with a smile. She reached over and patted his stomach. “But he needs to cut back.”
“Best biscuit in the world, mate.”
“Must be Australian?”
“Of course.”
14
Adriana walked back into the room, her phone in her hand. “I’ve got a contact. We can Skype him in half an hour. A photojournalist based in Istanbul. He goes into Syria regularly.”
“Great. Coffee?” John gestured at the French press.
“No, thank you. I won’t sleep.”
“Can I get you something else?” Maadhavi stood up. “Wait, I’ll make you something special.” She left the room as Adriana pulled up a chair beside John.
“Give your phone to Steve, and he’ll set you up with the wi-fi.”
Adriana passed her phone over as John offered her a plate filled with rectangular-shaped chocolate biscuits.
“Try these. Best biscuit in the world, apparently.”
Steve looked up from her phone. “You’ll love it.”
Adriana took a bite. “Hmmm, not bad, Steve.”
“See.” He handed her phone back. “I told you so.”
John poured a coffee for Steve and himself, took a bite of a Tim-Tam, and screwed up his face. “Too sweet for me.” He passed it to Adriana.
He took a sip of coffee, then gestured at his phone.
“It says here, the region she’s in has been experiencing heavy fighting.” He looked up at Steve, “That would explain the explosion we heard.”
“Yeah, I read that, too. The Syrian Army is advancing toward Idlib, which is the closest sizable town near Sarmin.”
John leaned back in his chair, cradling the coffee cup in his hands.
“You know, I’ve not paid much attention to what’s been going on there, just the headlines now and then. We need
