Page 110 of Down and Dirty

Now, after three days, they were still bound but no longer gagged in the basement of an abandoned house near the airport. Incoming and outgoing flights could be heard overheard, day and night.

Sammy wore his sleeping outfit, which was called peejays: loose braies and a shert with little bears imprinted all over. She wore one of Zachary’s Navy SEAL tea-ing sherts, which barely covered her undergarments. They were barefooted.

And now, here was Arsallah again with his crew of camera people. Not Aljazeera, just his followers clicking away. Also accompanying him was the vicious Hakim, who took great pleasure in hurting her and Sammy; the gentler but still cruel Daoud, the man whose nose she had broken and who had taken revenge on her numerous times; and several other of their captors. With neatly trimmed beard, Arsallah was dressed in a pristine white gown and neatly pressed and folded head covering. Unlike her and Sammy, who wore the same clothing and reeked.

When they untied their arms and ankles, pain pricked Britta’s body like a thousand pins and needles. Sammy’s groan indicated he was in similar straits as blood began to circulate in their limbs again.

Sammy was first to speak for the cameras. The little boy looked gaunt from lack of food and fear. Bruises marked his skinny arms and legs, and there was a bad cut on his cheek. He could have been much worse. Britta had taken many of the blows intended for him. As a result, she had a black eye, which had swollen till her lid was closed, a cut lip, bruises and cuts marring most of her body, finger marks on her neck, and an ankle that very well might be broken; at the least, it was badly sprained. Betimes, she wished they would just kill her, but it was a momentary lapse. She must needs stay strong for the boy.

In a docile voice, he repeated all that he was told to say. “Please, father, do what they ask. America is evil. Do the good deed they demand, and I will be free. Please.”

Britta was resigned to repeating their hateful words by now, but she did so with a raised chin and defiant eyes… well, one defiant eye. Her words were somewhat slurred due to the swollen and cracked lip, but intelligible enough, she supposed. “Zachary, we are being treated well.” That was a jest, of course, that the cameras would surely reveal. “You must do as they demand. ’Tis the moral thing to do. Release the holy warriors in the name of Allah. Do as they say, and we will be released.” She would have blurted out more, but she was certain they would cut out that part.

After Arsallah and Hakim left, Daoud proceeded to retie their arms and legs. He was done with Sammy and finishing up Britta’s wrist restraints when Hakim shouted from the top of the stairs, “Hurry if you want to come for lunch.”

Hakim’s shout startled Daoud, and he jerked up from his bent position behind her. This instant of distraction allowed Britta the opportunity to flex her wrists, causing Daoud to think he was done, when in fact the rope was a little looser than usual.

“Behave, and you will be given food and water shortly,” Daoud remarked as he climbed the stairs.

“And after that, will we be killed?”

Sammy gasped at her question. Apparently women didn’t question in their culture.

“Not if you do as you are told,” Daoud replied.

The door was closed and locked. Much activity seemed to be taking place upstairs. Talking, laughter, doors slamming, cars starting and taking off. Presumably, at least some of them were going out to lunch.

This might be their one and only opportunity.

“Sammy, we’re going to try to escape.”

His eyes went wide, and he whimpered.

“I’m going to turn around. I want you to untie the ropes around my hands. They are a little looser than usual, and your fingers are small. Now, don’t start crying. This is the time to pay attention. Be focused.”

It took him longer than she would have liked. But once untied, she quickly untied the ropes around her ankles and undid Sammy’s restraints, as well. After breaking a wooden chair, keeping one of the legs for a “weapon,” she propped the chair back up at the little table so the damage would not be noticed.

“Listen to me, Sammy. This is all going to have to take place quickly. I’m going to lay the ropes loosely around our ankles, and we will put our hands behind our backs, pretending that we are still tied up. Are you listening?”

He nodded.

“When one of our captors comes in, I will wait till he comes close, then hit him over the head. You must go over and lock the door. I will break the window. Can you do that?”

He nodded again, gulping. “I’m scared.”

“I am, too, dearling, but we can do this.”

“It is a small window,” he pointed out.

“Big enough, even for a giant like me.”

He did not even smile at her mirthsome remark.

“I am going to shove you through that window first. I want you to run as fast as you can and do not look back. Do not wait for me. I will follow, but if I do not, you are still to run till you find someone. Tell them to take you to the police. Tell the police to call your father, Zachary Floyd, a Navy SEAL, and that you were kidnapped. Can you remember all that?”

“Yes, but I don’t wanna go alone.”

“I know you do not, and mayhap I will be with you. But if not, you must needs run as fast as your legs can carry you. Can you run fast?”