Chasing Tomorrow Page 8

  “Why are you here?” she asked a young man in the crowd.

  “Refugees are getting more benefits than our own people, and their assaults have made it unsafe for our women to walk the street.”

  “So you support deportation?”

  “Yes, and closing our borders, also.”

  “I’m afraid,” a young woman chimed in. “I carry pepper spray.”

  Kevin signaled to Arianna that he needed to switch batteries in his camera. They moved off to the side, away from the protests. As Kevin changed batteries, Arianna made a call to her producer in New York.

  “Steve,” she said, when he picked up, “things are really hot over here, and I have an urgent report I need to file.”

  “Arianna, good to talk to you. I heard about the scuffle you were in. Are you all right?”

  “Scuffle? More like an attempted rape, but yeah, luckily I’m fine. Now, listen. We’ve been taping at a large protest here in Cologne. We need to get this story on the air.”

  “Sure, sounds good. We’ll schedule you in next week sometime.”

  “Next week? This is happening now. Why next week? I’m ready to go. We have some amazing footage.”

  “Yeah, well, okay, uh, but what about you…your face. Miller said you were pretty banged up. Don’t think that will look too good on air.”

  Arianna’s mouth dropped open. “Yes, my eyes are black and blue, I have a gash on my forehead, my cheek is bruised, and my lip is swollen, but maybe people should see first-hand what’s going on here. There’s a major crisis happening in this country, and we need to report it. You need to get me on the air, and you need to get me on the air now.”

  “Okay, calm down. Come to think of it, you being the victim of all this violence will probably make the story more sensational.”

  “Calm down? Please don’t ever tell me to calm down. I’m passionate about my work, not hysterical.”

  “Okay, sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

  “And as far as being sensational, why would we want to sensationalize this story? It’s sensational enough without making it about me. It’s about a clash of cultures…a preview of what could be coming to the US.”

  “Okay. Okay. Let me talk to production, and see if we can get a satellite link-up. If so, I think I can get you on the evening news. You’re sure you’re ready?”

  “Absolutely. You sent me here to do a job, and I’ve got the goods. Just get me on air.”

  TRUE TO his word, Shine arranged for Arianna to be featured live on the news back in the States. NCS news anchor, Greg Evans, opened the broadcast with a headline about the unrest in Germany.

  Reporting from Cologne, we have foreign correspondent, Arianna Garrett. As you can see by the injuries to her face, she’s been the victim of mob violence. Arianna, what happened to you, and what can you tell us about what’s going on in Germany?

  Thank you, Greg. Yes, I received these injuries to my face when our film crew entered the town of Duisburg, Germany, This town is considered a refugee ‘no go’ zone. When our police escort abandoned us, we were surrounded by a group of migrants who attacked us.

  And Greg, I can tell you this is happening in several places throughout Germany. Today we visited a large protest at Cologne’s central train station. Take a look.

  The scene panned to the feminist flash mob and those interviews before switching over to the other two groups of protesters. After the last interview played, they came back to Arianna live.

  Greg, as you can see, everyone blames everyone else for the problem. I will say however, the police report that the number of sexual assault complaints has quadrupled since last year. The people tell me the only way for women in Europe to have a future is to fight this mass migration. Otherwise they fear what happens to the majority of women in Islamic States will be their future, too.

  Greg Evans came back on the screen.

  Arianna, what do the local officials have to say about all this?

  Greg, public support in Germany for the asylum-seekers has definitely dropped following all these assaults, but as you can see, not everyone blames the refugees. As far as government leaders, they’re stunned at how this issue has divided the country which has long prided itself as a model of social justice.

  Thank you, Arianna for this timely report. This story could have implications as our own nation debates whether to accept refugees from Muslim countries. Good reporting. Stay safe. Back in a moment.

  As soon as the camera stopped filming, Kevin limped forward and picked Arianna up and gave her a big bear hug. “You did it. That was a terrific report.”

  “No, we did it! You shot some amazing footage. Not bad for our first report. We make an awesome team.”

  He gave her a high-five. “Not to steal your thunder, however, I have to tell you, you look like hell…all banged up. You look like you escaped from a damn war zone somewhere.”

  She smiled and slugged him in the arm. “Shut-up, you ass, and let’s go celebrate. You’re buying.”

  RAQQA, SYRIA

  The CIA, flush with cash, made Zach an offer he couldn’t refuse. The only missions he accepted were those where the pay was commensurate with the risk. The higher the risk, the higher the fee. Masoud had laid out the details of this new assignment, and if all went well, they’d be able to complete the mission, return safely home, and enjoy the fruits of their labor. If it didn’t go well, Zach didn’t even want to think about the deadly ramifications of a mission failure.

  “These men are Mohammed and Kaseem,” Masoud said. “They’re local Syrians who work for the CIA and Pentagon. They’ll be your guides on this op. Your assignment is to locate and take down an ISIS leader in his home in Raqqa, the defacto capital of this terrorist group.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Tony murmured. “Right in the heart of ISIS territory. And just how do you expect us to get in and out of there without being noticed?”

  “Glad you asked,” Masoud said. He opened a bag and pulled out three burqas.

  “Burqas?” Zach asked, staring at the full length black garments.

  “Your new disguise. Our two Syrian friends are going to drive you right into Raqqa disguised as women. They’ll get you close enough to get coordinates needed to guide a missile right into the home of the terrorist leader.”

  “I’ve had enough burqas to last me a lifetime,” Juan said. “Women’s burqas, combat burqas. Enough already.”

  Tony pulled one of the garments over his head and twirled around. “What do you think, fellas? Does this dress make me look fat?”

  Everyone chuckled.

  “It’ll make an interesting story to tell your grandchildren someday,” Zach said.

  “Yeah, if we live long enough to have any,” Juan piped up, a forlorn look on his face.

  Zach slapped him on the back. “Buck up, buddy. I’ve studied the details of this op, and I’m confident we can pull this off. We’ll have lots of back up, so get dressed, honey. Time to go to the prom.”

  THIS WAS one for the ages, Zach thought as he, Tony, and Juan sat in the back of the Toyota pickup while their Syrian comrades drove them through the Islamic State’s de facto capital of Raqqa. This was the only way to sneak past security and locate the bunker of a jihadi commander and the Islamic terrorists who surrounded him.

  The body-enveloping burqas served as camouflage and hid the multiple assault weapons, grenades, and ammunition hidden beneath their ankle-length black gowns. Zach pitied the women forced to wear these things. They were hot, cumbersome, and impaired a person’s vision. This wasn’t freedom. This was no way for women to live, not that they had a choice. One could be severely punished for failure to be properly dressed. He had great empathy for Muslim women.

  Everywhere he looked as they rode through the city, he saw the sad evidence of war and strife. Buildings blown to bits, and a total lack of modernization were the norm rather than the exception. The city had suffered greatly from the ISIS occupation. And he knew better than to enter any of the buildin
gs. The militants had peppered the area with mines and IED’s, a defense against invasion from outside forces. He understood why people wanted to get out of here. If he lived here, he’d do whatever he’d have to do to get himself and his family as far away from this hellhole as quickly as he could.

  “Base to Black Beauty,” Zach heard crackle in his ear bud. “How do you hear me? Over.”

  “This is Beauty one. I read you loud and clear. Entering heart of city. The search is on. Over.”

  The Toyota rolled through the town without notice. Women riding in the back of the truck like cargo was a customary sight in this country. No air assets were capable of finding the terrorist’s house because so much of the city had been destroyed. Only boots on the ground could locate the secret bunker.

  They drove past a building which appeared to be heavily guarded.

  “This has to be it,” Tony said to Zach. “Only a high ranking official would have this many sentries standing by.”

  “Roger, that,” Zach said, and using a transmitter hidden under his burqa, he reported the location and coordinates to an AWAC mission control aircraft hovering thousands of feet above. The spy plane then relayed the information onto a U.S. Reaper drone.

  The driver drove the pick-up around the corner, down the street, and waited at a safe distance from the building. It wasn’t long after Zach’s transmission that a Hellfire missile hit the building, taking out the Islamic State commander and all the men guarding him.

  “Target is secure,” Zach transmitted. “Black Beauty returning to the barn. Over.”

  As the team was attempting to escape, militants in another building who heard the explosion, rushed out into the street. Jumping in front of the truck, they ordered them to stop. Pointing weapons at Mohammed and Kaseem, they yelled, “Get out of the truck.”

  Zach nodded to Tony and Juan, and to the terrorist’s surprise, the trio lifted up their burqas and opened fire. All three jihadi’s dropped where they stood. Zach banged on the truck’s roof top. “Let’s move before any more fighters show up.”

  The truck sped down the street and came upon a group of militants running toward them. Kaseem slowed the vehicle to a rolling stop, and Mohammed stepped out of the car. Zach and the team readied their weapons, preparing to also take these jihadists out if necessary.

  Speaking in Arabic and pointing back up the street, Mohammed said in an excited voice, “Back there. A large explosion. I am taking my family and getting out of the area. I saw two men dressed in black running the other way, down the street. Hurry, you might find them.”

  The militants nodded and rushed up toward the explosion. Again wasting no time, the Toyota sped out of town toward the extraction point, miles away.

  “WELL DONE,” Masoud said, when the team returned to base. “It was a confirmed kill of Nakil Amadi, chief financier for ISIS. This mission will seriously interrupt their financial network and ability to fund their operation, at least temporarily. This is good for now.”

  The burqas lay in a pile on the floor along with some of the munitions they’d taken with them. “We’re out of here,” Zach said. “Glad we could help, but it’s time to go home now.”

  Wasting no time, the men got into a car and were driven back to their hotel in Irbil. Zach tried to turn his phone on, but it was dead, as were Tony and Juan’s. Without stopping, he swiftly moved to his room once they reached the hotel. He plugged his phone in to charge while simultaneously grabbing a beer and heading toward the shower. He’d only taken a few steps when he heard his phone buzzing as it populated with incoming texts. He could tell by the quick succession of beeps and buzzes, someone wanted to talk to him badly.

  Moving back to the phone he swiped it open. He froze when he saw several messages from Raul. One in particular stood out.

  Trouble in Cologne. Arianna attacked. Injured but okay. Contact me ASAP.

  Even though it was the middle of the night, he pressed Raul’s number.

  “Zach?” came the sleepy reply. “Where are you?”

  “What happened? I got your message. What happened to Arianna? Is she okay?”

  “Yes, for the most part.”

  “What do you mean for the most part? Damnit, Raul. What the hell happened?”

  “She was in a refugee site, interviewing migrants, when a group of thugs attacked them. It was pretty much a beat down, and unfortunately, Arianna not only got knocked around, but several men groped her and tried to rape her.”

  “What the fuck! Why didn’t you stop them? What the hell were you doing?”

  “I wasn’t there.”

  “What do you mean you weren’t there? That’s your job to guard her. Where in the hell were you?”

  “Uh, it’s a long story, but someone told authorities I was carrying a weapon, and they pulled me away, claiming I had no permit and was breaking the law. I had to go with them to clear the record. The attack happened when I was getting my weapon permit straightened out.”

  “That’s bogus. Who turned you in and why? Anyway where was that little shit, Miller? Why didn’t he protect her?”

  “Because he’s useless. He didn’t want to draw his weapon because he was afraid of getting arrested…it’s a long story, but it was a disaster. I’m sorry, Zach. I should have been there. Someone fucked me over. I tried to protest, but they were going to arrest me if I didn’t go with them. I feel terrible. I failed you. I failed Arianna.”

  Silence ensued. Zach stood steeped in a cauldron of anger and despair. He thought he’d provided adequate protection for her, but in the end, protection wasn’t there when she needed it. Someone had screwed up big time. It was killing him to think of the hell she’d gone through.

  “Are you still there?” Raul asked.

  “Where is Arianna right now? Is she okay?”

  “In her room sleeping, and she’s pretty banged up, but physically okay. Emotionally…I’m not sure.”

  “I’ll be on the first plane out of here. I should be there by morning.”

  “She pulled it together and got her first broadcast on the air. If you go to the network website, you can pull it up.” Maybe if he sees the video, he’ll be less shocked when he sees her in person.

  “Roger that. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He had no more hung up when there was a knock at the door. He opened it to see Tony and Juan standing there.

  “I guess you heard,” Tony said. “I got a text from Lisa, telling me something happened.”

  Zach nodded and waved them on into his room. He pulled his iPad out of his suitcase and fired it up. “She broadcast a report. Raul seemed to think I should watch it.”

  They gathered round while the video loaded.

  “Oh, my God,” Zach shouted and jumped out of his chair when Arianna appeared on screen, her eyes black and blue, her face cut and bruised, and lip swollen and cut, too. “Son of a bitch!” He balled his hand into a fist. “Someone’s going to pay for this.”

  COLOGNE, GERMANY

  A hand on Arianna’s shoulder startled her awake. She scrambled out of bed and reached for the lamp as a weapon against the night-time intruder.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! It’s me…Zach.” He held her arm steady, so she couldn’t strike him.

  “Zach?” She released the lamp and flew into his arms, bursting into tears.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  She burrowed her face in his chest, tears flowing freely, no words coming.

  “Aw, babe, I’m so sorry. I heard what happened. Are you all right?” He stroked her hair and tried to comfort her.

  “No. No.” She rolled her head from side to side. “My face. Everywhere. I’m all beat-up,” she sobbed.

  He gently guided her away from his chest to look at her. He touched the gash above her eye, ran his knuckles down her cheek, and a finger lightly across her swollen lips. He cradled her chin in his hand and brushed kisses across her forehead and on every uninjured area of her face. “It kills me to see you like this. This sho
uld never have happened.”

  His tender words and gentle touch brought on a fresh wave of tears. “Their hands were touching me everywhere,” she cried, as bitter tears consumed her. “One man tried to rape me. I was so scared…I thought they were going to kill me.” She threw herself down on the bed and sobbed.

  “Aw, Arianna, I’m so sorry.” He reached out and pulled her to him. “I can’t stand to see you hurt like this.”

  She dabbed at her tears and let out a shuddering sigh. “I’ll get over it. This is silly. I’m being overly emotional.” She cleared her throat and tried to pull herself together. “Risk is part of the job. I just need to buck up and move on.”

  Zach shook his head vehemently back and forth. “No, Arianna. No, you don’t. Cry all you want, babe. Getting attacked like this is not part of the job, and no way do you need to buck up and act like nothing happened.”

  There was more of a quiver in his voice than his male ego preferred to show, and tears formed in his eyes. Her pain was his pain too. “Cry. Yell. Scream. Whatever you feel. What happened to you sucks. No need to try to deny your feelings.”

  “I feel totally violated.” She balled her hands into fists. “I hate those filthy men. Their hands were everywhere. And you…and you.” She was sobbing so hard she could hardly get the words out. “And you will probably never want to touch me again after this.”

  “Oh, no, no, no.” He looked her straight in the eye. “Don’t even think that…not for a second. Nothing could ever separate me from you.” He pulled her into his arms and pressed her to him.

  “Oow, easy,” she said, wincing in pain. “My shoulder and ribs…they’re all bruised.”

  He relaxed his embrace. Anger built within him. Whoever was responsible for Raul being pulled away from guarding her was going to be in a world of hurt when he found him.

  He gently kissed her. “I’m going to be right here with you. We’re going to get through this together.”