Authors: C. De Melo
“I have the night off,” I explained.
“
Would it be too much to ask for you to come down to the gallery?” she pleaded. “I won’t take much of your time. Suzie is wonderful, of course, but I would much prefer your input since you know your sister’s taste.”
“I’ll be happy to assist you, Naomi
,” I assured.
“Thanks so much,” she said.
Suzie’s face appeared on screen. “You can leave as soon as I arrive. Don’t worry, I’ll lock up,” I said.
She grinned.
“Thanks, Mrs. Adams.”
“And Suzie, offer our guest a glass of good wine, will you?”
“Will do,” Suzie promised before ending the call.
“That’s very thoughtful of Naomi
,” Michael commented. “I’ll go with you.”
“No need, Michael. Go ahe
ad and enjoy the movie. I should be back soon.”
He looked disappointed. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s late.”
“Naomi said it wouldn’t take up too much time. I’m sure she has an idea of what she wants to buy and just needs some assurance that it’s the right choice.”
“Okay, princess. Drive safely.”
I grabbed my purse and keys. As I made my way to the front door, I almost collided with Maria who was leaving at the same time.
“Oops, I’m
sorry, Mrs. Adams,” she said.
“No worries,” I said, barely giving her a second thought. I was surprised she wasn’t going to screw my husband in my absence.
I drove downt
own in good time and parked on the street just in front of the gallery. It was near closing time and the streets were almost devoid of cars. I walked into the gallery. Naomi held a glass of wine in her hand and was looking at one of the paintings.
Suzie stood off to the side, ready to assist. “Good evening, Mrs. Adams,” she said.
Naomi turned around and smiled. “Zoë, I’m sorry to inconvenience you.”
“Nonsens
e,” I assured, shaking my head. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.” Turning to Suzie I added, “You may go home now, Suzie. Thank you.”
“Goodnight ladies,” Suzie
said before grabbing her purse and slipping out into the darkness of early evening.
I locked the
front door after Suzie left and gave Naomi my full attention. “Now, what kind of piece would you like to see?”
Her eyebrow rose and she held my gaze steadily as she replied, “The kind that holds bullets.”
My smile faltered. “Excuse me?”
Naomi’s eyes grew cold and hard. “I believe you heard me clearly.”
My eyes went to Naomi’s hand- the one not holding the wine glass. To my shocked surprise, she was aiming a gun at me. I ran towards the back door, but stopped when I heard her cock the weapon.
“Don’t t
hink I won’t shoot you in the leg,” she warned. “My orders are to bring you in alive. Nothing was said about injuring you.”
I
turned around. “Orders? What orders?”
“This is a kidnapping, Zoë. Do as I sa
y and everything will be fine, resist and I will be forced to hurt you.”
My heart was pounding fiercely.
I remembered Lance’s words in Italy. He had described me as being a target for a kidnapping and how Michael would pay a king’s ransom for my safe return.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked breathlessly.
“It’s nothing personal against you. This is just business.”
“My husband will pay the ransom- there’s no need to hurt me,” I assured.
Naomi’s brow creased into a frown. “I’m not kidnapping you for money! I don’t want any ransom.”
My mouth went dry. “Then what is this about?”
Naomi cocked her head to the side. “It’s about your husband and the people he’s involved with.”
Michael’s dalliance
with terrorists…
My mind reeled
. “What about Maddy?”
She
shrugged. “Just a means to an end.”
“To get to me?”
“That’s right.”
“My sister really cares
about you…she may be in love with you.”
Naomi shrugged.
“Oh well.”
I was frowning now, too.
“Are you the one who ransacked my house?”
“
My colleagues did that.”
“
And when you didn’t find what you were looking for, you decided to go this route,” I said bitterly. “You’re nothing but a common crook!”
“R
egardless of what you think of me, your life is now in my hands. And if you want to remain alive you will shut up and do exactly as I say,” she retorted, pointing the gun at me. “Come on, we have to go now.”
Naomi led me
outside through the back door where her white Jaguar was parked in the lot.
“
Freeze!”
We both turned around at t
he sound of the woman’s voice. My mouth hung open when I realized it was Maria! She wore a fierce expression and had a gun aimed at Naomi.
“
Maria?
” I asked incredulously.
“Game’s over, Bushra,” Maria said. “Drop your weapon.”
Bushra?!
I looked to Naomi, confused. She ignored me and disobeyed Maria’s command.
“I
said
drop your weapon,
bitch
,” Maria shouted loudly with a scowl on her face. “Put the gun on the ground slowly.”
“You’ve got nothing on me,” Naomi said defiantly.
Maria cocked her gun. “Put the gun down NOW or I swear I’ll blow your fucking head off!”
Naomi held out the gun as she slowly b
ent to the ground. “Okay, okay!”
“Slowly…
do it
slowly
,” Maria said.
Suddenly Naomi dropped to the grou
nd and started shooting. Maria’s gun went off, creating bullet holes across the door of the Jaguar. I covered my ears and as they shot at one another. Maria was hit and fell to the ground. Naomi stood up immediately and there was a look of satisfaction on her face as she muttered under her breath. She then looked around to be sure there was no one in sight.
Naomi waved the gun at me.
“Get in the car now!”
I was in such a state of shock
at seeing Maria get shot that I just stood there. Naomi shoved me hard and I stumbled forward, almost falling on my face. I began to walk towards the passenger side door and she yanked me back by the hair. I yelped aloud from the pain. She opened the driver’s side door and indicated that I should enter the car through there.
“Give me your purse
and your wrist-phone,” Naomi said as soon as she slid behind the steering wheel.
I
handed her both items without hesitation and she threw them carelessly into the back seat. Next, she tossed a black satin bag onto my lap.
“Put this on over your head.”
I couldn’t help crying. “Please…”
“Look, Zoë, I don’t want to hurt you but I will if I have to. Just do as you’re told and everything will be okay,” she said in a reasonable tone.
I obediently placed the bag over my head. Thankfully, the opening was wide enough at the bottom to allow me to breathe comfortably. Naomi started the engine and within minutes we were traveling at a fast speed. I assumed she avoided the main streets since it would look suspicious.
“We’re not
animals, you know,” she said at length. “We’ll put you in a comfortable room and feed you good food. There will be no torture or anything like that, so don’t be afraid. There’s really no need for you to freak out.”
“Okay,” I said from inside the confines of the bag.
“I hope your husband loves you as much as the media says he does.”
Me too
, I thought.
Naomi drove on in silence for what seemed like
a small eternity. Finally, she slowed and made a right turn onto a gravel-paved road and cut the engine.
“We’re here. You c
an take off the bag now.”
I pulled
the bag off and looked around. We were parked in front of a large colonial-style house nestled in the woods.
“Where the hell are we?” I asked.
“That would defeat the purpose of you wearing the bag, don’t you think?” Naomi pointed out. “Come on, get out of the car.”
I
got out and followed her into the house. A fireplace with an ornate wooden mantle adorned the main room, and several expensive-looking oil paintings hung on the walls.
Naomi
must have noticed my expression. “See? I told you we are not animals.”
“Your name is Bushra?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I blinked in surprise. How had Maria known Naomi’s real name?
“What kind of name is that?”
“It’s Arabic for ‘good omen.’”
How ironic
, I thought as my head turned at the sound of footsteps.
A man with dark eyes and black beard came towards us. He was holding
some kind of military assault rifle- only it looked much more lethal than the ones I remembered. He looked me up and down and then spoke in Arabic to someone in another room. An impeccably dressed man with a familiar face appeared in the doorway.
“Mrs. Adams, how good to see you again,” Al Majed said.
“Mr. Greeling,” I retorted, pretending not to know his true identity.
“Y
ou look as lovely as ever,” he said before taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. He gallantly led me to the sofa in the main room. “Please, sit down.” I sat down and he continued, “Let me assure you that this is nothing personal.”
“That’s what Naomi- I mean Bushra- said, too.”
His face became grave, concerned. “Well, she is right.” He took a deep breath. “You see, Mrs. Adams, your husband is not the hero everyone seems to believe he is and that’s unfortunate.”
“Yes, it is,” I agreed.
“In fact, he is far from being a hero.
His business practices are…
questionable
to me and my colleagues.”
“
Look, Mr. Greeling, I don’t know why I’m here, but I can assure you that my husband keeps his business affairs- questionable or not- very private. He never discusses that part of his life with me, so I know very little about it. Besides, I’ve been frozen for almost two decades…”
“Yes, we know
, but that is not why you have been kidnapped. We are not trying to get information from you, we are trying to obtain something from him,” Majed said.
I nodded in understanding.
“Naomi said this isn’t about money.”
“
That is correct. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you anything else at this time.” He stood up, which meant that our little tête-à-tête was over. “I’m sure you must be tired from all this excitement. I will have Bushra take you up to your room now.”
I stood up when she
came forward. Majed spoke to her in Arabic and then looked at me. “I hope you have a good night, Mrs. Adams. I apologize for any unpleasantness this matter has caused you. Please remember that it is nothing personal.”
“Does my husband know you’ve abducted me?” I asked. “I’m sure he’ll want to resolve this problem immediately in exchange for my safe return.”
Majed ignored my question. “If there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable, please do not hesitate to ask,” he said with a smile so maniacal it sent chills up my spine.
I
knew in that moment that he would not hesitate to put a bullet in me the same way Bushra did to Maria. I felt guilty at the thought of Maria, who spoke and acted like a street cop and got shot on my account. Was she undercover?
“Come,” Bushra instructed.
I followed Bushra upstairs. We came to a room at the end of the hall where two armed men were seated outside the door. They eyed me steadily as I passed them and went inside the room. It was clean and well furnished.
“Are you hungry?”
Bushra asked.
“No.”
“Don’t try anything foolish, Zoë.”
“Like what? Jump out a window?
”
She didn’t crack a smile. “
You can’t; they’re bolted shut.”
“Can you at least tell me what this is all about?”
She paused before responding. “Let’s just say your husband has pissed off the wrong people.”
I suspected she was referring to ‘Mr. X,’ the coalition of mega-rich oil sheiks from the UAN. Naturally, I kept this speculation to myself.
“And what is your role in this?” I asked.
She smiled sweetly. “I work for those
pissed-off people.”