Indira Jackson - Rayan - Son of the Desert

Two hard hours later they arrived at grandmother Eleonora’s place, where she lived together with her husband Youssef. They knocked on the door and got her out of bed.

Eleonora was the reason why Rayan had blue eyes, in spite of his Arabian lineage. She had passed them onto her daughter Miriam, Rayan’s mother. Eleonora came from Germany and had stayed in Arabia because of her love for Youssef. In the same hut they still lived in, their only daughter Miriam had been born.

In spite of Eleonora being at least 60 at the time, she was agile and quick and everyone that knew about her temper was careful not to aggravate her.

After a brief explanation, the friends left the severely wounded Rayan with the elderly woman and continued onwards, in order to get themselves to safety somewhere else.

Eleonora was horror-struck by the sheer number of bloody wounds on Rayan’s back. When she began to clean them with gentle movements, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Even in the unlikely event that Rayan was physically strong enough to survive this torture, he would be blemished and severely scarred for the rest of his life, not to mention any of the mental consequences.

Colonel Abboud’s people called it a day.

A few hours of steaming in his own sweat would not be bad for the prisoner. They would eventually succeed in breaking him anyway. Tomorrow was another day and after the announcement that His Excellency was leaving the city early in the morning, despite all the events, they now had all the time in the world.

Therefore they put Ashraf in a cell, which was more of a stinking hole than anything else. However, it failed to distress Ashraf, who was happy about the only thing he needed: a small window, or, in this case, rather a narrow slit.

Immediately he took off his clothes and hung them out of this tiny window. It took him some time to hang them up, as it was high above the ground, but after some effort, half of it climbing, half of it just throwing, he managed to do so. This was the sign for Ali that he was inside the cell now and showed him exactly where to find him.

Ashraf’s body ached in several places from the rough handling by the policemen, but that was a side-effect he could live with, it would heal soon enough; and in case he did not succeed in getting away from here quickly, his health would not be worth anything anymore anyway.

He just hoped that his cousin would keep to the agreement. Surely he had heard as well, that the assassination had failed? After all, Ali had ears everywhere.

When it was past midnight, Ashraf was in a state of severe depression. Then, to his relief, he heard the agreed whistle. It was the nicest sound he had ever heard. Happily he replied to the whistle in the same manner.

He expected to hear some explosion or something abnormal; instead, he just heard the dangling sound of some keys and then a flickering light could be seen in the hallway that led to the cell. With a torch in his hand and a broad smile on his face his cousin was standing in front of him. “Well cousin? Did you start to doubt your old cousin Ali?”

"Hell, Ali! What are you doing? Are you insane?“, Ashraf shouted at him. With a sour face, which showed that he was offended, Ali opened the metal bars to the cell: “You could be a little bit more grateful.”

However, Ashraf did not have time for his cousin’s feelings, as he expected the Colonel’s men to arrive any time soon: “for sure they are not going to let us walk out of here just like that! We will get caught and then what benefit is there to us when we are both just sitting here? How will we get out then? Eh?“

"Don’t be such a sissy, the guards are all sleeping deeply, like babies, you know? In the end this is just a normal police station and nothing else…” Well, when Ali was right, he was right. The usual policemen were known for not taking their job too seriously. “But what about the Colonel’s men?“, Ashraf asked. They would not be fooled so easily.

"One of them has bitten the dust outside, another one I managed to knock unconscious. You think I want to go to prison? Surely not Ali! Let’s get going, before the second one wakes up“, exclaimed Ali, full of pride.

Ashraf could not believe his luck. With a broad grin he bear-hugged his cousin. “Ali, I have clearly underestimated you!” Even though Ali had just informed him about killing a man, he did not shed a single tear. It was either them or him.

Almost too easily they reached the exit. Could it really be that simple? It struck him as strange, but he decided to wonder about his lucky fate later. Near the door that led outside were two more of the Colonel’s men, who could be easily identified by the colours of their uniforms. They were self-assured, and deep in conversation. They were keeping an eye on what was going on outside, yet they clearly did not expect anything unusual from the inside. Why should they be in any danger from inside the prison walls?

“How do we pass them?”, Ashraf whispered, barely audibly into Ali’s ear. It was essential not to make any sound now.

This had been prepared for in Ali’s calculations: instead of using the door, he lead Ashraf into the backyard of the prison.

In the pale moonlight Ashraf saw a rope hanging down from the wall. With the help of some boxes, which were lying around, it was easy for sporty Ashraf to climb the wall of the stinking and filthy backyard, normally used for garbage.

Ali had some difficulties, but eventually he succeeded as well and drew himself alongside Ashraf on top of the wall. A last glance back at the prison and quickly Ashraf was down on the outside. He gasped with relief. He was about to congratulate his cousin again when he heard a gurgling sound and something heavy falling down. He tried to accustom his eyes to the dark alley, but he could not see anything at all. "Ali?“, he asked softly. There was no answer.

That was the moment he realised something was definitely not right. He should have listened to his doubts – it had been too easy. Before he could think about what to do, he was grabbed from behind. The last thing he felt was the penetration of a needle into his throat and, with the thought that this was not the way he had planned it, all descended into darkness.

Colonel Abboud stomped around. He was in a violent temper.

He was a small man with some fat starting to show, who seemed to sweat constantly.

However, his mind was quick and always fully awake. He and his men had the reputation for being unbribable.

Neither with him nor with any of his man was it possible to fool around. They simply had no sense of humour.

For three days he had been preparing for the arrival of the Sheikh. He had drilled all his men and nearly driven them crazy, planned the ceremony and had personally taken care that they were spotlessly presented down to every last blinking button on their uniforms. The same went for the local police officers.

After all, His Excellency, who was a person of high influence, did not come here too often. Most of the time he flew with his jet directly to Alessia. At least according to the information you would hear about him.

Therefore, it was naturally in the interest of the Colonel that this experience was a special one.

Well, it had been, hadn’t it? At least in a way…he thought ironically.

He was fully aware of the reputation of the Sheikh and knew more than anything how far his influence could reach.

It was said that he had destroyed the life of men just because they had not treated him respectfully enough. The Colonel was not really sure if these rumours were true but for sure he was not willing to take the risk of finding out.