Reema's Revenge

By PJ Lang

In late 2008 a dozen by-elections took place for the House of Commons. Traffic accidents, ill health and family matters caused the vacancies, so we were told.
The greatest loss of military life since the Falklands took place not in Basra, Kandahar or Helmand, but just outside Swindon. We were not informed of it.
Terrible things had happened to a family in Iraq.
Reema's family.
Reema took revenge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: PJ Lang
• Release date: Apr 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463666241

PJ Lang

PJ Lang was born in UK but spent his teenage years in Africa. He has lived, worked and consulted in six African countries, North and South America, the Middle East and seven European countries. Leaving school he worked as a Chemical Engineering Technician, Fireman, Paratrooper, and Ambulance Driver - Paramedic. He planned on being a Smokejumper, but decided to do something much more dangerous, he got married instead. Changed careers and worked in the development of early Operating Systems, Relational Database Development and Retail Automation. Founder of a Software Application Development company he sold up and moved on to Business Consulting and Project Management. His later working years were spent designing and implementing Inter-Bank and Inter-National systems for Financial Payments and Fund Transfers. Visiting the Neruda museum, ‘La Sebastiana’ in Valparaiso, he decided that Pablo Neruda had the right idea. ‘An endless view of the sea, where he could he could live and write in peace’, and so relocated to where the next piece of land beyond the ‘Beach’ is Antarctica. 2016

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Chapter 1

Apr 2006 : London

"... Special Air Service B Squadron Troop 7 was commanded by Captain Rowland and comprised of Rowland and 8 men. The team was supported by a platoon of American Marines who provided transport (3 x Stryker APCs) and perimeter defence.

The objective was to collect all documents and capture all persons on the premises and transport them to Mosul Police HQ for examination and interrogation."

Sir David Gromes, seated in his office in Vauxhall, had just been handed the report on the botched attempt to capture the family of the Five of Clubs, America’s hollywood speak for Colonel Ali Abid Al Tikriti.

Ali al Tikriti had been a special Presidential Adviser to Saddam Hussein for twelve years until 1993 when he returned to his unit and in 2002 had been promoted to Colonel in command of the Republican Guard for the defence of Baghdad Region.

"The unit arrived at house 37, Section 5, Risala, Fallujah at 19h15 12/12/2004. Captain Rowland led his men into the compound and entered the building, meeting no resistance. Four men were detailed to secure and search the ground floor, while Captain Rowland, and the other men led by Sergeant Sinclair, ascending to the first floor to secure any persons and documents present.

Entering the main room on the first floor, they found two women, one being Ali’s mother aged 64 sitting in a wheelchair with a rug or blanket over her legs, and the other being his sister (Salwa Abid Al Tikriti) aged 30. On the bed were Ali’s three children, Hassayn aged 9, Aiysha aged 5 and an infant aged about twelve months.

Sergeant Sinclair instructed them in Arabic to sit still and to show their hands. The elderly women fired an AK47 from under her blanket aiming at Sergeant Sinclair and the troopers, hitting Trooper Wynne in the legs, the troopers returned fire killing both women with head shots. As the firing commenced, the boy Hassayn lifted a Kel-Tec PF9 9mm semi-automatic pistol from under his body and fired one shot into the head of Sergeant Sinclair killing him immediately and another into the head of Trooper Stone.

Corporal Williams fired at the shooter, two rounds of 12 gauge fire using a Remington 1100 Tactical Shotgun hitting Hassayn and his two siblings, killing them all.

Captain Rowland ordered the evacuation of Troopers Stone and Wynne to the Combat Support Hospital at Fallujah. One of the Stryker APC vehicles was despatched with the wounded and the body of Sergeant Sinclair. (Trooper Stone was declared Dead on Arrival at the facility.)

Captain Rowland then completed the search, finding no documents he used explosives to remove a safe from the ground floor for transport to Mosul.

Captain Rowland ordered Sergeant Allen to place demolition charges in the house and demolished the house with the bodies of the family inside.

The team onboarded the Stryker vehicles, returned to Camp St Mere - Fallujah and further by helicopter to Camp Marez - Mosul.

The safe was opened, but found to not contain any documents relating to Ali Abid Al Tikriti or Operation Wettingen."

Sir David‘s deputy, MI6’s head of Intelligence for the Middle East, had added the comment No further action recommended at this time to the Military Memo.

An additional page was attached to the report, with a copy of the report from Iraq Special Police Service Mosul.

Reema Abid Al Tikriti

4 March 2006

Unit 17-SP-I-DF3

Camp Marez

Reema Abid Al Tikriti was arrested on 17 Oct 2004, being held and interrogated in connection to her knowledge of her husband’s involvement in Operation Wettingen. She has not provided any information which is relevant and denies all knowledge of his banking arrangements or past activities.

The prisoner Reema Abid Al Tikriti was transferred to the National hospital at Mosul under guard having been taken ill during the night (27/28 Feb 2006), the medical doctor (Maj. A S Fellowes RMC) declared her heart rate elevated at 180 bpm and temperature of 40.6 C.

She exited the hospital during the day of 28 Feb, and has not been seen since.

Dr Alisha al-Faisal, reported at 16:40 that her Abayah and shoes had been taken from the hospital change rooms. No report of Reema Abid Al Tikriti being seen leaving the hospital or of any further sightings have been received.

Per MI6 instructions, the reward of £5,000,000.00 for her live capture is in place and the notification has been distributed with her description to all American, NATO, Iraqi units and police personnel.

Sir David muttered Incompetent buffoons and closed the file, dropping it into the ‘out’ basket.

Chapter 2

5 June 2006 : Malundi

The Malundi Ambassador Extraordinaire to Europe, Middle East and Africa, Col Matthew Winston Walsingham-Altherstone-Featherston-Haugh was walking in a reverie, the track that led through the Miombo forest was open and park like. With no need for him to be alert, he had allowed his mind to drift. When the strident noise impinged on his thoughts, he knew that it was out of place, but could not at first identify what it was or where it came from. The General, ten paces ahead, stopped and turned to look at him. Matt realised that it was his pager call tone and then felt the vibration through his web belt. In Matt’s defence, it had been seven months since it had last gone off. Hashim at the bank was good at handling the trivia that made up 99% of the incoming communication in Matt’s world. Pulling the pager from his belt, he checked the message.

3-27, Matt was startled. He had carried a pager for 14 years, ever since he began spending more time out of his office in dealing with customers and branches, than behind his desk. To prioritise his responses, he had come up with a formula with his secretary. Code 1- was a caller wanted to speak with him when convenient. Code 2- was the caller needed to speak with him as soon as possible and Code 3- was a matter of life and death and the caller needed to speak with him right now!

In the 14 years of carrying the pager he had only had three calls ‘Code 3’.

With extended thumb and little finger, he motioned to the General, who was still watching him, that he needed to make a phone call. The General let out a whistle that could have been that of a local bird, had the birds been fitted with lungs the size of an Ostrich. The Rangers ahead and behind looked for the signal. Pointing left and right, palm down, the General waved the men into the shrubs and bushes. Two steps in and they squatted, all 14 of them disappearing.

Matt opened his backpack and extracted his BlackBerry Cell phone, switching it on he found no signal bars, so he rummaged in the side pocket for his Signal Booster and Garmin GPS. Assembling the ‘toast-rack’ uni-directional antenna, and connecting the wire, he looked for a high spot or tree to attach it. When the Garmin gave him a direction and distance to the village tower, he made the antenna fast to the branch of a tree, carefully checking the direction to his home signal. Matt pushed the grounding plate into the earth and connected the wires and battery. Then plugging his cell phone into the signal amplifier lead, he checked the signal, two bars, should be sufficient he thought and entered his speed dial 27.

27 was the dial code of Maha al Ravi. She had not been in contact since Matt and his partners had sold in 2005, the Kuwait Logistic and Distribution Company to a Qatari business group, for a quite obscene amount of money.

Maha was CEO of the Kuwait Oil Conglomerate. She was the daughter of a very senior Kuwait diplomat and had grown up in various major cities around the world. At 13 she had been enrolled in a Swiss International High School and had gone from there to Cambridge, studying organic chemistry, petrochemicals and in particular resins and epoxies. A year at Harvard to get her MBA and then back to Kuwait at the age of 23. She had worked in the country’s Petro-chemical Research company and became the lead on a research team after only two years. The projects that she led, came in ahead of time and below (the very generous) budgets. As a woman in an Arab society, she had several disadvantages but some advantages. The major disadvantage was that people did not take her seriously. They did not like the fact that she was somewhat pushy and used the ambitious American management style, in an Arab laid back environment where getting along was much more important than getting it done.

She was not included, for social and gender reasons, in the general chattiness of the organisation. This gave her more time for concentrating on work, and also less requirement for social interaction.

The al Ravi family was one of the leading Kuwait families with direct access to, and attention from, the Emir. They had several marriage connections and social interaction was high. This meant that when Maha gave an instruction, it was treated as a ‘Royal Command’. She and her sisters had always had servants and minions around, so they were used to arranging things and instructing people.

She easily fell into the leadership role and the workers around her, because of her training, her connections and her background, did not resent the fact that she gave the orders. Even so, they were irked at the additional effort required from them. She rose to MD of the research company and from that success she was transferred to planning and running the projects for the maintenance and expansion of the national pipelines. Next she was tasked with the expansion of the worldwide retail sales of Kuwait petroleum products. Shortly this was followed by managing the infrastructure upgrades and scheduled equipment replacement of the refineries.

In just 13 years she had experienced each of the major aspects of the Kuwait oil business. So when the country decided to create an over-riding organisation to ensure the profitable vertical integration of the industry, her multiple and varied successes made her best qualified to run it. For forms sake, and to free her so that she could actually spend time managing, a senior group of male Kuwaitis had titles and offices to allow them to be the face of the oil industry. Always checking back with Maha for what she wanted them to do.

Matt had collaborated with her when working on the supply and delivery of the Allied Forces invasion logistics. They had a high mutual respect for each other’s ability. Arab men are not comfortable when associating with women who are not their family, whether at work or socially. The genders are almost always separated. Arab women are equally uncomfortable in the presence of non-family men. But Maha from her upbringing and education was more western than Arab in this respect. Matt of course was comfortable in socialising with women no matter what their background. Naturally they found it easy to converse and work together, much easier for Maha than with her Kuwaiti countrymen. Matt and Maha had several social meetings over meals during the development, and formed a good business relationship.

M1 Abrams Tanks and military trucks use an inordinate amount of fuel. As part of the war supply chain, KLDC was tasked with delivering the fuel throughout the invasion theatre and that meant integrating the Kuwaiti fuel extraction, refining, storage and delivery systems, to the KLDC logistic and procurement systems in a smooth and effective application. The integration had called for design and development of the highest order. The fact that it was successful, brought credit to everyone involved, it was the application design genius of Matt, and project management of Maha plus a handful of others that made it successful.

Matt and a couple of his developers had then collaborated with Maha in creating a planning and control system for her so that she had better appreciation of the costs and outputs of her various refineries. They installed on-line metering of the storage tanks which solved a large number of her reporting problems. She had been extremely grateful and had expressed her admiration for their skills to Minster for the Interior, Sheik al Siali and to the KLDC.

From her position of power, she could call George Bush or Tony Blair and have them call her back within 15 minutes. Or she could have gone for the really important people such as Cheney or Mandelson and they would have called back in 30. The Fifth fleet or a SAS squadron would have been despatched had she requested it. You don’t mess around with the person in control of umpty billions of barrels of oil, so Matt wondered why on earth had she called him on a matter of life and death?

The phone rang twice and then he heard Maha’s voice.

Salaam Aleikum.

Wa Aleikum a’Salaam, Maha. Quaif halich?

Tamaam al hamdullilah. Is that you Matt?

Yes Maha, How is the family, I hope that all are well

Al Hamdullilah, and with you Matt

I am fine thanks, retirement suits me. The Arabic social niceties out of the way Matt could get to what was the purpose of the call

How can I help you Maha?

I have a situation Matt and you were the first person I thought of. In fact you are the only person I could think of that can help.

What is the problem?

It is not something that can be discussed at the Club house.

Matt had once looked out of Maha’s office window on a visit, and commented on the 40ft white golf ball’ 100 yards away, on the roof of the Telecom building. Kuwait’s contribution to the worldwide spying operation Echelon. Maha had remarked that all telephone calls and conversations collected by such ‘Golf balls’ worldwide, were sent to the 19th hole or the Club House". That being the building at GCHQ Cheltenham. Maha was always aware of the fact that her discussions, meetings and communications could be used to deprive Kuwait of millions, should the dealers and traders have inside knowledge of the decisions taken.

OK Maha, I will come through to you, I am at the Forest Reserve, but I will make a plan.

Thanks Matt, I have booked you on the 12:30 flight from Bujumali via Addis Ababa

I do not know if I can make the Capital by 12:30, I am out in the forest itself

I also reserved a place on the 15:20 via Nairobi and Abu Dhabi, and the 17:10 via Dubai. My driver will be waiting at the Airport.

Thanks Maha, I am not sure which flight I will make, but I am on my way

He will wait until you arrive, and Matt, thank you.

She disconnected and Matt switched off the call and spoke to the General, I need to be at the airport, 12:30

He made it by 12:45 and the Airport had kindly delayed the plane to allow him to board.

Rank hath its’ privileges.

Bing Bong - Ladies and gentlemen, we are now preparing to land at Kuwait International Airport. Please put your seats in the upright position and fasten your tray tables.

Chapter 3

June 2006 : Kuwait

Maha’s driver met Matt as he exited the diplomatic lane at passport control. The Lincoln Town car was parked in the Diplomatic Corps parking area. He wondered why it was that the airlines conspired to make him arrive at night wherever he was going, they must have know that he loved flying over the destination city with the lights welcoming him. Matt was, as always astounded by the lights and traffic of Kuwait at night. Onto highway 50 and straight into town. Turn onto the second ring road, turn right again into Damascus Street and again into Faiha Street. Then zig-zag on a couple of numbered streets and they arrived the gates to Maha’s home. Her home was built on four levels with a basement for storage and utilities, part of the storage in the basement was a garage housing five large cars. The ground floor was for the formal reception rooms and for feeding and entertaining guests, the second for family rooms and the top floor for servants and work rooms. As each floor was at least 25m x 25m or about 6200 sq ft, each storey was five times the size of an average English house or twice the size of the US average. In the Kuwait heat, gardens are difficult to maintain and the people spend most of their time inside. Hence the fact that the houses are large, beautifully decorated and wonderfully equipped. Having enormous wealth does not hurt either.

Matt entered, removed his shoes and Maha greeted him. Shaking his hand in the western manner and enquiring about the journey. Matt knew that the Arab customs were important to Maha regardless of how western she appeared, so he sat and had tea and a small pastry before either raised the reason that he had a flown six thousand kilometres at the drop of a hat.

Come Maha said as she rose.

I think that you should leave you cell phone here. Maha said. I don’t know if they can eavesdrop when it is not in use, but if you leave it here then there is no chance of us being overheard. Matt placed his phone on the table at the foot of the stairs.

Maha led Matt up the stairs, Matt was astonished, he had visited dozens of Kuwaitis in his time in the country, including many who were very good friends, but never set foot in the family rooms. She led him to her personal quarters, ‘a non-family male in her personal rooms’ absolutely unheard of, then through to her dressing room, the walls lined with mirrors, wardrobes and cupboards. There, under the window was a small divan. On the bed lay a woman.

This is my friend Reema said Maha. Matt stepped forward, Reema held out her hand and Matt shook it. Her fingers were like a bunch of dried twigs. Reema looked to be in the final stages of anorexia, her body under her full length caftan was painfully thin but that was not what caught the attention. Her face was shattered. It looked as though someone had smashed her face into a wall. Her forehead on the left side was deformed with the bone pushed back over her left eye. The left cheekbone had obviously been broken and healed or at least set with the depression causing her eye to extend over the bone. Her jaw was flattened on the left side and clearly she could not speak or eat in a normal manner. Her left hand showed two fingers that had been broken and had set without straightening so that they pointed backwards at angles to her other fingers. When she extended her right hand to shake hands with Matt, he could see that the Radius bone above her wrist had been broken and set without being lined up, a large bump looking like a second wrist bone eight cms above her above her wrist.

With great difficulty, Reema said, Ow oo oo do. Matt realised that this was How do you do.

I am fine thank you, it is a pleasure to meet a friend of Maha’s. there was no reasonable comment that Matt could make about her condition or her health, so he just stopped talking, not knowing what to say.

Reema did not release Matt’s hand although she did not hold it tightly. Matt looked into her eyes, to avoid the impression that he was staring at her disfigurements. Her eyes were dark, dark brown and appeared to fill his vision. Impossible to tell where the Iris ended and the Pupil began. Matt was intellectually aware that the pupils got larger with attraction and desire, but until he saw Reema’s eyes with what appeared to be huge pupils, he did not realise what an effect such a condition had on the person who was the object of the gaze.

It was as though he was the only person in the world who was important to Reema, as though her whole soul was laid bare in front of him. It was terribly disconcerting. Reema released his hand.

Maha said, "In my school, new younger girls shared a room with an older girl, a mentor, an older sister, to make the transition from home environment to a school environment easier. Reema was my ‘little sister’ for two years. She was my roommate and my best friend. I love her as a sister. She is family. She was arrested 18 months ago in Tikrit, her husband Ali died in the battle for Bagdad Airport and was the commander of the Bagdad defences. The British, MI5 or MI6 or someone from England, have been questioning her in Tikrit and Mosul. They used Syrians or Egyptians or people posing as Arabs to question her. They want to know about her husband’s activities before they were married. Reema does not know what he did or why, but they do not believe her. Now, even if they do believe her, they cannot allow her to go, to tell and show what has been done to her.

She escaped nearly three months ago and has walked 1,500 kilometers to get here. My army contacts have told me that the British government has put a bounty of £5m on her capture, alive preferably, but dead if necessary. No one here in Kuwait can treat her, it would not be fair to put such temptation in the way of nurses and servants. She has to be smuggled out of the country and all my contacts are military or government, they could not do it.

I can’t ask anyone in Kuwait and of course going back to Iraq is out of the question. To take her to England or the US would be putting her back into the hands of the coalition. I have to get her out of the country to somewhere safe.

That is why I thought of you. Perhaps she could be safe in Africa. I can think of no one else. I know that this is putting you at odds with the UK friends and government, but I cannot just abandon my sister. I do not know how or what, but you always come up with a plan, with a solution."

Reema just looked at Matt and Matt continued to look into those eyes.

"She has no papers? Matt asked.

No.

How did she cross the border into Kuwait?

I rawled oer erns. noh fat, too tin, noh eet. not ee.

It took a few seconds for Matt to realise that Reema had crawled over the 50ft sand Berms along the border. Being so thin, with no body fat, she gave off very little heat and that the infrared imaging did not pick her up, they did not see her.

oo days. oo huner meers

It took her two days to cover the two hundred metres.

Matt just looked at her, how the hell had she done it?

She needed his help to get out of the country.

Later, he wondered why it had never even occurred to him to say ‘No’.

The first things were papers. Kuwait airports, ports and marinas were extremely tightly controlled. Contract workers coming into Kuwait, had to have letters and contracts of employment. Even senior officials on business had to have an invitation from a Kuwaiti in writing. As the Kuwaiti was held responsible for the visitor or worker, they kept tight control on the activities and especially the coming and goings of non citizens. Anyone wishing to go home had to have exit stamps approved by the employers. No one without such an approval came in or out of Kuwait. Only diplomatic passports had any kind of preference.

I’ll take her as my wife. said Matt.

Reema reached for Matt’s hand ess, I take u as eye usbun, as eye usbun. Reema touched Matt’s hand to her forehead and lips. Maha and Matt could see the tension drain from Reema as her shoulders relaxed, even her features, painfully distorted as they were, seemed to drain the tightness from her battered face as her fear left her. She turned on her side, put her head on her pillow, curled into a foetal position and was instantly asleep.

Maha called, Reema, Reema but there was no response. Reema’s heavy breathing was slowing down and her whole body seemed to melt into the mattress. She lay like a leopard, totally without tension.

Maha turned to Matt, Probably the first time she has slept in 10 weeks, maybe the first time she has relaxed in at least 18 months.

Matt looked at Maha, Did I just get married?

Well officially you should have two witnesses, but The Prophet says that ‘The best wedding is that upon which the least trouble and expense is bestowed’, you could not bestow less expense or trouble than that. If you give her a gift, even a simple metal ring, then that would seal it, but there is no hurry, that can be deferred to a later stage. In combat or time of war, even the witnesses can be dispensed with. Don’t worry Matt, divorce is just as simple. Takes three months instead of three minutes, but Reema grows on you. She is a beautiful person.

What I meant was that I would have to take her out of Kuwait on my Diplomatic passport.

See Maha said, I knew you would come up with a plan. You always do. I have booked you into the Sheraton hotel as it is nearer, but I can call the Radisson if you prefer.

The Sheraton is fine.

Gupta will take you there and will wait for you. Wherever you need to go, Gupta and the car are available.

I will call him in the morning to fetch me, if I need him.

Don’t worry he will sleep in the car at the hotel entrance. The hotel allows the drivers to use shower and toilet facilities. There are a lot of people who don’t want to wait for their drivers. Kuwaitis are not famous for their patience you know. You have my mobile number, stay aware that there may be listeners.

They left the sleeping woman, Matt’s new wife, and returned to the reception rooms, Matt recovering his phone. I don’t know what I am going to do, Matt said, but I will call you.

Chapter 4

Next morning Matt awoke in the Amiri suite at the Sheraton. Exactly why he needed two reception rooms, a salon and a dining room in addition to two bedrooms and numerous,