Ali nodded. “Clean him up, move him to a nicer cell, and get him some water.”
I smiled. Information is power. I thanked God for the files we received from our men in Algiers.
“He won’t protect you forever,” Tarek muttered as he closed the cell door.
The next time I saw Ali, he was in a bad mood. A very bad mood.
As soon as they entered my new cell, he shouted at the guards, “Tie him up.”
“Why? What—”
One of the guards punched me in the jaw. My head slammed against the wall and I fell into darkness.
My world was upside down when I came back to my senses. I was in the dungeon, but this time blood dripped from my nose. Tarek stood in front of me, his fists and chest blood-stained.
“What the hell happened?” I shouted. “Ali, what the hell—”
“You lied to me.” Ali’s voice came from behind me, as a razor-sharp pain pierced my side.
“Aaaah,” I screamed. A blade cut through my flesh. “Aaaaaaah.”
I tried to think why Ali might be furious, but my mind went blank. I had told him the truth and given him no reason for this reaction.
Ali circled me, howling in my face like a rabid beast. “You said there was no rescue mission. Now I hear that your partner, a crazy witch, is tearing up Tripoli, looking for you and the hostages.” He wiped the blade on my face, right under my cheekbone, slicing my skin. Blood oozed down, blinding my right eye.
“I… we didn’t talk about that. I said—”
Tarek interrupted me with a quick blow to my stomach. Blood bubbled in my throat, and the room began to spin around.
“Throw him face down on the table,” Ali shouted at the guards. “I’ll cut him up like a lamb.”
I struggled, but the guards overpowered me. I closed my eyes, wishing I could turn off the pain and shut down my body just as easily as my mind. But there was no escape. A flurry of blows came from both guards.
“Easy, easy,” Ali said. “I want him to be awake for this. I want him to feel every second of this pain.”
His knife pierced the skin under my shoulder blade. I bit the table, trying to kill the pain and my screams. Ali’s trained hands followed the curve of my shoulders, the blade travelling down my spine, carving a long strip of skin and flesh.
“Ah…” I muffled my scream and writhed in agony.
“Ask me,” Ali whispered in my ear. “Ask me to kill you and end your misery.”
“F… fuck you,” I spat out.
Tarek’s fist landed on my head and punched me back into a world of darkness.
I had no idea how long I’d been out cold. It was dark, and I was lying on my stomach on a cold floor. I tried to turn to my side, but jolts of pain stopped me. My feet were free, but my hands were cuffed to the front. I limped to my knees, and then to my feet. Where was I? The same cell? Another cell?
My back touched a wall and a scream left my lips. My back sizzled with pain, and the torture scene came back to my mind. I tried to focus on the reason for Ali’s outburst and his actions. Why was he so enraged? Was he talking about Carrie? It had to be. She’d never allow a rescue team to go without her.
The thought of my trusted CIS partner gave me hope. If Ali was furious because of Carrie’s rescue team, that meant she was close. Very close. And maybe there was hope for the Canadian doctors held hostage as well.
I took a few steps around the cell. My feet were weak, but I could walk. I decided to save my energy and rest. I tried to sit on the floor, but as my skin stretched, I felt three snakes of pain crawling through my back. The wounds Ali had inflicted on me began seeping. Within moments I could feel my entire back covered in blood.
I cursed Ali and the guards, and ignored the aches surging through my back. The wounds felt superficial. If no ligaments and muscles were severed, I would be as good as new in a few weeks. There would be some scars, but the wounds would heal. The grave marks carved in memory would take much longer to heal. Some might never heal.
I kept pacing. I needed an escape plan, in case Carrie’s team couldn’t make it. But what could I trade with Ali? What could buy me some time? The intel about his rival’s terrorist network and the people wanting him dead was repaid with a slashed back. Maybe he would be more thankful for a favor for his family. His sons? Yes, his younger son.
I heard keys rattling, and someone opened the door. Then they turned on the ceiling bulb. I raised my hand to protect my eyes from the blinding light.
Tarek was the first one to come in. “You’re alive?” He spat on the ground.
Ali hobbled in after a second man, one I hadn’t seen before.
“Leave us,” Ali told Tarek.
I locked eyes with Ali and then with his bodyguard.
“Why?” I asked when Tarek had left the cell. “I gave you good intel. This is how you pay me back?”
Ali shrugged, then sighed. “I checked and I know your intelligence was good. But I had to do it. Your friends killed three of my men and almost found the safe house and the hostages. If not me, then it would have been Tarek. And he would have not been that kind.”
“Kind? We have a different concept of the word.”
“I have three dead men, and you have three scars. I think that’s fair.”
I kept silent, ignoring a throbbing pain in my chest.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” Ali asked.
My eyes went to his bodyguard. I didn’t recognize him from the office files.
“You can speak freely,” Ali said. “He can be trusted.”
“Can you? I’m not interested in more scars.”
“I thought we were over that. As long as your friends make no moves, you’re safe.”
“Give me a phone, and I’ll make sure of that.”
Ali laughed. “No, no phones. I know about code words and phone interceptions. I can’t have you talking to anyone.”
“You know she’ll try again and again until she finds me.”
“We’re moving you tonight, so that’s not going to happen. Now why don’t we worry about making your stay with us more pleasant, shall we? Who else wants to kill me?”
“The list is so long, where do I start?”
Ali smiled. “With the most dangerous.”
“No, I have a different idea. How about we talk about your boy, Mustafa?”
Ali’s bodyguard took a step forward, his shoulders rising up at the mentioning of Ali’s younger son.
“Leave my son out of this,” Ali said. “This is between you and me.”
“Yes, but it involves him. In a good way.”
Ali shook his head. “I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Maybe, but it will help him hear.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion, or perhaps irritation. “What? What did you just say?”
“I said I know how to help your son hear.”
Ali craned his head. “Mustafa lost his hearing five years ago, shortly after his birth. But how do you know that?”
“It’s my job. And you’re almost correct. Your doctor at the Algerian hospital told you that. Have you sought a second opinion?”
Ali sighed. “Of course I have. We saw two other doctors. Both trained abroad, in the UK and Germany. They both said there’s no hope.”
“There’s always hope. I know of a specialist in Europe who’s renowned for returning hearing to many patients like your son.”
Ali swallowed hard and looked at his bodyguard, who returned a blank stare.
“What do you have to lose?” I asked.
“How would this work?”
“I’ll make the arrangements. You can send your wife and your son, since you’re on so many no-fly lists.” I offered Ali a small smile.