Refugee Prison Break

Chapter 14

I recounted an abbreviated version of Bas's story. I used photos I had brought along showing Bas and I as teens playing in an arcade, then took out the newspaper clipping of an article in our local paper covering Bas's case.

The person who I assumed was Ali's father looked uninterested until I mentioned the Florida detention facility.

"Let me stop you right there, Miss. I am so sorry you are going through this," he said, sounding genuine, "and I sympathize a great deal. But my employer's family has spent nearly fifteen years trying to release their son, and have had no success. If you're here to ask for help, there is little I can do."

"Your employer's family? So you're not Ali's father?"

"I am Mr. Sarraf's accountant, Noor. You thought this was Mr. Sarraf's house?"

I had somehow found the wrong address. But talking with the family accountant seemed a good place to start.

"I've read a lot about what Ali has gone through and the efforts made to free him. Endless court hearings, requests for evidence, referrals to other government departments. Ali's experience is what I fear Bas is heading for. I will not let that happen! I am here today to ask you to help me with a whole new approach."

At this, I took out my degree certificate and handed Noor my business card.

"I am a trained engineer. My plan is to dig a tunnel and free Bas the old fashioned way. If you help, I can make sure Ali is in the tunnel with us when we make our escape."

Noor burst into laughter. The two guards, who had remained in the room, laughed along, even though I doubted they understood what was being said.

I continued in the face of ridicule. "I have completed a provisional study, surveying the surrounding area, identifying possible entry points and alignments, and budgeting for the equipment and manpower required to pull this off." I handed a folder to Noor as he wiped away tears of amusement.

"This looks interesting," he said, regaining composure and leafing through my diagrams and tables. "One hundred and twenty thousand dollars? OK..." He crossed his legs, then motioned for me to take a seat. I had been standing the whole time. "Please."

"I know this sounds crazy and far fetched," I said, watching Noor scrutinize numbers and maps. "But it's worth a try, right? How much has the family spent on lawyers? A week's fees is probably just as much, and look at where years of that has got!"

"This is everything you have? I see you don't have a layout of the prison. Do you know what cell number your friend is in? Is that where you plan to exit your tunnel?"

"Uh... I'm still working some of the details." I had had trouble finding schematics of the facility as, as might be expected, they weren't freely available online. Moreover, it was hard for me to get details from Bas because of the limited time he was allowed on calls.

"And your plan once you get your friend out? Do you leave the country immediately? Do you lay low for a while? There's nothing in your budget for being a fugitive."

"I'm still working on that too..." I said sheepishly. I could sense my pitch faltering.

Noor assessed me with skepticism. He cleared his throat. "Look..."

"Please, Noor, Sir, understand I only started planning this a few weeks ago, and I know there's much more to do, and if you'd prefer to have a fully detailed plan before you commit funding to my scheme, I can come back in a month and have everything calculated to the millimeter, cent, and second!"

"Miss," said Noor, "it's not just about the details..."

"And if it's the money you're worried about, then..."

"If you could let me speak, please. Frankly, it's about the principle. What you're proposing is a serious, serious crime. You could land in jail yourself for longer than Ali and your friend combined. The Zaidi family respects the law. That's why they have played by the rules all these years. And..."

"And look how that's worked out!" I suddenly felt desperate.

"You are right, Miss, this all does sound crazy. For all I know, you could be working for the FBI, or the CIA, in an attempt to frame or discredit the Sarrafs, and it..."

"I can promise you I am not!"

"And it is my duty to protect them." Noor glared at me. "I am sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. In addition, I am warning you, do not to try and contact the Sarrafs in any way ever again. I will be sending a notice around to the security staff..."

"You can't do that! You don't speak for the Sarraf family!"

"As a matter of fact, I can and do. Now," said Noor, nodding at the guards, "please have a pleasant journey home."

I huffed in rage. "Whatever! Ali can rot in that swamp dungeon forever while you pretend to do your best for him out here. I'm going to execute my breakout even if it means I have to rob a bank first!"

I pivoted on me feet and marched out without looking back.

On the bus to my hotel (I didn't have enough cash for another taxi), I cried at my failure and my out-of-control outburst. I felt stupid and childish. For the first time since resolving to free Bas, I doubted whether I could or should carry on.