Safely Secured
Monday
Aisha stood in the
centre of the room, watching as the masked men took the wrists of her friend
Ibtisam behind her back. They had come
into the room a scant ten minutes before, surprising both of them as they sat
drinking their coffee – dressed in dark jumpers and trousers, with stocking
masks pulled down over their heads, obscuring their faces.
Aisha was
wearing an olive coloured cowl necked dress, with a scallop style skirt that
came down to her knees at the front and back, and higher at the sides, a brown leather
belt with a tiger print on the front fastened round her waist. A lighter brown headscarf covered her head and
neck, meaning no skin save her face was visible, a black scarf over her hair under
that.
As was the
tradition in her home, she and Ibtisam were not wearing any shoes or boots, so
that she was standing in her hose covered legs. “What is it you want,” she asked as one of the
men started to bind her friend’s wrists together with thin cord behind her back
as she sat on the chair.
“Your
valuables,” the one who was pointing a gun at Aisha said quietly, “and you
cooperation.”
“That hurts,”
Ibtisam cried out as she looked over her shoulder at the masked man. The white band of rope was sitting over the cuffs
of the sleeves of her long orange top, a pair of black pants covering her legs
while her feet were in a pair of nylon socks.
Her own head was covered by a large floral print scarf, her eyes twinkling
behind her brown rimmed glasses.
“Be quiet or we
make sure you are quiet,” the man said as he tied the ropes off, and then
produced from somewhere a much linger length of rope, which he proceeded to use
to bind Ibtisam’s arms to her sides, forming two bands above and below her
chest.
“All right, I
will tell you where my valuables are,” Aisha said quietly as she watched her
friend being secured more and more tightly, “just don’t…”
“Good choice,”
the other man said as he put the gun down, and then walked behind Aisha,
pulling her arms behind her before she felt the rope rubbing on her own wrists. “We’re going to make her comfortable first,
and then you and I are going to take a little walk round.”
“Why are you
doing this,” Ibtisam moaned as the man tied the ropes behind her back, and then
walked round, kneeling in front of her as she watched him wind more rope around
her ankles and force them tightly together.
He passed the
rope round her legs in neat bands, and then separated the ends, taking them
between her ankles as she looked up and saw the first man binding Aisha’s arms to
her sides in the same way as hers. She
then grunted as the ropes tightened even more as he tied the ends off, then
repeated the process around her legs below her knees.
“You come with
me,” the first man said as he took Aisha by the arm and frog marched her out of
the room, while the man with Ibtisam stood up and walked behind her again. She twisted round, feeling the rope rub on
her legs and body – then stared at the knotted scarf he was now holding in
front of her face, as he said quietly “open wide.”
She was powerless
to stop him pulling the scarf between her teeth, forcing her tongue down as he
tied the band round her head, and then stripped the rings from her fingers
before he started to search the room…
It was an hour
later, the silk knot in her mouth heavy with the saliva it had soaked up, then
Ibtisam saw Aisha been walked back in, a rolled and knotted black scarf now
tied round her head with the knot in her mouth.
She was sat next to her friend and the masked man secured her ankles and
legs in the same way as her, taking the band of rope below her knees under the
skirt of Aisha’s dress but not lifting it up.
The two men
then looked at the captives, before they left them, Ibtisam looking at Aisha
and saying “chnnughtfhrrr?”
“Nhh –
nhtbhshlf,” she mumbled as she twisted round, and then they turned round, Aisha
looking over her shoulder as she started to try and unravel the knot holding
the rope round her friend’s wrists.
It seemed to
take an age before Ibtisam was able to shake her wrists free of the rope, and
gingerly move her arms round under the two bands before she started to untie
Aisha, thinking one thing as she did so.
She really
needed some water….
Tuesday
“Oh no – but
you are both all right Aunt Aisha?
“Very well then
– we will see you at the family meal at the weekend. Stay safe until then.”
“What’s
happened,” Maysara said as she looked at her flatmate walking back into the
room. Mahasin’s long blue top had a wing
tipped collar edged with gold, a widely spaced gold netting on each shoulder,
while her white pants covered her legs, only her bare feet exposed. A taupe coloured scarf covered her head and
neck, the edge of the blue scarf that covered her hair underneath.
The two thirty
year old women had shared a flat since their student days – Maysara was a
teacher, and had just returned from work.
Her long red skirt almost came to the floor, her black slippers just visible,
while her long sleeved black blouse was fastened to the collar. A long matching red scarf was wrapped round
her head and neck, a black one visible under that.
“My aunt was
robbed yesterday – she and a friend were left bound and gagged with scarves,”
Mahasin said as she sat down. “Much of
her jewellery was taken, but fortunately it was insured.”
“That’s
dreadful – is she all right?”
“A bit shaken
up, but yes,” Mahasin said as she put her arm round her friend’s shoulder, “but
that was…”
Her thoughts
were suddenly interrupted as the door was thrown open, and two men walked in,
one armed with a gun and the other carrying a bag. Both were dressed in black – and both had stocking
masks pulled down over their heads.
“Don’t move a
muscle unless we tell you to ladies,” the one with the gun said as he stood in
front of the two women, smiling as his partner went behind them. “Just do as we say, everybody will be fine.”
“But we have no
money or valuables,” Mahasin said quietly.
“Who said we
were here for your valuables,” the man said with a smile under the mask, as
Mahasin felt her arms been pulled behind her, and then the rub of rope on her
wrists as they were bound tightly together.
Maysara then had her own arms pulled behind her, as her wrists were also
tightly secured, the bands going round and between her wrists.
“If it is not
money you desire,” she said as the ropes were pulled tighter, “then what is
it?”
“Something I
very much doubt you know you have.”
“But what would
– do not do this,” she continued as she saw the rope going round her body, and
then pulled tight under her chest so that her arms were secured to her sides.
“If I was you,
my dear lady, I’d keep quiet,” the man behind her said, Mahasin watching as her
chest was framed by two bands of rope, above and below, while her arms were
forced into her body. He then moved over
to Maysara and did the same, Mahasin watching as her blue top was stretched
tightly over her chest by the tightening bands.
“Are you all
right,” Maysara said quietly as she looked at her old friend.
“I… I think so,
I am not user,” Mahasin said as she twisted round, the ends of her red
headscarf now trapped under the upper band of rope. It was a most unusual feeling – and was she wrong
to think it was not as unpleasant as it could have been?
“Ugghh.”
Her attention
was broken as she heard Maysara grunt, and saw the way she was bound, while the
man who had been behind them walked round and knelt down, four lengths of rope
in his hands. Looking up and smiling, he
doubled the first length over and wrapped it round her ankles, pulling them tightly
together as the armed man said “you good here?”
“Yeah – go find
what we came for.”
As he left the
room, Mahasin watched as he wound the rope around and between her ankles, locking
them together before he took a second length and passed it round her legs above
her knees. She saw the way her skirt was
gathered round her legs as he secured them, and gave thanks he had not done anything
else as he tied the rope off.
She turned and
said to Maysara “it’s all right, it won’t hurt” as her friend’s legs were
secured in the same way, the rope going round her legs below her knees before
he stood up and looked at them.
Eventually, the
other masked man returned, and said “got it – silence them.”
The two women
watched as he produced from his pocket two clothes, and then at his command
opened their mouths, too scared to argue as he pushed the clothes in behind
their teeth. Strips of black tape were
then pressed down over their lips, before the two men left the room.
“Hwddwhghtfhrrr,”
Maysara mumbled as she twisted round.
“Hchhntt –
chnnhrrphlslsmhshrrr.”
“Whhh,” Maysara
said as she looked at her flatmate, her eyes shining over the tape that covered
her mouth and jaw, and then shuffled over, understanding as she rested her head
on her friend’s chest, and felt the gentle pressure of her taped lips on her
head.
She had
wondered the same thing, but their situation, their captivity, had seemed to
liberate them to share how they felt…
Wednesday
“My sister was
robbed?”
“Indeed,” Huda
said as she sat with her younger daughter Hanan, “but she and Maysara are
unhurt. When they were eventually free,
they found the men had only taken a photo album from the house – some old
family shots, but that was all.”
Hanan nodded as
she sipped her tea. The young woman was
twenty, and was wearing a long sleeved shirt dress in light blue with white
leggings and slippers. As with all the
women in her family, her head was wrapped in a
large scarf to cover her hair and neck, this one with a crimson and blue
floral pattern on cream silk.
Her mother was
also wearing a large scarf tied over her head – in Huda’s case, a crimson and
brown one, to match her long crimson top.
She also wore dark trousers, although her feet were bare.
“It seems
strange to terrorise two women, just to get some photos,” Hanan said as she put
her glass cup down.
“Indeed – but
we live in a strange world,” Huda said as she stood up and collected the
cups. “You should return to your
studies.”
“Of course,
Mother,” Hanan said as she picked up the book by her side and started to read,
Huda smiling as she carried the dirty cups to the kitchen and placed them in
the dishwasher.
It was when she
turned that she gasped, as the man standing there said “not a word – put your
hands behind your back.” As Huda did so,
she heard a ripping sound, and then felt the adhesive on her wrists as they
were taped tightly together. Whoever was
doing this was strong, as she was soon unable to move them apart - and then she
saw the silver tape as it was pulled tight around her arms and upper body,
forcing them into her sides as tow bands were formed to frame her chest.
“Who are you,”
she whispered, not wanting to alert them to the fact she was not alone in the house.
“Not important
– open your mouth.”
“why
shoudehhhmmhhh,” Huda said, her voice cut off as half a yellow sponge was
pushed into her mouth, and then the tape wound tightly round her head, covering
her lips as the band was taken round her scarf.
She could tell they meant business now, as she wondered what their next
move was going to be.
Her worst fears
were realized, however, when the two men marched her into the front room, Hanan
screaming as she saw her tape bound and gagged mother between the two masked
men. She pushed herself back in the
chair, but when one of the men walked quickly over and put a gloved hand over
her mouth, she was surprised to feel him forcing a compressed sponge in behind
her teeth. She was unable to stop him
pushing it in, and then she heard the ripping sound and felt the pressure on
her cheeks as the silver tape was wrapped tightly round her head – grateful she
was wearing something over her hair.
“Get her
secured and then bring her up,” the second man said as he took Huda out of the
room, Hanan watching them walk up the staircase as the masked intruder took her
wrists behind her back, and began to tape them tightly together.
He then wrapped
the tape round her body, the silver contrasting with the pale blue, as her arms
were forced into her sides, the bands holding them firmly in place. She was struggling to keep herself calm, but
everything has happened so fast…
When she felt
him pat the tape down behind her, he looked at her and said “get up.” Hanan slowly managed to stand, before she was
forced to walk up the stairs, and into her parent’s bedroom. Her eyes opened wide as she saw Huda lying on
her side on the bed, bands of tape round her legs above and below her knees as
well as around her ankles, twisting round and trying to get free.
It was no
surprise to her that she was made to sit on the edge, and watch as the man
taped her ankles together, then her legs above and below her knees, before she
was pushed onto her side to face her mother.
They both
looked to the door as the two men left, and they lay still until they heard the
front door open and close – and then they started to struggle, the black scarf
under the main ones showing as they slipped down while they tried to call for
help…
Thursday
“I understand, Tuhran
that it was upsetting for both of them – but they are unharmed?
“And that was
all they took?
“How strange –
I will see you all this weekend, stay safe until then,” Tanweer said as she put
the telephone down. Three home invasions
in which people in her extended family had been left unable to call for help –
but fortunately, no more than that.
And what had
been taken? Some money, the photographs,
and a diary from her brother’s home.
What could it mean?
She stood up
and went to look out of the window of her office, which allowed a view of the
park outside. She was that rarity – a
successful businesswoman in her field, and she lived the lifestyle that
allowed.
She also
dressed as an important person – her floor length robe was made from a deep red
crimson cotton, the scarf of the same colour.
The black slippers over her dark hose covered feet were only just
visible under the hem of the robe.
She stood there
for a moment, trying to figure out why these things had happened, before there
was a knock on the door to her office.
She glanced at the wall clock, seeing the time as she said “come in, put
the coffee down on the desk.”
She heard the
door open and close, but then nothing until she slowly turned round – and saw
the two men in dark clothing standing there, wearing stocking masks over their
heads, one with a gun in his gloved hand and the other holding a gun.
“Ah – my
housekeeper?”
“Secured –
please, do as we say,” the man holding the gun said with a smile.
“And what is it
you want me to do?”
He smiled as he
indicated a picture of Istanbul on the wall.
“Open the safe, then give me exactly what I tell you to give me.”
“I do not have
a choice, do I,” Tanweer said quietly as she walked slowly over and pressed on
the edge of the frame, swinging the painting out and then punching a series of
numbers into the keypad on the metal door behind it. As she opened it, the armed man took a large
canvas bag from the holdall his partner was holding, and opened it out as he
said “all bank notes and jewellery inside – and one other thing.”
“And that thing
is?”
The masked man
smiled as he said “the brown envelope at the back.”
Tanweer looked
at him, and then sighed as she said “now I understand. I have your word nobody else will know?”
“You have my
word,” the man said as she placed several rolls of bank notes and some
jewellery cases inside, and then the brown envelope. “Thank you – now please, take a seat,” he
continued as he indicated the chair behind her desk, where the second man had brought
it into the centre of the room. As she
sat down, he knelt behind her and pulled her arms around the chair back,
Tanweer not showing anything as she felt the rope he was using to force her
wrists together.
As he further
secured them to the chair back, the first man put the gun down and collected
more lengths of rope from the bag, kneeling in front of the woman as he started
to bind her legs together above her knees, gathering the skirt of her robe
around them as he did so.
“Will you pass
on a message from me,” Tanweer said as she watched him tie the rope off, then
felt more rope as her back was pulled against the chair back and lashed into
place.
“You think I am
in a position to pass on a message?”
Tanweer looked
at him, and simply said “tell them I am sorry.”
The masked man
looked up, and nodded before he started to bind her ankles tightly together,
the rope going around and between her ankles as she realised she was not going
to get out of the chair.
She then saw
the red scarf in front of her, the large knot tied in the middle, and knew she
had to open her mouth. The knot slid in
between her teeth, the band pressing on her cheeks as it was tied round her
head, and the two men left.
Tanweer looked
at the open safe, conserving her energy, hoping that this would be an end to it
all….
Friday
“It has really
been a year?”
Qamar nodded as
she sat with her friend. The young women
were both wearing black scarves over their heads and round their necks, Rasima
in a long black top and pants, Qamar in a purple top with a tiered skirt and
black leggings. She had just come in,
and still had black sandals on her feet while Rasima was in her stocking
covered feet.
“A year since
those men captured us – do you remember, we were actually wearing these
outfits?”
“How could I
forget…?”
They had been at
home when the balaclava masked men stormed in, and took them captive. Both women were made to sit back to back on
the floor, and link their arms before each of them had their wrists tied together
in front of them. The men then made them
bend their legs before they bound their ankles and their legs below the knees
with thin white ropes, and then their wrists tied down to the rope round their
legs.
White tape was
pressed over their mouths, and then their upper bodies were secured together,
before they watched the men ransack the room, then heard them search the rest
of the house.
When their
husbands had returned, nothing had been taken – but they said a message had
been sent. A message that needed to be
answered - in time…
“Well, as they
say, the past is the past,” Rasima said as the door opened, and two men dressed
in black came in.
“Husband – we
were remembering last year,” Rasima said as one of them sat with her.
“Indeed – and
you remember we said a message had been sent?”
“About your
business?”
“Indeed - well,
this last week, we have returned the message.”
“You invoked
vendetta? But…”
“He died a
month ago – we spoke to the matriarch, and she has apologised. We are at peace now – and we have returned
the things taken to confuse them.”
“And the
deeds?”
Qamar’s husband
held up a manila envelope. “We have
them, so we can open again – all is well…”
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