Lorna

By Ria Russouw

A rich English businessman and a South African housewife was abducted by terrorists in the barren West Coast of South Africa, they managed to escape but then had to endure tremendous hunger and thirst in the dessert. Eventually they found themselves in the Highlands of Scotland where the terrorists caught up with them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ria Russouw
• Release date: Apr 26, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476263472

Ria Russouw

Ria Russouw is a retired lady, living in Roodepoort South Africa and only started serious writing two years ago. Previously she only wrote short articles for gardening yearly magazines.

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Lorna

Copyright: Ria Russouw

ISBN 9781476263

First published 2012

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication LORNA may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means. It may not be given away or resold to any other person or organization without the written permission of the author.

The characters in this book are not based on any living or dead persons.

English spelling as opposed to American spelling was used throughout this book.

An old Scottish remedy for aches and pains:

"To make Lily of the Valley Water: Take the flowers of Lily of the valley and distill them in sack, and drink a spoonful or two as there is occasion. It restores speech to those that have the dumb palsy. It is good against the gout; it comforts the heart and strengthens the memory; and the flowers, put into a Glasse, close stopt, and set in ane hill of ants for a month, then take it out, and you will find a liquor which comes from the flowers, which put in a vial; it is good, ill or well, and whether man or woman."

Likewise for sprains and muscles, add a bit of onions mixed with the fat of the black cat, rub it in; and for the colic; a great spoonful in the hour. It will also help to run four times around the burrow of a fox for the muscles to become loose.

Lorna

CHAPTER 1

The luxury coach was cruising along the dry and hot landscape of the West Coast of South Africa, after leaving Cape Town early that morning. The passengers were eagerly looking forward to the next stop to stretch their legs and to view the lovely fields of wild flowers so well-known in this part of the country. The passengers consisted mainly of foreign travelers; and Rick MacKay with his wife Jane, from the United Kingdom, had chosen this tour so that they could experience the country at first hand. A plane trip, though faster, would have meant that they could only see the landscape from the air. Driving himself was just not an option for Rick, as he wanted to relax and rest from his usual hectic schedule. They could have hired a local tour guide with a private vehicle, but somehow, the bus trip sounded better to Rick.

Jane, on the other hand, was as usual complaining about the heat, the cramped seat and the slowness of the trip. Rick tried to ignore her and wondered why he had brought her on this holiday, knowing this was not her kind of activity at all, but he wanted to give their rocky marriage a last chance. He thought that for the two of them to be alone for a while would bring them closer together.

He had always wanted to see the country and thought that this relaxed and laid-back holiday would be just right for them. He was so tired of luxury holidays all over the world and wanted to experience something quite different. Being a billionaire, he could very well afford only the very best in destinations and Jane made full use of this when she planned a holiday, usually without her husband.

Rick was a more down to earth person. The simple pleasures of riding or driving around his estate in Scotland was in itself a holiday, and he eagerly looked forward to the few times a year when he could get away from running his hotel chain and other business enterprises. Nowadays his son was taking over more and more of the responsibilities and he found himself with a bit more time on his hands.

Jane, two years younger, was a social butterfly. She loved her parties and her various welfare organizations. She was therefore well- known and highly thought of by many people for her generous contributions wherever help was needed. With so much money to spread around, nothing gave her more pleasure than to see the joy on the face of a starving child when she handed over a package of food, whilst she herself never forgot to keep her best smile for the ever-present cameras. She always made sure that she was never too far away from civilization, which meant comfortable and luxurious accommodation.

Jane blamed her hectic lifestyle for letting herself go. Her slight plumpness did nothing to improve her fading looks but the best beauticians and fashion houses did much to hide this. This trip was not to her liking but she had decided, although halfheartedly, to make the best of it for Rick’s sake. After all, he had made the effort to save what little was left of their marriage. They had been steadily drifting apart over the last few years and found that apart from their two children, now grown up, they had very little in common.

Three black-robed mid-Eastern women were seated at the rear of the coach. Their faces were covered by black veils with only their glittering and observant dark eyes showing. They were keeping to themselves, talking to one another in hushed voices as well as occasionally talking softly on their cell phones in a foreign language but this was not unusual as this excursion to view the flowers was well attended by people from all over the world.

With a buzz and a click the intercom came alive. The tour guide announced that the coach was to stop at the next view-point where a small roadside café supplied refreshments for sale. All the passengers had to be back in their seats at 11h00 sharp.

Jane sat up straight with a sigh of relief while Rick stretched his long legs as far as he was able to, and felt for his wallet in his back pocket.

This is quite an amazing country, Jane. It is so arid and yet beautiful. What do you think?

Jane wrinkled her nose and gave him one of her disdainful looks.

"I very much prefer the streets of London or Paris, thank you. All we’ve seen so far have been dusty plains and precious little of the flowers that everybody is raving about.

She scrambled over his outstretched legs, making sure that she put all her weight on one of his feet. She quickly pushed her way to the front of the aisle leaving him behind to rub his foot.

At the rear of the coach, one of the veiled women took out a cell phone and had a brief conversation in a foreign language, her guttural voice unnoticed by the other passengers. Then all three of the women moved to the exit. Nobody took any notice when a six-seater 4x4 vehicle that had been following at a discreet distance, pulled up behind the coach.

Most passengers, cameras at the ready, moved to the view-point twenty meters away at the edge of the slight incline. Below them the usually flower-covered plain stretched away as far as the eye could see. End of October was a a bit late for the wild flowers as their blooming time was just about over. Exclamations of delight brought everybody to the view-point to see what was happening. A small herd of fawn-colored antelope went bounding away in the distance, and this was what had caused the excitement. The veldt around them was covered in the brilliant orange and yellow colors of the Namaqualand daisies which were typical of the region. Apart from the daisies, the region was home to a huge variety of wild flowers which included flowering succulents that mostly grew close to the ground, but it was the daisies that made up the greater part of the spectacle. Back at the shop, Rick was waiting impatiently for Jane who had gone to the restrooms and didn’t notice the three veiled women hovering nearby.

Jane came out of the restrooms and immediately started being difficult. She wanted to get something cold to drink, and Rick wanted to go to the view-point.

Okay Jane, I’ll see you back at the coach.

After a brief hesitation, one of the veiled women followed Jane and the other two stepped behind Rick as he moved behind the bus to take the shortest route to join the other passengers. Rick gasped in surprise when a hard object was pushed in his ribs and a very unladylike voice hissed:

Quiet or I shoot!

He was made to turn around and then roughly pushed towards the black vehicle behind the coach, and only had time to react by trying to turn round – but by that time it was too late. The rear door of the vehicle opened and he was pushed inside, and before he could cry out, a hand was clamped over his mouth and he felt the prick of a needle in his upper arm. He was held fast by more than one pair of hands and was conscious of a strange metallic taste in his mouth before he slumped sideways, completely unconscious.

Meanwhile Jane was just about to enter the shop when the woman behind her touched her arm.

Help please, lady, help my friend!

Always one to rush to people in distress, Jane, without thinking, turned around and followed the veiled figure that was urgently pulling her by the hand behind the bus and towards the black car.

In here, the woman said.

Jane bent down to look inside and was violently pushed from behind, and landed across Rick who was slumped on the rear seat. A hand covered her mouth before she could furiously cry out. She, in turn, felt the prick of a needle before sinking into oblivion.

The whole event took less than two minutes before the car pulled out smoothly and unhurriedly from behind the coach, and continued in a northerly direction. It slowly picked up speed and was kilometers away by the time the rest of the passengers made their way back to the coach.

The driver of the coach didn’t notice anything wrong as he was busy changing the music tape in the sound system. A fruit vendor at her stall on the opposite side of the road did notice some scuffling, but just shook her head at the strange antics of all white people and especially foreigners.

After the half-hour stop, the passengers took their seats in the coach and after a brief inspection to see if everybody was aboard, the driver pulled off and the tour guide announced that the next stop would be at midday, at a garage and restaurant complex. None of the immediate neighbors of the MacKay couple or of the veiled ‘women’ noticed their absence because some people were still standing in the aisle busy storing their possessions in the overhead luggage space. It was only after about ten minutes that the alarm was raised, and the driver turned back with a curse to pick up the missing tourists – who, he thought, had most probably wandered off and missed the departure. He was annoyed because this would mean a delay. He was expected to keep to a strict timetable, as the next driver and guide would take over at the following big town to continue to the city of Johannesburg where the tour was to end.

CHAPTER 2

The black 4x4, driving fast but carefully in order not to attract the attention of any lurking traffic officials, had reached the small town of Steinkopf. It stopped at a garage next to the highway and filled up with petrol. One of the occupants got out to buy provisions at the shop. The three ‘women’ had removed their veils and black robes and thereby revealed themselves as the hardened criminals they were. The tinted windows of the vehicle made the occupants invisible to anyone who might have been passing close by.

The vehicle moved off again and turned into the narrow secondary road that led to the coastal village of Port Nolloth. The poor quality of the road made speeding impossible. The landscape was now almost completely barren, with very little vegetation apart from those strange succulents with their bare stems and the tuft of leaves at the top, called ‘halfmens’ or ‘half-men’ in English. Some-low growing shrubs or trees were sometimes to be seen. The region had suffered the worst drought in years; the last rain had fallen two years ago and that had been only a few showers towards the south. In some places the road was almost invisible beneath the sand that the ever-present West Coast wind had deposited on its surface. No animals moved in the fierce afternoon heat and even the hardy wild flowers were absent from this stretch of land.

The occupants of the car were comfortable enough in the air-conditioned interior and were chatting in Arabic whilst munching on sweets and drinking sodas. Rick and Jane were propped up against each other with their hands and feet tied with wire, just loose enough to keep the blood flowing, but already cruelly eating into their flesh. They had now been unconscious for a few hours and the drug was slowly wearing off.

Rick first became aware of Jane’s head on his shoulder, and then of a terribly dry mouth. He tried to move but then realized that he was tied up. He tried to speak but could only manage a croak. The man sitting in the front passenger seat heard him and turned around. He said in Arabic:

They are waking up.

Rick asked in a slurred voice; What is happening? Why are you doing this to us? The driver replied in heavily accented English,

You will know soon enough, English pig. Keep quiet or you will get the needle again.

Rick opened his mouth to ask more questions but the passenger turned around with a syringe in his hand, and Rick realized that talking was futile for the moment and sank back in his seat. Jane moved her head on his shoulder and groaned. She took a few more minutes to wake up and then sat up with a cry of pain.

Rick, where are we and why are we tied up?

I don’t know where we are, Jane. Please keep quiet. I think we have been kidnapped, most probably for ransom money or some other obscure reason. These people are dangerous so please do as they say.

Jane, ever ready to become upset about the smallest thing, now lost her fragile and already stressed composure completely and shouted: I refuse to keep quiet! Untie me this instant because my hands and feet are hurting. I am thirsty. I don’t want to be tied up like this. Do you hear me? Untie us immediately! Jane’s voice rose to a shrill scream. The man in front pointed his pistol at her.

Quiet, bitch!

Jane was about again to shout, but he swiftly turned the firearm around and with a well-executed movement, clipped her on the temple with the butt of the firearm before she could turn her head away. She slumped against Rick’s shoulder and he shouted:

Bastard, was that necessary?

The man’s arm was raised again and the gun aimed at Rick’s head. Rick swallowed his next words and instead decided to keep quiet, as observing his fellow passengers and the surrounding landscape would be much more advantageous. He now became aware of Jane’s blood wetting his shoulder from a cut on her temple. She would most probably be out cold for some time and he was at least thankful for that.

The road they were travelling on was almost deserted with only one or two cars passing in the opposite direction. A lone donkey cart was ambling along in the heat and the driver cursed when he had to hoot and swerve to avoid the contraption. A fist was raised in their wake to show displeasure at being disturbed in the sleepy afternoon amble of man and beast. The driver saw the gesture in the rear-view mirror and after a brief discussion with the man in front, he suddenly stopped, the tires screaming in protest, reversed, and when they came abreast of the donkey cart, the man in the front passenger-seat opened the window and calmly shot the donkey in the head. The abductors all laughed at the old man, who was kneeling next to his donkey whilst frantically trying to get it back on its feet.

Shocked, Rick could only close his eyes. Such senseless cruelty was beyond his understanding and he realized with a shiver that they were up against ruthless people who took a devilish pleasure in hurting and killing. He guessed that they were travelling in a westerly direction, most probably towards the coast. The bare brown and gravelly hills were giving way to sandy dunes with only very sparse vegetation to be seen. Thinking that it was useless to even try to figure out where they were heading, Rick now turned his attention to the occupants of the car.

Apart from the driver there were three other men. One of them was sitting next to Jane, and the other next to the driver. The one with the pistol was obviously the leader and most probably the only one capable of speaking a broken but understandable English. This man seemed to be the most dangerous and Rick decided to keep on the right side of him and try not to anger him. The third was sitting behind them in the back seat, noisily eating food from various paper packets and slurping cola from a can.

They were most probably members of a Middle Eastern terrorist group who had kidnapped them for the sole reason of getting money for their terrorist operations. Why this was being done in South Africa and not in the UK was a mystery. Feeling suddenly tired and sleepy, Rick closed his eyes and dozed off. After about an hour the car slowed down and turned off the tarmac onto a barely visible sand track. Rick woke up with the sudden swerve and rattling of loose stones under the wheels and tried to sit up to get more comfortable. He was not sure if they had turned to the left or right as the road that they were on was now invisible behind them. Rick was feeling totally disorientated and thirstier than ever and again tried to focus on their surroundings.

The powerful vehicle made short work of the bad surface of the track, and after a while they finally stopped under a rocky overhang with a few straggly thorn-trees growing right up against the rocks. In the fast failing light Rick could see another black vehicle and a tent cleverly hidden underneath the rock and trees. The whole camp was covered with camouflage material and loose branches. He realized that this was a well set up hideaway that would be very difficult to spot from the air. He hoped that by this time, a search would be underway for them.

The door opened and one of the men grabbed him by the arm and jerked him out. He fell face-down on the sand and had to spit some of it out of his already dry mouth. Jane was dealt with a little less severely and forced to lie down in the sand next to Rick. He rolled onto his back and managed to sit up.

The leader produced pliers to cut the wire from around their ankles and wrists. Thankfully Rick rubbed his sore wrists where the wire had been rubbing and chafing. He wondered why they were bound with wire instead of the more usual rope but realized that this had been done just to be cruel, in order to demonstrate their point of taking no nonsense from the captives. Rick stiffly got to his feet and helped Jane, who was coming around, to stand as well. He tried to rub some of the dried blood from her face but she pulled away with a cry of pain.

Can we please have some water? Rick asked. The leader took half a bottle of spring water from the car and tossed it to Rick, who was able to catch it before it spilled onto the sand. After both of them had drunk, Rick tried to wash the cut on Jane’s head but she turned her head away and started sobbing. Rick tossed the empty bottle on the sand and put his arm around her shoulders. Don’t cry. I’m sure they will let us go shortly; in the meantime just do as they say. Try to play along with everything as far as possible.

Shut up, Englishman. I give orders around here!

Can you at least tell us what is going on? I promise that once we know why we are here, we will keep quiet and co-operate fully.

"I’m Ahmed. We are fighting for our rights in the world. We fight for our leader that you people are keeping in jail. We are many agents and we plan a big operation like the air planes in New York. This will be much bigger. Many people will die. This will be a very big