Operation: Dard and Devotion

4 | Afraid & Alliance

Lying flat on a cold stone floor caused me to shudder and I blinked rapidly to wake myself.

Seven dark, brooding figures stood from a short distance, eyeing in my direction as I suddenly realized I was far from where I should be.

I was in a cave!

It was absolutely frigid and very nearly dark, with the exception of a few old-fashioned gas lamps flickering in all corners of the room. I breathed musty, stale cave air that mingled with the stench of sweat and rain-soaked clothing. The faint sound of dripping water wasn't so far away.

This really can't be real!

"I apologize for the disadvantage of your dampened clothing, Miss Hayat Ishfaq." One of the covered men pulled off his balaclava, revealing a menacing smile. He spoke perfect English, with a slight accent! "It was raining periodically on our two-day journey here."

My mind raced with eerie thoughts as I gaped at the man.

Two-day journey!

And, how did he know my name?

All of the seven men had donned black cargo pants, black boots, and black full-sleeved shirts with black combat vests and also had their faces covered with black balaclavas, with the exception of the man who had just spoken. Only their eyes and mouths were shown.

Collectively, they all looked like evil personified.

Please, God, let this be a nightmare.

Rafaa and some of the children surrounded me on the floor, slowly awakening from their slumber. Rafaa pushed herself off from the ground and stared straight ahead, beyond the men, at a black cloth that hung on the wall with white Arabic calligraphy scrawled on it.

"Al-Tho'baan," she read, barely above a whisper.

Al-Tho'baan?

The term sounded vaguely familiar. I bit my lip, wondering where I had heard of it.

Oh my...

Yassar had told me an extremist group, Al-Tho'baan, had come to a small village six months back and tortured the inhabitants there!

Yassar!

My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to remember what had happened to him. It's been two days...

My eyes widened in the midst of my sudden epiphany as I recalled the last time I had seen Yassar. He had been shot in the throat and collapsed on the schoolhouse floor, resting in a pool of his own blood.

My shoulders sank in defeat. I had only known him for one day and he had treated me with such kindness. His family was grateful for my presence in that I would help to educate the children enough to push them out of poverty.

And I had failed, in more ways than one.

"Oh, forgive me, ladies. How rude of me to not introduce myself," said the man who had taken off his balaclava. He had dark brown eyes, with black stubble and hair, and pale skin. "My name is Faizan," he said with a smile as he knelt down at eye level with Rafaa and me.

Rafaa glared at him with such anger and spat distastefully on Faizan's face. He reeled back in shock, his eyes full of venom. In a swift motion, he pulled Rafaa up by her hair and threw her to one of the covered men.

"Nazim," Faizan called out to the dark-skinned man he threw Rafaa at, and spoke to him in Arabic. "I want this one. Take her to my chamber."

"No!" I ran forward to grab Rafaa from Nazim, but a strong arm snaked around my waist, pulling me farther and farther away from her. Nazim clasped his gloved hand over Rafaa's mouth and dragged her out of the room into a dark passageway on the right.