Local time – 7:40pm, Sunday 17th June, 2011.
Rawalpindi, Pakistan.
It was the first time Alex had seen any hesitation in this violent man. It seemed to be dawning on him that he was completely on his own. His gun, which before was held taut in his hands, was now wavering. Henry sensed his indecision too.
‘You want the weapon to save your country! We need it to save our country too. But we have to help each other. Help us and we’ll help you.’
Alex held her breath, waiting for another outbreak of shooting. Much to her horror, he started moving towards her, sweat pouring down his face. The gun steadied again. It was being pointed straight at her.
‘Don’t move.’ Henry threatened. But threats from an unarmed man were worthless. The other man kept moving.
‘You give me the code, or I shoot her.’ Tears blurred Alex’s vision. Her heart beat so fast, she felt like she was having a heart attack.
‘No. It doesn’t work like that. We will help each other. Put your gun down. If you kill her, I can’t help you with the code.’
Alex didn’t have time to consider the implications of Henry’s lie. She didn’t have half a code, any more than he did. But whatever his plan was, it was working. The Pakistani was now thoroughly confused about what to do next. To Alex’s small relief, he stepped away from her, though still pointing the gun in her direction. He glanced down at a sports bag, which had been left next to the front wheels of the truck. Bending his knees, and keeping his eyes on Alex, he picked up the bag and walked back towards her.
‘We will talk. Get up. Get up or I shoot.’ Alex glanced at Henry, who nodded. She crawled out from beneath the cabinet, her satchel dragging on the ground. When she stood up, she felt she was inches away from the barrel of the gun. The Pakistani man was no taller than she was, and from this distance, she could see the deep hostility in his face. With each word he said, his confidence seemed to be mounting.
‘Both of you. Walk. Walk to bathroom.’ Alex didn’t move. The bathroom was the last place she wanted to go. She had seen what happened to people in the bathroom. Henry moved closer to her.
‘You can’t shoot us. Put the gun down and we’ll come with you.’
‘No. You both walk. Walk now.’
At that moment, Alex expected the Pakistani to shoot. She braced herself to be shot. He seemed to use the gun as a way to let off steam, and the tone of his voice indicated his pent up tension. Henry took Alex’s hand. Her limbs felt like stone, but when Henry pulled her forward, she managed to gingerly move with him, back towards the frosted glass door. She looked at Henry, begging him to help her. But he could offer no comfort; he seemed almost as frightened as she was. The Pakistani prodded their backs alternately with the gun as he shoved them forward into the female bathroom. The three of them had to step over the large dead Pakistani on the ground.
‘Sit down! By the sinks! Sit!’ The Pakistani barked, waving the gun at Henry, who sat, and then at Alex, who did the same.
They were in the small washing area, which had three white porcelain sinks standing in a row. The man crouched down, holding the gun in front of him. He unzipped the sports bag with his free hand. Alex could immediately see from the contents of the bag what was in store for them. First he pulled out two sets of handcuffs, and made them sit on the ground. He roughly cuffed their wrists behind them, around the outlet pipes attached to the sinks. The metal pinched Alex’s skin and the angle of her arms strained her shoulders. Henry jostled with the man slightly, but since he still held a gun, he let him do the cuffs up without resistance. Alex’s bag was still draped across her chest, and she shrugged it sideways. The Pakistani put the gun down, now satisfied that the captured pair were secured. He then pulled items out of the bag, and Alex felt the blood drain from her when she identified each implement’s use. Lighters. A hack saw. Pliers. A long, thin cane of bamboo. Every instinct told her to struggle. But she could still see the gun. Henry sucked in air like he was struggling to breathe. The man arranged the tools across the sports bag, neatly lining them up like a surgeon preparing for an operation. Alex knew then there was a fate worse than death. Josh and Phil had escaped this fate, but she and Henry were about to feel its full force.