“What did I do to make him so angry?”
At the Jinnah Hospital in Peshawar, a team of doctors fought to save Rebecca’s life. It was touch and go for three whole days as Rebecca was in a coma when it seemed that even the best efforts of the medical specialist couldn’t revive her. She looked so small and fragile, lying in the sterile ICU unit. Hooked up to all types of monitors, while IVs infused her with lifesaving properties, she remained in another place; Phil begged her to return to them.
Phil had informed the Faineys, who flew down immediately and never left their daughter’s side, weeping and praying for her recovery as they tried to talk her back to consciousness. Phil was always with Rebecca, pleading, scolding, bribing, and loving her. He recalled the joys of their past and talked about their future.
His tears flowed shamelessly as the unrecognizable young woman kept her silent distance. Physically, the treatment of her wounds was satisfactory, and yet, the trauma she sustained was far more significant than the physical assault. Phil would chat with her, hoping some of his words would penetrate her twilight world.
“You must visit me in Nancowry, Becks; you remember you said you would?” he asked. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful there; you’ll love it! My friends, Ismail and Zeina, came to help me find you; they’re still here, you must meet them!”
Well-wishers came by daily to ask about her, and peer at her through the glass viewing panel. Round-the-clock, she was guarded by security guards outside her room. Mr. Clooney came by with Husain Sahib, Safia and Aisha. They all hoped she would heal and perhaps give them news of Ahmad. Zeina was a regular visitor, as were Shahzad and Ismail, who, with Roddy and Yousef, had returned from their mission in the mountains.
Roddy required surgery for the injury he sustained in the shootout in the ravine; the surgeon extracted bullets from his body, and the stitches closed open wounds. A couple of day’s stay at the hospital ensured a clean bill of health, and his new friend Yousef, who also required first aid, stayed with him in sympathy.
Rehashing the events, they could see why the rescue went wrong; there was too much information out there and not enough surveillance before the operation. The saving of Ahmad and the capture of the ring leaders had proved unsuccessful, though the recovery of Rebecca accomplished the Borders group mission.
The soldiers did their best and combed the area for two days without results. The terrorists knew their terrain and had preplanned routes of escape; they were experts at getting away. Despite the massive push to recover the boy and bring the insurgents to justice, the group seemed to have vanished into thin air.
The captured assailant named Salimuddin did not talk much when interrogated by the authorities.
“It all happened so fast,” he claimed. “We just left in a hurry…I don’t know where we were going; we just followed our group leaders!”
“Group leaders?” the interrogator asked him, and he shrugged.
“What group? What leaders?” the man shouted, while a couple of soldiers worked the prisoner over.
“I don’t know!” the man sniveled and cowered under threats of more productive applications to loosen his tongue.
“We were divided into small groups and sent off to stay with relatives in other villages, far removed from the current location,” he confessed. “We had to separate and travel like a small family; those were our instructions. We were trying to stop the men who were following us; that’s when you captured me.”
He did not say anything about the whereabouts of the others. But under pressure, he was able to provide them with the names of the leaders and some others in the group, while explaining how their hierarchy worked.
Threats, intimidation, coercion, and even physical violence did not result in additional information or any change in his statements, and the officers figured he was telling the truth since he was a low-level operative and kept out of the loop as far as planning and information were concerned.
Men such as Salimuddin were merely fodder, sent to hold off the enemy, or plant bombs in densely populated areas. They believed that their final act of faith and loyalty was to go on a suicide mission. The prize for martyrdom for them, they were made to think, was a heavenly paradise filled with sensual delights, where they would receive 72 virgin maidens and 70 wives, plus everlasting happiness as a gift for their sacrifice. They looked forward to their divine reward as they detonated their jackets filled with explosives.
Just when the patient’s situation seemed hopeless, the doctors noticed a marked improvement in Rebecca’s vital signs. They said this was a wait-and-see change; the young woman was not back to normal health yet. However, her parents and Phil were elated, and they continued to pull her back to them with their love.
And finally, three days after her escape, she moaned when she tried to move. For Phil, that was the loveliest sound she could have made. Through swollen, black, and blue eyes, half shut from her injuries, she looked around, obviously wondering where she was.
“Mom…Dad…” she whimpered through bruised lips. She saw Phil and murmured, “You…came…for…me!”
“Yes, darling! We’re all here for you!” Mrs. Fainey cried, with tears of relief running down her face.
“You’re safe now, Becky,” Phil assured her. “No one can hurt you now!”
“Just get well, sweetheart,” said her father. “We’re going to take you home!”
It seemed too much for her, and she went back to sleep, leaving her loved ones ecstatic that she would live and was now on the mend.
“Try not to tire her out,” he doctors advised. “Even the slightest exertion will exhaust her now.”
When the others heard the good news, they were delighted and commented on her bravery and strength. With their mission accomplished, the three students from the Borders institute realized they would have to return soon. Phil was not leaving before Rebecca was safely back in the United States and took a month’s leave, as did his colleagues. They all wanted to see this through the end, which meant getting Rebecca fit to fly. They all hoped for the recovery of Ahmad, too.
The next day, Rebecca was more alert when she awoke.
“Ahmad! Ahmad!” she cried out frantically as Phil rushed to her side, trying to calm her.
“It’s okay, Becks,” he assured her while she looked around wildly, trying to get her bearings. “Everything is fine.”
“Phil? It’s you?” she questioned, looking like a lost little girl.
“Yes, it’s me,” Phil replied. “You gave us a scare, Becky! We thought we had lost you!”
“Ooh…everything hurts! Ow! Ow!” she managed a smile through her pain and felt a sense of joy she hadn’t experienced in a long time. “Phil, oh, Phil… it’s so good to see you.”
She held up her bandaged arm and touched Phil’s face. She stretched further and hugged him. She did not want to let go and sobbed against his shoulder. Phil, who had never seen Rebecca cry like this, was overcome with sorrow for his friend and sobbed with her.
“It’s over, Rebecca. You’re safe now,” he held her gently and tried to soothe her. Not ready to let go, she clung to him and looked around her sterile surroundings, gathering she was in a hospital, but not in America. She tried to clear her mind by shaking her head, but that hurt.
“What had happened?” she whispered. “How did I get here? Mom, Dad, Phil; how are you all here? Where am I? Ahmad?”
“The doctors want you to remain calm, Rebecca!” her father whispered. “Plenty of time to answer your questions.”
She loosened her grip on Phil and looked up at him with eyes full of fear. “Phil, is this the same hospital that Gulnoor goes to, where I saw the girl with the flyers? They’ll come back for me if they know I’m here! This time, they’ll kill me!”
“Calm down, my love,” her mother was beside her, stroking her brown hair. “You’re safe now; no one’s going to hurt you again!”
“Oh, Phil, I have so much to tell you. They killed Ron! They tried to kill me! Now they’re going to harm Ahmad,” she couldn’t stop the words as panic rose and bubbled up within her. She tried to move her feet to get up but realized they were heavy and hurt. Looking down, she saw both her bandaged legs and cried out, “What have they done to me? Where am I?”
“You’re in a hospital in Peshawar,” Phil told her. “We’ll get you home as soon as the doctors give the okay to fly. Mr. Clooney has arranged for an air ambulance to take you back to the States.”
Bits and pieces of her memory came flooding back; Rebecca remembered Gulnoor’s hospital visit and the two women who tried to rescue her and the fiasco that ensued.
“They dropped Gulnoor back at the apartment; she was crying and begging her husband not to hurt me,” Rebecca rambled on, not making any sense to her listeners.
They had returned to the camp, driving at breakneck speed; Rebecca recalled thinking at the time that her end would come when the vehicle crashed, but that was not to be. Abdullah had dragged her to see Mullah Shaheen right away. Things had moved so fast; she did not precisely recollect what happened, but they had taken her to the men’s cave.
Initially, she thought they would finally get rid of her. They did not need her anymore, especially after the trouble she had caused. But something told her it was more than that. Had she seen Ahmad? Did he rush to her side to save her? She had flashes of incomplete memories that frustrated her.
“What did you do?” the man screamed so much closer to her face that she could smell the spices on his breath. Mullah Shaheen had never touched her before, but then she had never seen him this angry before either. Now he slapped her across her face, banging her head on the cave wall.
“What did I do to make him so angry?” she wondered. It was a while before she remembered her note. Had it worked?
She recalled Mullah Shaheen facing her menacingly, pointing his finger at her, almost poking her in the eye.
“Take a message from me to the infidels,” he roared. “If you survive, tell them to stop following us or else; the next casualty will be Ahmad!”
Then two men held her while Shaheen hit the soles of her feet with the butt of his rifle. She had screamed from the pain and then she blacked out and didn’t remember anything.
“I can’t remember everything, Phil.” Rebecca cried, exasperated by the blanks in her memory.
“You’ve had a dreadful shock, Becks; your mind and body have suffered a terrible trauma,” Phil reminded. “Blocking out the horror is your mind’s way of protecting you; be patient; it’ll all come back to you soon enough.”
Rebecca kept seeing Ahmad’s face in her mind; she couldn’t shake the image that haunted her. Looking around her present surroundings to clear her head, she realized there was another person in the room, an aristocratic-looking local man who had an ugly scar on his cheek. There was a tall, gracious woman beside him. The minute she saw the woman’s eyes, she knew who she was.
“Are you Ahmad’s mother?” It was more of a statement than a question. She frowned; Ahmad’s parents were supposed to be dead.
“Yes, Ahmad is my son,” the woman replied. “He was taken from us five years ago, and we’ve been searching for him ever since, hoping he’s alive.”
Phil explained who the couple was and how much the chieftain was responsible for her recovery.
“My son, you have seen him? You have spoken to him?” the man asked anxiously. “Please tell me, Miss; is he okay?”
“I hope so…I do hope so! He’s the sweetest boy. We must find him!” Rebecca promised as Phil sought to calm her when the doctor came in, smiling firmly but shaking his head.
“It’s best to let her sleep,” the doctor advised and asked the visitors to leave as he injected a sedative into her IV bag.
“Rest now, and everything will be all right. We’re doing everything to find Ahmad,” Phil said, and Rebecca pulled at his shirt with her bandaged hand, not wanting him to leave.
“Don’t worry, Becca. I’m going to stay right here. I have no intention of leaving you now that I’ve finally found you.”
“Ahmad…Ahmad…” she slurred her words as the medication began to kick in.
“Rest, Becks; plenty of time to talk later,” Phil advised as he gently stroked Rebecca’s hair and kissed her forehead.
“They’ll harm him…too little time…must find Ahmad…” she murmured, even as her eyes began to close, and she drifted off into a deep sleep.