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Mr. Manning's Consumation

By: A. Amalgam



Thamon almost choked on his tea when Mahmud Al-Sharani showed him the reason for the invitation to his home.

Looking through the camcorder's view screen he saw a bewildered looking American and when Mahmud pushed the start button the cleric watched as the American said "There is no God but Allah and Mohammad is his messenger." Mahmud then turned off the camera and looked his guest, waiting for his response. 

Thamon put his tea cup back on the saucer and tried to think of what to say. "You can't be serious" he said to his host.

"He said the words and that is all that is required" Mahmud retorted.

"But what was done to him to make him say the words? That is the question! There is no compulsion in the Faith and you know this!"

Mahmud waved his hand in front of Thamon's face as if he were somehow erasing the statement from the air. "Small details. What is important is that he'll make a fine husband for Laila and they must be married as soon as possible." 

"But Mahmud," the cleric pleaded. "You're a rich man with a thriving business, you can afford to keep seven children until Laila can have a proper suitor. What's the rush?"

"I rush because I was a rich man with a thriving business. Ever since the Americans came last year the economy has suffered along with my business. Do you know how much it costs to keep six daughters? Faruzah and I had to try seven times before we could have a son. Now that more money is going out than is coming in, I must take action or there will be nothing left for Tariq to inherit."

"If that is the case, there are plenty of young men who'd thank Allah every day for one of your daughters."

"But none of them have any prospects. If I give one of my daughters to any of them my wife would never forgive me. I'm using the internet to search for some suitable husbands in Turkey or Jordan for my other daughters, but this one is the best prospect for Laila. He's an American, all Americans are rich."

"But he's a foreigner!" 

"Laila knows English, she'll fit in wherever she goes." 

"You can't compel someone to marry, it's not natural!"

"Daughters get married off all the time and they learn to love their husbands. Why shouldn't that be true with this American? If you're worried about him abusing her I can tell you that will not happen. I have heard that American men let their women boss them around all the time."

"American men also drink, use drugs, and watch pornography. No, I'm sorry but I can't take part in this. Laila is a beautiful girl but it is better that she marry a beggar on the street of Baghdad than some ignorant, faithless westerner. While you may think that because he's said the words he's now a Muslim I say he is still ignorant and faithless. I'm sorry, but this is how it must be." 

Mahmud nodded, smiled, then motioned for Thaman to follow him as he got up. The cleric reluctantly followed him to the basement where his host had a large number of storage crates crammed into the room. As the cleric looked around he began to realize how desperate his friend had become. 

"Mahmud, what have you been up to?"

"Several people have come across abandoned items and have brought them to me to store for a fee, that's all."

"People? You mean that dog Aazim and that pack of thieves he leads!"

"Those are nothing but rumors. Nothing has been proven."

"Was he the one who took the American for you?"

Again, Mahmud waved his hand. "You need not concern yourself with such things."

Thaman groaned as Mahmud led him to one of the crates. As he opened it, the cleric's mouth dropped as he saw the contents. Inside were three AK-47's, a tea set engraved with intricate gold patterns, and a gold plated toilet seat that shimmered even in the dim lighting of the basement.

Thaman's mouth dropped slightly. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked softly. 

Mahmud nodded.

"Did it come from where I think it came from?"

"It's from his fourth palace to the east" Mahmud said softly as if he expected the police were listening. "I liberated it from some American soldiers who stole it from the palace. Do you like it?"

"Well, I. . . its all lovely."
"The rifles would be very handy in light of the rampant lawlessness the Americans have failed to stop." The cleric nodded in agreement.

"It's yours. All of it. Think of it as a gift for all the favors you've done and will continue to do for my family."

Thaman paused for a moment, looking at the toilet seat in all its shimmering glory. He wondered how many times Saddam had used it. All the crate's contents would make a good investment in these uncertain times. 

"Would eight o'clock work for you?" he asked. 

"I was thinking about a late afternoon service. I've heard of several evening ceremonies being raided by bandits. I want my family to be safe."

Thaman nodded. "Did you want it in your home?"

"Absolutely. It will be a modest ceremony so it won't need any elaborate planning."

"How soon do you want this?" 

"They day after tomorrow. Enough time for Aazim to make the American presentable and to bring him here."

"You're letting that thief into your house?"

"He and his men will only be dropping him off. Don't worry."

Thaman nodded again and followed Mahmud up the stairs. "I'm sorry, this is just so unusual" he told his host. "By the way, how has Laila taken the news?"

"Laila is a good girl. She knows her duty as a daughter and a sister. She understands."

Laila looked at her reflection in her mother's mirror, pondering on how this would be her last day as a virgin. She wondered if she would look or seem different afterwards. Naba said it hurt on her wedding night. Qaraah said her husband barely notices her unless he feels amorous. She looked down at the identity card of her future husband, Alec Manning, and wondered if American Muslims were different. Most of all, she wanted to know why she wasn't being allowed to even meet him. She tossed the card down on the dresser and shook her head. "I don't understand."

"What was that?" her mother asked as she laid out the wedding dress on the bed. The white taffeta rustled loudly as she laid it out. Studying it for a moment, Faruzah hoped it would fit Laila. Fatima's daughter was roughly the same size as her so she guessed it would be suitable. Every girl wanted the western style bridal gown and she wasn't going to let her daughter go without one even if she had to provide a hand-me-down from a friend.

"I was just wondering why father would not let me meet him first and would not say who brokered the arrangement."

"Why do you worry about such things girl? Don't you trust your father?"

"Of course. It's just that this is so sudden and strange. How does this American know me? What's he like?"

Her mother came over and patted her on the shoulder. Since she was old enough to speak she was always asking questions. It secretly pleased her mother, it annoyed her teachers, and intimidated the boys. "There, there. It's not your place to ask such things. You should be happy. Doesn't he look handsome?" 

She picked up the card again and studied his face. While he didn't have the dark hair or strong features of most of the men she'd seen, his sandy blond hair, brown eyes, and squared chin weren't unattractive. "Do you know anything about him?"

"No" her mother answered as she began sorting through her daughter's clothes for packing. "But I do know American men like small families, and you should be grateful for that. Do you know what having seven babies does to your back?"

"Yes mother, you've told me many times." 

"Good. So remember what I taught you about your duties as a wife." 

Laila cringed when her mother mentioned that task. The only thing more disturbing than the task itself is picturing her mother performing it on her father. "Are you sure all men enjoy that thing you told me about?"

"Yes, and you must appear as if you enjoy it too." 

"Why? He's not doing anything to me."

"Because that's just the way men are. Besides, only sinful women desire such pleasures. Why do you always have to ask so many questions? Now, do you want to keep from having too many babies or not?"

"I only want to have one or two" she responded quietly.

"Good, just remember it's better to be on your knees for five minutes than on your back for two."

"Mother, why did I have to know that about you and father?"

"Because these are the facts of life. Now let's see how this dress looks on you."

Alec sat in the dark blindfolded with his wrists tied wondering how he could have prevented this. He imagined CNN broadcasting some bad photo of him as they told his life story and described how he died. All the girls who had dumped him in college would weep in front of the camera while declaring what a beautiful person he was. When he had applied for Human Aid International as a relief worker the recruiters told him that most of the problems were in the cities and that only U.S. soldiers were being targeted. They had assured him that the Iraqi people would appreciate the work being done by the various aid workers and no harm would come to him. Now he wished he'd studied Arabic more before signing up. He could barely understand his captors or what they were planning for him. 

The first day they shoved a video camera in his face and made him recite a phrase in Arabic. Something about Allah and Mohammad that he barely remembered. The phrase was supposed to be significant but he wasn't sure why. 

After the incident with the camera they locked him in a basement and only came to feed him or take him to the toilet. Without a window or a watch he couldn't be sure how long they kept him there. It could have been a day or two but it felt like a week. 

Finally they came back to his cell. Before he was blindfolded again they gave him an unusually decent change of cloths and told him in broken English to change. He received a grey jacket, a plain white shirt, and grey dress pants. He thought for a moment they might be giving him a change of clothes so he wouldn't look like a hostage when they moved him but dismissed that idea because they'd probably move him in the same van they used to snatch him off the street. 

After putting on the blindfold and tying his wrists they guided him outside to the van. The kidnappers warned him to be careful as he stepped into the back of the van, then they shut the door and didn't speak to him again for the entire trip. When they stopped, one said "No move" and left him alone in the van.

As he waited in the dark he wondered why he was left there. Were they preparing the cell? Were they setting up equipment for him to make another statement? Or perhaps they were deciding which one would execute him? He tried to keep that last thought out of his head. 

Alec then heard a set of small feet approaching the van, circling around until stopping at the back door. A pair of hands then began banging at the door and he heard a small child's voice. Okay, he thought, I'm not going to be shot. They wouldn't do that in front of a kid. Or, maybe they're just making a pit stop to visit friends and family.

He heard one of the men walk to the van and say something to the child, who then ran away. The man then opened the door, stepped in, and removed Alec's blindfold. After letting his eyes adjust to the light he realized this man wasn't one of the kidnappers. He was middle aged, fat, with graying hair. He smiled at Alec 

and motioned for him to get out of the van. He then followed the man to the two-story concrete villa. Aside from the ornate blue designs decorating the front door the entire house was a drab tan color. 

Alec followed the man into what he assumed to be the living room which was expansive and decorated with rugs, massive flowering plants, and expensive looking furniture. As he looked around the man brushed off his jacket, untied his wrists, then pointed at him. "No scared" he said.

"Uh, is that an order or a question?" he answered. 

"No scared" the man repeated. 

"Well. . . uh, me scared, sorry."

"Yes scared?" the man asked.

"Yes" Alec answered.

"No" the man stated. "No scared."

Realizing the conversation could take all day Alec nodded and followed the man to a door on the far end of the living room. Before going in the man pointed at him again and said "Say, 'I acknowledge you belong to me' Then he flashed the pistol hidden under his jacket, presumably as a warning.

Alec didn't understand but he nodded anyway, hoping it would all become clear when he went inside.

It didn't. At the far end of the room was a cleric in his robes. To the left there was another older man, a younger man, and a small boy. An older woman wearing a nearly transparent veil stood to the right of the cleric along with six younger veiled women he assumed were the fat man's daughters. Now he was sure he wouldn't be shot, but that was no comfort to him.

The man behind him nudged him and pointed to the cleric. Manning walked to the front of the cleric and waited. It occurred to him that he whole setup looked a lot like some kind of wedding. 

The older man to Alec's left came forward and began some sort of speech in Arabic. He caught a few words like "Accept" and "Mohammad" but that was all. Then the man held out his hand and one of the young women stepped up and took her place beside Alec. Then Alec thought to himself 'Hey, this IS a goddamn wedding!'

For the rest of the ceremony as Thaman read four passages from the Qur'an, while both Alec and Laila stood silently waiting for the service to end. Alec stood in terror and bewilderment. Laila spoke so softly that when reciting her speech Thaman asked her to speak up. Alec had to be nudged by Mahmud to recite his speech.

A the stone-faced couple were escorted to the van the only people with any enthusiasm for the event was Mahmud, who now had one less daughter to support, and Laila's sisters who now had a little more living space. 

Mahmud stayed outside after everyone else went in to celebrate, watching as his nephew Aadil chauffeured the silent couple off to consummate their marriage. Thaman joined him as the van faded into nothing more than a wisp of dust in the distance.

"Do you think she'll be safe with the American?" he asked his host.

"Don't worry" Mahmud answered. 

"Where is your nephew taking them?"

"My brother has a piece of rental property and has agreed to let them stay there for a week to get to know each other." "What if he sees some American soldiers and calls for help? Your daughter and nephew could get into serious trouble."

"Like I said my friend, don't worry. They're going to a town with no American presence whatsoever."

"Really? Where is that?"
"Falluja."

Thamon paused for a moment realizing the risk his friend has taken with his daughter and new son. "Mahmud, you do know that a mob killed and hung some Americans there a few days ago, don't you?"

"I heard something about that, I don't know the details. Besides, the arrangements have already been made."

"But your daughter could be a widow by tomorrow!"

Mahmud tried to wave away the statement again. "It won't happen. Trust me. Aadil has been told to lock the burglar bars on the house's door so the American can't escape, and we'll let nature take its course. What kind of may can be alone with such a beautiful girl for a week and not give in to his nature?"

Thaman sighed and reminded himself to say an extra prayer for the couple. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

.They weren't the only ones watching the van. Aazim, Jasim, Baber, and Aarif watched the van as it passed them a few miles from Al-Shirani's home. Aazim waited a few minutes then started the old silver Toyota and followed the van. As he tried to concentrate on following the newlyweds Jasim continued to play with his Tokarev in the seat behind him, cocking and un-cocking the pistol. Aazim tried to ignore the racket Jasim was making and focused on the van in front of him. He also tried to ignore how insulted he felt when Al-Shirani told him of his plan to have Laila marry the American, and how he wanted Aazim and his men to perform the kidnapping. After all the work he and his men had done for the failing businessman, Mahmud chose to give his daughter to some westerner he happened to see in the marketplace one day instead of allowing him to propose to Laila. But, despite Al-Shirani's posturing and pretensions about his family's superiority, he would never expect what Aazim was planning. 

"Jasim will you stop that, it's dangerous" he said while glancing to him in the rearview mirror.

"Don't worry, the chamber is empty, you're in no danger."

"I don't care! That clicking noise is making me crazy, now stop!"

Aarif turned around and stared directly at Jasim. "Maybe I could just cut off his thumb. That would solve the problem" he said quietly.

Jasim looked into Aarif's cool, steady gaze and immediately un-cocked the pistol for the last time and stuck it inside his waistband. Aarif never let anything bother him. He was never bothered by the traffic jams, he was never bothered by the various shortages in the last ten years, and he was never bothered by the screams for mercy from his victims.

In the awkward silence, Baber decided to speak up. "Why pursue this woman Aazim?" There are plenty of women to be had, just tell them you're with the resistance and you could have any wife you want."

Aazim smirked, "I don't want a wife, I just want a few hours with this one." He remembered all the times Laila had looked at him disapprovingly as he and her father did business in the living room. She, along with the rest of Al-Shirani's family, believed he was beneath them, that they were doing him some sort of favor by even allowing him in their house. Soon, he though, she'd learn just what all her money and so-called privilege is really worth in the real world.

"Don't take too long, I want a turn after you" said Aarif.

"Don't worry" he answered. "We'll all have plenty of time.

"But what about our new duty in the militia" Baber asked. "We need to return to Baghdad and begin our duties against the Americans."

"We can do that after Fallujah."

"Fallujah!?" Baber exclaimed. "They're Sunni! What if they find out we're part of the Mahdi Army?" 

"Sadr has been making alliances with several other groups against the Americans. No one will attack us" Aazim groaned.

"Besides," Jasim added, "We can handle them if they try" and he patted his pistol. Aazim and Aarif wouldn't dignify his posturing with a response.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The newlyweds sat across from each other in the back of the van exchanging awkward glances when not looking to their shoes, wondering what to do next.

Laila looked at her groom quietly, wondering why he was sitting across from her and not beside her. Was he shy? Worse, was he like her uncle Ali that no one talks about? She couldn't decide which situation she dreaded most, having to submit to his desires or having no desire for her to submit to.

Alec tried to keep his eyes on his feet, hoping not to send the girl any signals and raise her expectations. He could barely comprehend what had just happened and he certainly couldn't contend with some girl's expectations. He wracked his brain trying to remember what he'd done in the last week that could have led to this. He'd never seen the girl before and had taken great pains to avoid any unnecessary contact with anyone. Yet here he was in a shotgun wedding.

He looked up to the front at the kid driving the van, wondering if he could take him. Even if the kid was armed, he could probably surprise him. But then he remembered that the girl could warn the driver, or they could have an accident in the middle of the desert and end up in a worse situation. Despite his desire to escape, he didn't want to risk getting the girl hurt in the process, or himself for that matter.


Mr. Manning's Consumation Ch. 02



Alec woke to the whistle of the tea kettle and music from the radio. He looked around, shut his eyes, and then opened them again. It hadn't been a dream. He noticed a tray laying next to him with a small bowl of yogurt, an orange, and a cup of tea on it. Breakfast was served.

He looked over at the girl, who was now brewing more tea. It was the first time he'd seen her, or any Arab woman for that matter, wearing anything other that the veil and baggy robes. But then again, those cloths were for guests while they could wear whatever they want in front of their family. 

"Thanks Honey, or wife, or whatever." He looked down at the tray with the plain white yogurt. I guess there's no fruit at the bottom or anything."

"Well, there's fruit on the side" Laila answered.

Alec took a moment, "Hey! You can talk! I mean you can speak English!"

"Yes, for some time now."

"Well why didn't you say anything last night?"

"It was late, I was tired, and you were too busy trying to spare the feelings of your innocent bride."

"Very funny! Seriously though. . . okay, wait a minute. What's your name?"

"Laila Al-Shirani. By the way, it is our custom that the wife keeps her family's name, but is it correct that in the West the wife takes the family name of her husband after they're married?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on! Don't even go there! Technically we shouldn't even be married!"

"Technically according to whom?" she asked.

"Well, the rest of the world! What do you think?
"Because, in the eyes of my family and friends, we are now married that is why."

"Yeah but I didn't know that! I was kidnapped, made to read something on camera and then carted off to some crazy ass shotgun wedding."

"I know you weren't willing, that was obvious on our drive here. But that's behind us now and we must make the best of this situation."

Alec stood for a second, stumped by Leila's acceptance of the situation. "Why do you want to be with a guy who doesn't love you?"

"You don't love me? But I gave you a humongous boner last night." 

Alec paused, realizing what he'd done and how it must have looked to her. "Yeah. Look, that was before. . . well I said that. . . "

"Before you knew I spoke English?" she smirked. Alec shrugged and took a sip of his tea.

"Why are you so afraid of marriage? Am I not pretty enough for you? Didn't your parents want you to marry? I know a lot of American couples don't like the ceremony even though many have children together."

"No, that's not it. Hell, my parents love marriage. They love it so much they've both done it twice. Dad's even demolishing his second marriage as we speak so he can do it all over again."

Laila nodded. "I see." She then took a spoon and fished out the teabag from her mug and threw it away.

Alec watched her, waiting for her to continue but she didn't say a word. She then came out of the kitchen and sat next to him. "Sorry we don't have any cream or sugar."

"No problem." He then took another sip of his tea. "What did you mean by 'I see'?" He tried not to stare at her again, which was difficult. She wasn't wearing anything particularly interesting, only jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals. But the way the cloths flattered her full breasts, hips, and legs, made him put his right hand back in his pocket yet again. 

Laila found a comfortable position and continued. "I mean that I understand why you fear marriage."

Alec paused for a moment trying to not get upset with her statement. "I didn't say I was afraid of marriage, I just resent being kidnapped and forced into one."

"I understand. I was obligated to obey my father and marry you so neither of us have had any choice."

"So why are we arguing? I mean, why are you so willing to go along with this?"

"Because you're my husband now, and we must make the best of it."

"Yeah, but don't you want to meet some nice Iraqi guy who loves you than be with some guy like me who doesn't?"

"But now I can't marry a nice Iraqi guy."

"Why the hell not? Don't you guys have divorces or annulments??"

"You can divorce me, yes."

"Great! What do we have to do? I mean, do we need a lawyer or something?"

"No. All you have to say is "I divorce you" three times."

"No paperwork? No alimony?"

"None of that. But if you divorce me, it's unlikely I'll be able to marry a nice Iraqi guy."

"Like I said, why the hell not?"

"Most men want to marry a virgin. I'll be a divorced woman."

"But we haven't done anything!"

"It doesn't matter what we've done during our time here, only what people think. In everyone's mind I am no longer pure and therefore unfit for marriage."

Alec shook his head. "Oh that's just great!"

"Why? You are free to divorce me as soon as we get out of here."

"Yeah, but—well, I don't want to screw you out of finding somebody either! That's completely unfair. Aren't there any ways to prove we didn't do it?"

Laila nodded. "But there is still. . . what is the word? A cloud? A sign?"

"A stigma?"

"Yes! Stigma. I'd be a virgin, but a divorced one."

"That's so stupid!"

"That's tradition." 

Alec leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what he should do next. Laila patted him on the shoulder. "I think I saw a bag with your old cloths in them. I'll wash them for you so you can change. Just relax, have your breakfast, and we will talk more later."

As she left the den he sat up and quickly wolfed down his yogurt. He'd been so absorbed by the events of the past two days that he'd forgotten how hungry he was. 

As he peeled the skin off his orange he began to think of a way out of this mess. He knew he absolutely couldn't touch that girl no matter what. Alec reasoned that if he didn't consummate then it never really happened no matter what she said. After all, he said to himself, I'm an intelligent person, not some stud horse they could pen up with a mare and expect nature to take its course. It was just a matter of mind over hormones. All he had to do is not think of how that t-shirt draped over her breasts, or how her jeans fit her perfectly round, firm---

"Oh shit" he said to himself. It was going to be a long damn week. 

For the rest of the morning and early afternoon he sat on the couch listening to the radio and drinking tea trying to figure a way out of his predicament. Laila continued the slow process of doing their laundry in the bathroom. After listening to a news report on militants getting into the country he got an idea and ran to Laila. 

"I figured out what we should do" he said.

Laila sat up and turned around from her work in the bathtub. "What idea?"

"I know how we can get out of this mess we're in!"

"This mess we're in?" Laila repeated quietly.

"Well, yeah. Here it is, when we get out of here I'll take home as my wife. Once you're in we can go our separate ways, nobody here has not know anything."

Laila looked at him emotionless. "So, you're plan is to have us lie to my family, take me to a foreign country and abandon me?"

"No! Well. . . not exactly. I mean . . . you make it sound worse than it is!"

"Alright" she muttered.

"Alright? So you think this is a good idea or are you just so pissed you don't know what else to say?"

Laila stared at him for a moment. "I am your wife. I'll do as you say."

"Hey, look! I'm---"

"I'm going to lay your cloths on the chairs in the living room. I'll also open the windows and door so they'll dry faster." 

"Look, I didn't mean to—"

"Please, I need to finish this."

Alec realized any apology would have to wait to make his case to her so he left her alone for the rest of the day. They kept to opposite ends of the house. Alec stayed in the kitchen listening to more music while Laila kept to the bedroom trying not to cry as she lay on the bed, wishing for the day to be over and cursing herself for believing his refusal the night before was anything other than a desire to abandon her.

She woke to the smell of food. The room was dark, only lit by the lamp on the night stand. Alec sat against the wall facing her, eating a plate of spaghetti and meat sauce from one of the military rations her father had stocked the pantry with for their honeymoon. She looked down at the floor and saw another plate of spaghetti waiting for her. 

"I don't know who stocked your cupboard but we got about two weeks worth of MRE's in there. I guess someone ripped off a truck of them."

"My father has a basement full of such things. I don't ask where he gets them. You should've awakened me, I could have fixed dinner."

"Well, I think I've put you through enough today. Besides, I'm a big boy I can heat up spaghetti all by myself."

She picked up the plate and sat up on the bed. As she began eating she noticed he was again trying to not stare at her body, yet his eyes kept darting from his food to her body every few seconds. 

"Can I ask you something?" she said quietly.

Alec shrugged. "Sure."

"I see the way you look at me, and you've been very considerate to me. I also understand that you fear marriage because of your family's situation. But why won't you even try? I'm educated. I wouldn't be a burden to you, and I wouldn't make any unreasonable demands like I've heard a lot of American women do to their husbands."

"Ever think maybe you should make a few unreasonable demands"

Laila paused for a moment while swallowing a mouthful of pasta. "Like what?"

"Like maybe your husband should have some decent job lined up for one."

"You already have a job with a foreign aid agency."

"Yeah, I do. But it doesn't pay squat. It's not what I went to college for."

"What was your degree?" she asked while scooping up some of the meat sauce and mixing it back in with the pasta.

"It was in computer programming."

She nodded. "That's good."

"Well, it was a good idea to get a degree in it back when I got into college and the dot com industry was going like crazy. I took that major because it was the degree to have if you wanted to make money. By the time I graduated the industry had tanked and I couldn't find a decent job. A friend I had from college who was always into charities hooked me up with this job. If I get out of this, the only thing I have to go home to is a ratty little apartment, a twelve year old Honda and a pile of rejection letters in my mail box. Do you want that? What do you expect from a husband?"

Laila put down her plate and thought for a moment. "I want a husband to not presume that because I'm his wife I have to clean up after him, feed him, and lay underneath him when he wants me to. I'd like him to consider my feelings and my thoughts, and perhaps even fix dinner occasionally."

"Yeah, I've heard that's hard to get in an Arab country. Women have to be everything and don't have any rights if her husband kicks the shit out of her. You guys have definitely got a raw deal."

"Oh, so America has no bad marriages or abusive husbands?"

Alec nodded. "Yeah, you got me there."

"There's more to the world than what you see and read on your news."

"I'm slowly figuring that out. You're done with that plate?" 

Laila looked down at her empty plate, then over at Alec's empty plate. She immediately got up to take them both but Alec resisted. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this" he said. 

"You've already done enough, let me."

Alec stood up and faced her. "Got an idea, I'll wash and you dry. How's that?"

She smiled and nodded.

As they cleaned the dishes they began talking about their respective college experiences, their favorite classes, and their favorite (and least favorite) teacher. The conversation went on for another hour while they listened to the radio. Laila would translate the lyrics to some of the songs Alec found interesting, and he educated her about the latest in American music and television. By the time she went to the bedroom and he took his place on the couch he felt more relaxed than he had in days. The idea of being with this girl wasn't as frightening as it was the night before. And that, ironically, kept him from sleeping again as his urge to join her was stronger than ever. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As he sat in the garage, listening to the militia commander's loud, rambling speech, Aazim wondered if Al-Shirani's daughter was really worth all this trouble. For the last day he had to keep Baber from panicking as the commander talked about the impending attack, he had to keep up the façade of an enthusiastic Sunni holy warrior, and he had to endure the stink of motor oil and gasoline that was seeping into his clothes. The only thing sustaining him was the memory of the last girl he took. She was ripe, trusting, and completely surprised when he made his advance. Best of all, she never told anyone. So, he reasoned, she enjoyed it. Even while sleeping between two stinking men he could remember how her weeping and pleading was almost as good as the act itself. 

The only thing that kept that victory from being even better was the ease of the girl's surrender. Laila Al-Shirani wouldn't be so easy, and that excited him. It would take more time, prolonging his pleasure and making the inevitable victory even sweeter. Even though he couldn't afford a wife the idea of being able to share such spoils with the men who followed him made Aazim feel richer than any government official. He shut his eyes and imagined how those fierce, defiant eyes that had looked at him with such disdain would eventually wilt under his will. 

He was jolted out of this pleasant dream when one of the militiamen touched his shoulder and motioned for him to follow. He went with the lieutenant to the small office where the commander had set up his maps and supplies.

"So, Sabir said you and your men are volunteers from Syria?"

"Yes" Aazim answered. 

"Good. It's nice to know our peoples are finally united in this worthy cause. For too long-"

"I'm sorry sir" Aazim interrupted, "Is there a particular mission for me and my men?"

"Oh yes! Forgive me. I've been so frustrated for the last year. I need you and your men to set up a post at this intersection." He pointed to a circled area on the map. "We believe the Americans will try to use their tanks to push into the center of the city and try to cut Falluja in half. Your team's job will be to use our RPG's to cripple their tanks and block their access."

"Understood, sir. I'll go wake my men. Do you have a copy of the map?

"Unfortunately no. But Ilam knows the way and will guide you to your position." The commander pointed behind Aazim, who turned to see a skinny boy no more than fourteen standing at the doorway. His overly-stern expression amused Aazim. He couldn't decide if the boy was trying to hide his fear or was so enthralled by the commander's speeches that he didn't fully understand what he would be facing.

Aazim turned to the commander and nodded. "He should do well."

"Excellent," said the commander. "You leave in half an hour. We already have a car ready with the supplies. You must be in position before daybreak."

"Absolutely. With God's help we'll teach the Americans the same lesson they failed to learn in Vietnam."

The commander beamed. "Yes! Praise be to God!"

Aarif sat in the corner of the garage, studying the various men in the makeshift base. He stood up when Aazim came to him from the office. "Is it time?" he asked.

Aazim nodded. "Wake Jasim, and Baber. You'll drive. We'll also be having company so keep your knife handy." Aarif nodded and smiled slightly at that news.



Mr. Manning's Consumation Ch. 03



Laila woke with the sunlight beaming through a crack in the blinds onto her face. She looked to the nightstand and saw the steaming cup of tea next to the bowl of yogurt. No one had done that for her since she was twelve when she was sick with the flu. She was embarrassed at how good it made her feel to have someone serve her for a change. Usually she was busy taking care of her two younger sisters and brother while her older sisters were busy looking after themselves. 

After finishing her breakfast she took the bowl into the kitchen where she found Alec tuning the radio. The sink was filled with water where he had cleaned his dishes yet again. She dropped her bowl into the soapy water and continued sipping her tea. 

Alec looked up, watching her watching him with an odd look on her face. Was she admiring him? For a few moments he stared back, trying to figure out why she looked so pleased, was the tea really that good?

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing." 

He shrugged and motioned to the sink. "Beat you to it again." 

"You don't have to keep doing that" she answered.

"I was up early and needed to do something." 

"Is there anything interesting on the radio?" 

"I almost had something. I've been tweaking the antennae to get better reception."

"Was it in English?" 

"Yeah, it was a news program. They said something about a town with a bunch of rebels in it was about to get smacked big time."

"Really? Where?"

"I think they said Fallujah or something like that. I'm still trying to get the signal back. 

Laila's eyes widened and she felt slightly nauseous. "What?!"

"I said I'm still trying to get the signal back. These concrete walls aren't helping at all."

"No! I mean. . . what. . . where did they say the Army was attacking??"

"Fallujah I think. Why? You got relatives there?"

Laila shook her head. "No, we're in Fallujah."

Alec's eyes widened and he felt the bottom of his stomach drop. "What?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Baber didn't know why he had to sit in between Aazim and Jasim. He could have driven better than Aarif and he told Aazim as much but he wouldn't listen. Baber worried that if there was any trouble he'd be the last one out of the car but every time he expressed his concerns Aazim told him not to worry. All he could do was sit and listen to the boy question Aarif. The boy clearly mistook Aarif's cold-blooded demeanor for courage and wanted to emulate him. 

"My brother said he's already killed an American soldier in Baghdad last summer. He sneaked up on him in a crowd and shot him in the back of the head."

Aarif nodded. "Your brother is a very brave man Ilam." 

"Yes, but he died in the fall when the Americans raided a neighborhood where he and other fighters were hiding. I plan to use one of the RPG's in the trunk to bring down an American helicopter or destroy a tank."

"Very commendable, you have the makings of a great patriot" Aazim responded.

"Yes, very much so" Aarif added. "But do you know what the real measure of a fighter is?"

"What" Ilam asked.

"It is to kill a soldier face to face while looking into his eyes."

"You have done this?" the boy asked reverently.

Aarif nodded. "I've done this several times. The first one was a little difficult but it got much easier the more I did it."

"What kind of gun did you use?"

Aarif shook his head. "I used a knife. It's quiet, and if done correctly the victim cannot even resist."

"But how could the victim not resist?"

Aarif stooped the care at the intersection and put it in park. The boy watched as Aarif pulled his picket knife out and unfolded its smooth three inch blade. "You see Ilam, the knife can be hidden far easier than a gun so even the cautious man wouldn't see it, especially in a crowd." 

Ilam nodded and listened, transfixed on Aarif's instruction. 

"Can you tell him all this later?" Baber interrupted.

Aarif turned around to Baber, "This will only take a second more."

In one single, fluid motion Aarif sliced the boy's right jugular splashing blood into the backseat squarely on Baber who hit his head on the car's roof as he leapt out of his seat in shock. As the boy grasped his throat, Aarif stopped the car and Aazim jumped and quickly opened the front passenger's side, yanking Ilam out before he bled all over the passenger's seat. 

Ilam tried to cover his wound and stand up. But the blood gushed through his fingers and within seconds he was too weak to stand, then too weak to move, then too weak to even breathe.

Aazim examined the front seat. While there was a small amount of blood it could easily be explained, considering the number of explosions and shootouts there have been in the last six months. He turned to the backseat where Baber was attempting to maintain his composure. 

"So, do you still want to sit up front?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you sure you don't have a hair pin or some kind of wire?" Alec asked as he reached for the padlock. 

"Do you know how to pick the lock?" she asked while searching the kitchen.

"Well . . . not exactly. But we've got to try something."

"During the invasion everyone was advised to stay in their homes" Laila said.

"Yeah but I'd like an escape route just in case."

She ran to the bedroom and brought back a wire hanger. "Will this work?"

Alec uncoiled the hanger and tried making an improvised lock pick, only to find the wire was too thick to hit into the slot. 

"Aw fuck! This can't be happening! Goddamn military's been taking it up the ass for eight months an now they decide to do some damage?!"

"Watch your language. This is no time to panic" Laila said quietly.

"Oh! I think this is the perfect time for fucking swearing!! I mean, really! Can you think of a better time??"

"When American tanks start firing on the house, then you can swear" she countered as she put the tea pot on the burner. He walked to the kitchen as she fixed herself another cup of tea, astonished at her composure. "How the hell can you stay so calm?" I mean how . . . how can you deal with this?"

"Because I figure your soldiers probably won't even hit us." 

"Yeah, maybe you're right. But what if they do?"

"They probably won't." 

"How do you know? Have you ever been through a situation where chaos and destruction could come crashing down around you at any minute?"

Laila thought back to her childhood during the war with Iran and how a stray missile crashed near their home and blew out the windows. Then she remembered during the first war with America and how one of their cruise missiles flew over their family's car when they were driving to a bunker for safety. "One moment, I have to think about that."

Alec thought for a moment and realized how ignorant he sounded. "Sorry. That was a dumb thing to say." 

"It's alright. You weren't thinking."

"How do you—did you—live with it?"

"After thinking about it for a long time I suppose I realized it was the not knowing that frightened me. Once I had accepted that I couldn't know, I could have faith in my ability to survive whatever happened." 

Alec thought about what she said for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense I guess."

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes I do thanks." Then, without thinking, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

For a moment he just stared at her, realizing what he'd done. She'd just got out of bed, yet she was more attractive now than two nights ago in her wedding gown. Her black hair fell randomly around her face and shoulders, contrasting with her white nightgown which draped around her breasts. The more he looked at her in silence, the more his entire body screamed to take her right there in the kitchen, consequences be damned. 

Instead he stuck his hands in his pockets again. "God, I must really reek, is it okay if I wash up?"

Laila's smile faded slightly, and she turned to the stove. "Yes, of course. The shower doesn't work though.

"Yeah, I figured that. I'll just use the bucket under the sink."

She nodded. "There is a pot in the cub bard; I'll heat some water for you."

"Thanks" he answered. "Wait a minute, why don't you go first? I can help you out---I mean with carrying water, not with the bathing or anything. I don't think they allow that."

"Actually, there's a custom where the husband washes the bride's feet before bringing her into his home, but I understand what you're saying."

"Okay, great."

Laila took out the bucket, filled it halfway with cold water while Alec took the largest pot, filled it full of water and began heating it on the stove. Both of them leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the water to heat. Alec tried to stare at the pot because every time he looked at her his eyes inevitably went to her cleavage which embarrassed him.

Laila on the other hand, wasn't embarrassed at all, and began making subtle overtures for his attention. While waiting for the water to boil she stood close enough so their arms were barely touching. Then, as he poured the hot water into the bucket she would put her hand on his shoulder and urge him to be careful. Finally, after he took the water to the bathroom, she looked him in the eyes, smiled, and thanked him. She never broke eye contact with him until she shut the door and he never turned away from her until she shut it.

For a few moments he turned back to the kitchen, then back to the bathroom door. He was sure he could hear her gown drop to the floor and then he heard her dip the sponge into the water and squeeze the excess back into the bucket. All the while visualizing how the warm water glistened on her smooth, olive skin.

"Laila?" he said.

She answered through the door "Yes?"

Alec paused for a moment. He wanted to invite himself in, wash her back then wash her front, and any crack or crevice she desired. As he stood there fighting this urge one second turned into three, then it turned into ten.

"Alec, did you want something?"

"Uhhh . . . did you want some more tea?" He couldn't believe he said that.

"I've had two cups already. I'm fine."

"Oh yeah! Right! Uh, never mind." He then retreated to the kitchen, kicking himself all the way.

"That was real smooth sport" he whispered to himself. "What are you going to do next? Offer to hold her books on the way home?" He tried to rationalize his feelings. He was under stress, she was the only woman he's been near in ten months, and he hadn't jerked off in a week. "I just need to focus and quit thinking about this girl. I don't need my life to get more complicated by accepting this bullshit situation." Then he remembered his situation and realized it couldn't get any more complicated.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Commander Hiwali looked down at Ilam's body and the large brown pool of dried blood he lay in. His lieutenant watched him, waiting for his next order. Originally Hiwali and four other fighters were going to help the other four men assigned to the ambush point. Now it seemed those plans would have to be changed.

"Sir?" the lieutenant said quietly. "What are your orders?"

"He insisted on helping, did you know that? He said if I didn't take him he'd find another group that would."

"He was very headstrong" the lieutenant answered.

"I figured if he joined with us I could at least keep him out of harm's way. I thought as a guide he would. . ." His voice faded off as he clinched his teeth.

The other two militiamen got out of the car and joined them, unsure what to do to help the commander deal with his nephew's death.

Hiwali looked up at one of the men and cleared his throat. "Abu, you said you found those men on the east edge of the town?"

Abu nodded. "They said they were looking for us but got lost."

"Perhaps they were," Hiwali muttered. "Maybe the Americans sent them here to spy on us. Out at the edge of town would be a good place to direct air strikes on our positions, especially if they had access to our defense plans."

An old woman opened the window of her second story apartment and looked down at the group of men below her. "You, down there! I saw the whole thing!"

Abu looked up at the woman covering herself with a white hijab. "What?"

"They parked their car below my window and woke me. When I got up to yell at them they were throwing that poor boy's body out."

"When did it happen? Did you see where they were going?" Hiwali asked.

"It happened thirty, maybe forty minutes ago. They turned the car around and headed east." 

"God bless you!" Hiwali answered.

The woman leaned out further and looked at the boy. "Bring the boy inside; we'll keep him covered until you can send someone for him!"

"We will. Thank you again!" Hiwali then turned to the fourth militiaman. "Sumir, take Ilam inside, cover him, and wait for someone to retrieve him. I'll make a call to headquarters."

"Yes sir" he answered.

The lieutenant spoke up, "Sir, they could be anywhere. Shouldn't we prepare for the Americans?"

Hiwali shook his head. "No, they're not. There are just a few ways out of town to the east. I know which ones are barricaded so the only safe way for them is near the street where Abu found them. If we're lucky, we might be able to catch these spies before they reach their masters."

"What about the Army? What if they invade while we're looking for these murderers?" Sumir added.

"Hiwali shrugged, "We'll have to fight the Americans eventually. Whether we fight them this morning or tonight, it makes no difference to me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alec quietly paced back and forth in the kitchen wondering what possessed him to make such a fool of himself. It was bad enough two nights ago when she was reluctant. Now that she actually liked him and was giving him these "Come hither" looks the tension was almost more than he could stand.

"Come on, hold it together" he said to himself. "You're more than just hormones. All you have to do is hold out for a few more days when we get the hell out of here and then we can get a damn annulment. She's hot, but she's not worth it."

He tried repeating that to himself over and over again until the voices outside broke his concentration. He went to the front door and looked through the peephole. Four men were coming up to the door from the street, and two were carrying AK-47's. He recognized three of them as the ones who kidnapped him. 

The pudgy, shy one hanging back on the left was the one he had most contact with when he was in his cell. Then there was the skinny young one to the right who had the look and swagger of a complete poser. The two older men leading this group were the biggest concern, not just because they were the ones carrying the AK's. 

The one to the left had a big smile on his face as he approached. Judging by his well-groomed hair and mustache he considered himself a charmer. The gaunt, taller one next to him with the strong, purposeful stride and expressionless eyes obviously didn't care what anyone thought of him. During his time as their prisoner, he never saw the creepy one. 

As Alec watched the charmer come to the door and motioned for his scary friend to sling his rifle, which he did reluctantly. The charmer then put on his best smile and knocked on the door. 

"American?!" he called out. 

Alec thought for a moment. He knew these guys were hired by Laila's family to grab him. Yet if the family had come to get them out of Fallujah, why not just send the same kid that brought them? 

The charmer knocked again, "American?"

Alec realized that if he opened that door, he'd probably get shot. If he didn't answer them they'd shoot the lock off, break in, and he'd still get shot. The more he thought about his prospects, the more his heart raced. Think dammit! What the fuck can you do? Think! As he peeked through the peephole again he saw the charmer motioning to the pudgy boy to the front and pointing to the lock. Whatever was going to happen would happen in the next minute.



Mr. Manning's Consumation Ch. 04



"Baber don't be a baby, just do what he asked" Jasim groaned.

"No! He might miss! Besides, we need to escape!" Baber complained.

Aazim shook his head. "He won't miss, just hold it by the chain away from the door so the bullet doesn't ricochet off the wall." 

Aarif rolled his eyes. "Both of you be quiet. I can shoot the lock off without anyone's help. Everyone just stand back." 

Aarif then positioned himself along the side of the burglar bars, carefully placing the barrel of the rifle downward and away fro any hard surface where the bullet could get deflected. He then lined the front sight on the lock, concentrating on a shot that would blow the lock off with one bullet.

As his eyes focused on the lock, he saw the door swing open. He tried to turn around but was stunned by a hard jolt to his temple. The next second Aarif was looking up at the sky. 

The other three had stood back to avoid any ricochets so they weren't close enough to stop the American. Even if they were close enough they were too surprised to do anything other than stare in disbelief.

Aarif sat up, rubbing the left side of his head, which was numb and throbbing. He looked around for his rifle so he could make the American pay, and he couldn't find it. He looked at the ground, then at his friends who were still dumbfounded by what just happened. 

"What happened? Where's my gun?" he mumbled.

Jasim, silent, pointed towards the door. 

Baber, who had kept back before the American snatched the rifle, took a few more steps back as he saw the shame and rage contort Aarif's face. Someone was going to pay and pay dearly. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alec listened to the exchange outside while pressed against the wall next to the door. The voices grew louder and louder as the argument accelerated. All the while he clutched the rifle he snatched from the thug outside.

"Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!!" he said to himself.

"Alec?!" Laila called out to him from the bathroom, "What's going on?!"

"Just stay inside and get on the floor! We got a situa-"his voice was downed out by a volley of bullets tearing through the door into the living room's concrete wall. He shut his eyes and covered himself with the rifle as he felt splinters land on his arms, hair and neck.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Outside, Aarif pulled back the bolt and checked the chamber for jams; the magazine was empty.

Aazim reached out for his gun, but Aarif wouldn't return it. He then tried ordering Aarif, "Give me back my gun!"

"Get me more ammunition!" he snapped back. "I need more bullets! Where are they!?"

"Don't you talk to me like that!" Aazim responded. 

"I'll talk to you the way you deserve! Now give me another fucking magazine!"

"They're in the trunk. Get them yourself!" 

"Why didn't you bring an extra clip?!" 

"How was I supposed to know you'd let the American steal your gun?" Aazim fired back.

"How was I supposed to know he'd do this?! When you grabbed him off the street he came quietly enough! Why didn't you know he'd do something like this?! This was your clever plan! Why didn't you plan for this?!" 

"Shut up! I'm not the one who let that weakling make a fool of me! And don't you dare tell me what I should and shouldn't know!!"

"Please friends!" Baber pleaded. "We should move away from the door, he might shoot at us!" 

"Please Baber!" Aarif sneered. "He's an aid worker! He probably doesn't know one end of the gun from the oth—"

Aarif suddenly jerked forward as a five-round volley of bullets ripped through the door and hit him twice The first round went through his left shoulder, exiting his upper chest in a red spray that caught Baber and Aazim in the face. The second round hit him squarely in the back.

Aazim swore and ducked down. Baber squealed and ran away. Jasim, however, sprang into action. In his mind he always pictured how he would react. A team of heavily armed American commandos would be facing him. They would raise their rifles but he'd be too fast for them. In one quick, fluid motion, he'd draw his pistol from his waistband, cock the hammer, aim and fire. Instead, he grabbed his pistol, cocked the hammer, fired, and drew the gun from his waistband. He collapsed next to Aarif's body stunned by the burning pain in his thigh. Aazim crawled to Aarif's motionless body and looked over the body at Jasim who was clutching his leg and screaming himself hoarse. 

"What happened!!?" he yelled to Jasim.

Jasim paused for a moment, "The bastard got me!"

Aazim looked around frantically. "Where's Baber?"

Jasim looked behind to the street, "He was right behind me a second ago."

Aazim swore then ran back to the car, unlocked the trunk and grabbed three ammo magazines and loaded one into one of the assault rifles. He then ran back to the house to settle the score with the American.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alec looked through the peep hole to see the result of his attack. Two of the men were down, tow ran away. He ran back to the bathroom thinking he heard Laila call him. 

As he called out he realized he could barely hear his own voice. "Oh shit that was loud!" he said to himself.

Opening the bathroom door he saw her crouching in the bathtub with her bath robe rapped around her. "Laila are you alright?" he repeated.

"Of course I'm alright!" she shouted. "Didn't you hear me screaming? What's the matter with you?"

"What?!" 

She then rolled her eyes and groaned. "Allah!" 

She then reached out and began searching his clothing. "You are not hurt?"

"Great! And don't worry, I'm not hurt either."

She stared at him for a moment trying to keep her patience. "I'm relieved."

"You said you're relieved, right?"

"Yes!" she shouted.

"Good! I went deaf there for a second after shooting this thing!"

Laila looked behind him and motioned for him to follow her to the bedroom.

"No, no, no. I need to stay up front and watch the door. Lock yourself in the bathroom."

"Who were those men? Militia? Bandits?"

"Will you just go back in and lock the fucking door!?" he snapped back. Laila jerked back slightly, then complied.

Alec ran back to the door and looked through the peephole again, just in time to see the charmer running up to the door with another AK-47 and an infuriated look on his face. But seeing the charmer return wasn't nearly as scary as the three men jumping out of the green Peugeot, running up behind him up the walkway. "Oh shit," he thought. "He's brought reinforcements."

He crouched against the wall next to the door, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable. "Okay, okay" he whispered. "Keep it together. Please God let there be enough ammo in this thing." 

Alec then stood up and looked through the peephole again, watching as the three men behind the charmer began yelling. The charmer spun around, saw who they were, and raised his rifle up to his shoulder. Alec then ducked down and away from the door just as volley of bullets began riddling the door and the outside wall. For a few seconds he heard yelling and a steady stream of gunfire, but he couldn't tell from who, then there was silence. He looked through the peephole once more to see the charmer and the creepy one lying on the ground, their chests drenched in fresh blood. The poser was also still, but his body wasn't riddled with bullets.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hiwali looked down at the three men with a small measure of satisfaction. The one called Aazim had paid for his crime, but who had shot the other two. He looked up and noticed the door and noticed the damage to the door along with the locked burglar gate. While there was clear evidence they'd shot into the door, from the splintering and the two dead men someone inside had shot outward. 

The Lieutenant walked up next to Hiwali and kicked Aazim's corpse. "Should we go now sir?"

Hiwali pointed to the door, "What do you make of this?"

"Sir?"

"Someone shot two of these men through that door, but the door is locked from the outside. What were these dogs after?"

"Certainly no one would lock fighters in a house would they?"

Hiwali motioned for his men to move to the left side of the door as he walked up and knocked. "Hello? Whoever is in there we're here to help." 

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Inside, Alec watched as the men came up to the door and their leader began knocking. "Oh fuck," he whispered.

Tired of waiting, Laila peeked from behind the corner to see the results of the gunfight. "Who's knocking" she whispered.

Alec rushed over and pointed towards the bedroom. "Get back there and lock the door" he whispered.

"What's going on?"

"Militia guys just shot up the last of those other guys and now they're trying to get in" he said, trying to keep his voice low.

Laila grabbed his shoulder as he turned to face the new threat. She heard the man knock again, calling inside and offering help. "Give me the rifle" she said.

"What?"

"Now! Before they suspect something."

"What the hell are you doing?"

The commander knocked for the third time and Laila answered in Arabic while pulling the gun away from him. "Go! It's your turn to hide in the bathroom."

Aleck looked at her fro a moment, not sure what to do.

"Trust me" she pleaded. Alec quietly went to the bathroom while Laila took the rifle and went to the door, preparing herself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hiwali could sense something was wrong and motioned for his men to ready themselves. Then he heard a woman's voice from inside. "Please! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

Everyone lowered their weapons as the door opened. Hiwali was startled to see a young woman come to the door trying to cover her hair while holding an AK-47. "Are they gone?" she asked.

"What happened here?" he responded.

"It was terrible!" the girl exclaimed, trying to hold back her sobbing. "Two Americans took me two days ago while I was walking home! They brought me here and used me as payment for four criminals!"

"What!?" 

"Four men they hired as spies said they'd work for the Americans if they provided them with a . . . a. . . . virgin!" 

The lieutenant clenched his teeth in anger. "God! They'll stoop to anything!"

"What did the Americans look like?"

"One was short, old, and very fat. The other was taller, looked very strong, hand brown hair and sunglasses. Oh yes! He also had a short beard!"

The lieutenant looked at the gun she was clutching. "How did you get the gun?"

"A few minutes ago they came to collect me. The Americans left me locked in this house while they went back to Baghdad. Well, I suppose that's were they went. The tall one put his gun down by the door while he looked for the key to the lock so I was able to surprise him by opening the door and stealing it. 

As Hiwali listed to Laila's story he nodded in approval and admiration.

"Then, I shut the door and warned them to go away," she paused for a moment for effect. "Then . . . they started shooting . . . then I started shooting through the door . . . Oh Allah!" She then looked down at the floor and put her hand over her face, sobbing.

Hiwali reached through the bars and patted her on her shoulder. "You've been incredibly brave. If only all women went to such lengths to protect their virtue."

"Thank you sir" she said quietly, half smiling through her grimace. 

He then motioned for her to stand back. When she did he shot the padlock off. "I know you probably want to escape, but for your own safety you need to stay inside. The Americans are coming and I don't want to see you get hurt after such an ordeal."

"But what about my family? They'll be wondering what happened to me!"

"They'll be fine! The most important thing is that you stay safe until we drive the Americans out."

Laila nodded. "Yes, of course, you're right. I'm just afraid the CIA agents will come back."

Hiwali shook his head and chuckled. "They wouldn't dare! Otherwise they wouldn't try to bribe thugs to do their crimes for them."

Laila nodded again. "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry for fretting so much, it's just—"

"Think nothing of it! Just stay safe and Allah willing you'll be back with your family in no time."

After the girl shut he door Hiwali and his men stood over Aazim as he struggled for his gun. One of his men kicked the AK out of his reach and spat on the dying man. 

"American" Aazim wheezed as he pointed towards the house.

"Yes, we know the deal you made with the CIA you son of a pig!" the lieutenant snarled as he, Hiwali, and the other men shot another volley into Aazim before returning to the car. 

Jasim lay perfectly still even as the pain in his leg grew. As he heard their car drive off he got up, scavenged Aazim's keys, and limped to the car hoping to find a good escape route, all the while silently vowing never to pick up a gun again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

After watching the militiamen drive off and watching the last of the attackers drop his gun and limp back to the car, Laila placed the rifle on the sofa and went to the bedroom. She found Alec pacing and flexing his hands.

"They're gone" she said.

"How did you get rid of them?"

"I said those men were working for the CIA and were holding me prisoner."

"They bought that?"

"Oh yes" she said candidly. "They think everything bad in Iraq is a CIA plot."

"Thank God for paranoia I guess" he answered.

Laila watched as he kept making fists again and again. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I don't know" he responded, presenting his trembling hands to her. "It's my first gunfight." 

"You're doing fine."

"I want to throw up. I never thought I'd shoot anyone, I mean I never thought I was capable. You know?" 

Laila nodded She sat next to Alec as he lay down on the bed to try and calm down. "I recognized a couple of them. They were the ones who took me."

"Yes they were. The one with the moustache was Aazim, he and my father did business together."

Alec sat up suddenly, his eyes widened when he heard Laila's news. "Did I just screw up?"

"No. Aazim has wanted me for some time. He'd make some offers to my father but he always turned Aazim down."

"So he was here. . ."

"Yes, he was. Thank you."

He shrugged slightly. "Well, I just figured there weren't here to get us out. It wasn't like I was, I don't know, uh, protecting your honor or anything."

"But you did anyway, thank you" she responded softly, moving closer towards him.

"Well it wasn't the only reason I did it, I mean ----"Alec forgot what he was going to say as she took his left hand into her hands. They were soft and cool to the touch, and as his attention turned to her his trembling stopped. For a few moments he sat motionless, looking down at her hands, then up at her smiling face. 

After almost two days, Alec finally left go. He slid his hand out of her grasp, took her right hand and began kissing her palm. As Laila leaned in even closer he worked his way up to her fingers, taking each one in his mouth and gently, slowly sucking on each one. 

Laila was both aroused and fascinated by Alec's affectionate approach. From what everyone had told her she expected to lie down, spread her legs, and endure her consummation. But since her husband was different from the other men she'd know, it made sense his technique would be different as well.

Alec then slid off the bed and knelt in front of her, slowly opening her robe and exposing her skin from the center of her chest all the way down to her lap. He spread her legs gently, lowered himself between her thighs and began gently licking her navel as he moved his hands inside her robe and behind her back. Laila shuddered as she felt his hands on her bare skin. The sensation of his hands skimming her back made her heart race and she began moaning softly and running her fingers through his hair. 

"Stand up for a minute" he whispered. She obeyed. 

He was at eye level with her stomach when his hands began running down her ass, to the back of her legs, then up along the front of her thighs. Laila began breathing heavily as his hands began moving up inside her thighs while he continued licking her stomach. And as his hands moved slowly towards her crotch she was overwhelmed by her conflicting feelings. She wanted her husband more than ever now, yet she felt ashamed of her own arousal. A decent woman wasn't supposed to have feelings of lust, but then again husbands are supposed to only gratify themselves and think nothing of their wives' feelings.

Alec heard Laila's soft panting as he coaxed her body to arousal. She was enjoying herself and he took pride in his success. After all she'd done for him he was determined to make this special for her. 

He stood up and looked at her smooth, bare skin through her half opened robe for a moment before slowly peeling it back, exposing her completely. She inhaled sharply as she stood before him, but didn't attempt to cover herself. Instead, she stared directly into his eyes watching his reaction to her body. She smiled as she watched his eyes widen and his breathing intensify.

After a moment of feverish anticipation they leaned into each other. He took her right breast into his mouth and began sucking on her erect nipple. She signed and continued stroking his hair, enjoying his attention and becoming more and more excited as he moved to her other breast. 

Alec finally couldn't stand it any longer. He took her hands and guided her to the bed, letting her spread herself out on her back while he scrambled out of his cloths and climbed onto the bed and positioned himself over her. Wrapping their arms around each other they began to kiss, long and deep, getting lost in the exchange of sensations as they explored each other. With his experience, Alec took the lead initially, running his tongue around her full lips and gently sucking on the bottom, then the top lip, relishing their soft firm texture. 

Soon though, Laila began to take control, mimicking Alec's technique. At first she wend hard and fast, but gradually finding the right rhythm as she began to revel in her power as she made her husband moan.

Eventually they paused. Laila, who was now straddling him, sat up and looked down at Alec's heaving chest. Alec looked up at her, frozen in aw at her beauty as she looked down on him with her huge, giddy grin and disheveled hair. The light peeking through the blinds highlighted the curves of her full breasts and hips as she caught her breath and began touching her erection. Alec then began to gently thrust his pelvis up against her clit, moving his hips left and right, trying to create friction against her. 

Realizing what he was trying to do, she leaned over and began to maneuver herself against his cock until she felt her clit rub against his erection. She moved her crotch up and down while he made small circles with the movement of his hips. She inhaled with each thrust of her hips and moaned with each exhalation. Gradually her arousal began to build and Alec's cock began to ache from the prolonged erection, yet they continued on and on as Laila drifted further and further into a state of bliss. 

Grasping her hips he began pressing her harder against him as he sat up to embrace her. As with the kissing, he initiated but she quickly took over and set her own rhythm as her pleasure intensified. Soon she was oblivious to everything except her mounting pleasure and her husband's embrace.

Alec, in the meantime, was losing his mind watching her pleasure herself against him. Her moans became louder until they finally became grunts, then whimpers as she edged closer and closer to her first orgasm. Finally she came and Alec felt her legs suddenly tighten around his waist until it was almost painful as her fingernails dug into his back. Her slow moan grew into a long, agonized squeal, and then her grip on him relaxed. 

For several minutes he held her as she recuperated. Laila then went to the bathroom to fetch some toilet paper and wipe of the wet spot on his stomach. When she was done she pulled back the covers on the bed, got in and motioned for him to join her which he did without hesitation. 




Mr. Manning's Consumation Ch. 04



They quickly worked together to get Alec between her legs and inside her. When he entered her wet pussy he moaned at the incredible sensation. He had never had unprotected sex before and now he understood why some of the guys he knew hated using condoms. As good as some of them were, they couldn't quite match the pleasure of full contact. The heat of her body, and the slick texture of her pussy running from the tip of his head all the way down his shaft was indescribable and his body cried out for more. 

Still aroused from her first orgasm, Laila enjoyed feeling Alec inside of her despite the brief moment of pain as her hymen broke. Before long, they both lost themselves again as Alec's thrusts became faster and deeper. Soon he felt the warm tingling sensation build up inside of him and all thoughts of the past three days of resisting his urges evaporated in the primal desire to fuck. Thoughts of his past and their future were all drowned out by the overwhelming instinct that drove him faster and faster. 


When Laila came she let out a cross between a grunt and a growl as she again dug her fingernails into his back. A few thrusts later Alec joined her yelling "Oh shit! Oh SHIT!!" He felt his cum burst out into her in one massive burst, followed by several more spasms that gradually faded in intensity. Alec then collapsed beside her in a state of exhausted euphoria. 

For a time there was only the sound of their breathing as they in each other's arms, studying each other's smiles. Alec kissed her lovingly and she kissed him back. He then put his arm underneath her and pulled her up onto his chest as he rolled over on his back. She shifted around for a moment or two, making herself comfortable. Then she put her cheek on top of his chest and fell asleep. 

As Alec brushed her hair back from her face it occurred to him this was the first time he had slept with a girl and not had to get up and leave. There were no classes to get to, no returning roommates, nothing. When he'd wake up, she'd be there beside him. As he drifted off to sleep an unusual feeling came over him. He felt relaxed, yet excited, strange, yet comfortable, and it all came from feeling her next to him. For the first time in his life he felt whole.

XXXXXXXXXXX

As he watched the endless procession of citizens fleeing the city during the ceasefire, Private Hennessey was startled by the man driving up to him. The driver looked like an American, and both he and the woman passenger were grinning like idiots. Ever since dawn, all he'd seen were the faces of angry, tired, stressed out Iraqis who'd been trapped in their homes for three days. Why in the hell were these two so happy?

As the silver Toyota inched up to the checkpoint Hennessey motioned for the driver to roll down the window. Alec complied. 

"I don't suppose you could point me to the nearest Holiday Inn could you?" the driver asked.

Hennessy stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. Alec then said "Dude? Are you okay?"

"Uhhh, sorry sir. You're American."

"Yeah."

"And you live in Fallujah?"

"Actually I kind of got stuck there when it hit the fan."

"Name?"

"Alec Manning. I'm an aid worker. Maybe you saw a bulletin where I was reported kidnapped?"

"I might have, there have been a few of those lately. Were you kidnapped?"

Alec gave half a nod. "Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It's a long story."

Hennessy tried to figure out what he meant by "Sort of," was it anything like being a little bit pregnant? He then looked at the line of cars behind this Manning guy and gave up trying to understand. "Okay sir, who's your passenger? Is she a hitchhiker?"


"She's not a hitchhiker, she's my wife." Hennessy looked over at the girl as Manning spoke. Her smile grew broader and she reached over and took his hand. 

"Was your wife a hostage too?"

"No."

"But you were a hostage . . . sort of?"

"You got it."

"Uh huhhh."

"Dude, seriously, it's a long story."

Hennessy watched as Manning took the girl's hand, interlocking his fingers with hers. "Yes sir," he answered, "I got that impression. I can't wait to hear all about it on CNN."

"I don't think so" the girl answered as she held back her laughter.

Hennessy shook his head and stood up. "Okay, move it out."

The private watched the car drive twenty yards down the road, then stop. The driver parked the car on the side of the road and Hennessy watched as the couple leaned over and embraced each other. 

He just shrugged and muttered "Whatever" as he went back to work.



Mr. Manning's Consumation



He finally decided to try and talk to the driver, hoping to figure out what was happening. "Excuse me," he said, "Where are we going?"

The boy didn't even turn around to answer. "No English" he said.

"Great" Alec muttered. "At least I know what I'm supposed to do when I get there." 

Laila listed to Alec talk to himself. Why did he ask Aadil about their destination? Didn't he know? Did father arrange a surprise? Why would he not even look at her?

For Alec, the trip seemed endless. In college he lived and died by the clock and now he felt naked without his watch and was going through withdrawal. Laila watched his fidgeting. 

The van finally stopped and Aadil got out and unlocked the back of the van and beckoned the couple out into the cool night air. Aleck looked at the small, one story concrete house and the burglar bars on the door and windows. No way to escape there. He looked at the boy and the AK-47 he was holding, calculating it would not be a good idea to make a run for it. 

The boy motioned for Alec to pick up the two suitcases that had been placed in the van when they left the ceremony. He then followed the two to the front door where the boy unlocked the chains wrapped around the lock holding the burglar bars. He heard them talking in Arabic, wishing he could understand what they were saying.

"Is this a bridal suite or a prison?" Laila asked.

"Father had the extra door and the burglar bars installed six months ago when some thieves broke in and stole some of the furniture. He figured he'd keep it locked until he had some tenants."

"I understand. You're going to lock the door once we're inside aren't you?"

"Uncle Mahmud said you'd need privacy. That's why he wanted you here, here aren't a lot of neighbors to disturb you and your husband—"

"Father picked this house because he could lock my husband in, not to keep people out, didn't he?"

Aadil shrugged, "I don't know. All I know is Uncle Mahmud told my father you needed this place for privacy, I figured you knew about this."

"Knew about what?? Father just told me I was to marry an American Muslim, he said nothing about him being afraid of women."

Aadil looked at Alec as he was surveying the neighborhood, "You think he's like Uncle Ali?"

Laila shook her head, "It would make sense. Lock him in a house and not let him out until he loses interest in men." 

She paused for a moment and looked over at her husband looking like a lost dog carrying their luggage. "I guess you should let us in so we can get this over with."

Aadil unlocked the security door and escorted the couple in putting the padlock back on once the door was shut. He looked at his cousin with an awkward mix of guilt and pity. "Don't worry about food, uncle acquired enough for a week. There's also a shortwave radio in the kitchen."

"What about the bathroom?" Laila asked.

"The toilet works but you'll have to get bathwater out of the kitchen." Laila nodded in acknowledgement and her cousin closed and locked the security door while she shut the main door. 

While she listed to her cousin put the chains on the door she stared into the dark wooden door for a moment, trying to take in all that had happened. She barely had a ceremony, she had no wedding feast or celebration, just an abrupt acknowledgement before she was to lose her virginity and be bound to a man who seemed as bewildered as she was.

This is my punishment for asking too many questions, she thought. In school she always challenged the teacher's interpretation of the Qur'an, and she was always questioning her father about the way he ran his business. This was her punishment for not being respectful enough, she was sent off with some foreign moron in a sham marriage. 

She turned around and saw that he was already heading towards the bedroom. Obviously he wasn't so clueless that he wasn't going to take advantage of his rights as a husband. As she approached the bedroom she took a deep breath and began taking off her bridal gown. 

Alec looked at the bed and thought "Oh shit, she's probably expecting me to do it tonight. Poor kid, she doesn't have a clue about what's going on."

His mind raced trying to think of what to do. He could barely say "Hello" in Arabic much less "Not tonight dear I have a headache."

He heard the dry rustling sound of her wedding gown and turned around to face her. There she stood at the doorway undressing in a slow, hesitating fashion not even looking him in the eye. 

"As she undid the back of her dress and began pulling it down over her bare shoulders he rushed over and began pulling the dress back on, trying not to stare at her half-exposed breasts in the process and thankful his pants were concealing the erection he was getting looking at them.

He tried to figure out a way to communicate his intentions to her. Then, as he watched her undress he forgot what he was going to say. Her dark eyes and hair were a sharp contrast to her white wedding gown. With the veil off, her jet black hair fell down around her shoulders and shimmered against the light of the lamp. The light also accentuated the smooth oval features of her face, from her full cheeks down to her elegant lips and dimpled chin. Her eyes had a hawk-like intensity, and for a moment as he stared into them he was tempted to rip the dress off. As his heart raced and his erection swelled he muttered "Oh boy."

He quickly put his left hand in his pocket to hide the growing bulge and took a few steps back from her. After a moment he pointed to himself, shut his eyes, and began making a snoring sound and pointed down the hall to the living room. 

Laila tried deciphering the weird gestures he was making. So she thought, he's saying he's a pig in the living room? He probably thinks I don't speak English, she thought to herself. 

Alec then motioned for her to sit on the bed and Laila complied. He stood there for a moment with both hands in his pocket. "Boy" he said, "I'm glad you don't know English because right now I have this humungous boner and I don't know what to do with it." 

Laila kept a straight face as he continued. "I don't know what I did to have to marry you but I'm really, really sorry. I just help deliver food and that's it, you know? Maybe I delivered food to your family and they thought they had to make a trade. I don't know. But it would be really wrong of me to take advantage of you like that. So, uh, I'm going to sleep up front and we'll figure this out tomorrow."

As he turned to leave he put up his hand and said "Just stay, okay? Stay." He then ran down the front hall door, retrieved her bags, and shut the bedroom door.

Laila sat on the bed and chuckled. He may have been unwitting and unwilling, but at least he didn't try to take advantage of her. She also took pride in the fact that he had an effect on him no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He might just make a good husband if properly persuaded. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As the four watched the lights go out in the house Jasim decided to speak up. "I wonder what the American is making her do right now?"

"I don't care" said Aazim. "I just know what I'm going to make her do for me."

"Didn't that boy lock the front door" Baber asked. "We may not be able to get in." 

"We'll just use the rifles to shoot off the locks" Aarif groaned. 

Baber retorted "But what about the neighbors?" 

Aazim turned around and faced Baber. "They'll sit in their houses and thank God it isn't happening to them. Now quit whining."

As he looked past Baber and through the rear window he saw a man approaching their car. "Everyone stay put and don't do anything."

Aazim got out of the car and calmly walked towards the stranger wearing his best smile. "Can I help you brother?" he asked.

"Are you the reinforcements?" the first one asked.

"Are you with the militia?" Aazim asked.

"Yes, we're meeting in the garage a few blocks away."

Aazim breathed his most convincing sigh of relief. "Thank god you found us, we got lost and were afraid to ask for help!"

"Yes I know. American spies are everywhere. Just hide your car in the alley and follow us." The man then pointed to the alleyway behind him. 

Aazim then walked back to the car to let them know about the slight change of plans. He looked at the rental house and clinched his teeth, Al-Shirani's daughter would have to wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alec flopped around on the rug amidst the pillows trying to get comfortable, but he couldn't. The experience of going from being a hostage in the morning to a groom in the afternoon, to a husband at night was overwhelming him. The effort it took to hold back his urge to take the girl was also keeping him awake. But, he kept reminding himself that if there was any chance of getting an annulment he had to play it cool. It's like going through a department store, he thought to himself. You break it, you bought it.

He didn't hear her come to him. One moment he was alone, the next she was standing in front of him in her night gown. She was no longer afraid, and her devilish smirk suggested she was more than ready even if he wasn't. 

With one hand she unfastened the front of her gown and it fell to the floor. Alec sat up as he looked at her body, his fatigue and anxieties fading away as he studied every inch of her. This time he wouldn't be able to resist her. 

As he tried to speak she knelt down and put her hand to his mouth and he went silent, hypnotized by the sensation of her warm, delicate hand against his lips. She then sat on his lap, her legs straddling his waist as she draped her arms around his shoulders and began running her fingernails gently through his scalp and along the back of his neck Alec leaned his head back, his lips met hers, and in a second he was lost in euphoria. For a moment he savored the warm, wet texture of her lips, then she gently pushed him back, sitting up so her firm breasts were level with his face. Alec then took her right breast in his mouth and began to gently suck her nipple, the taste of her skin mingling with the salty sweat from the day. . . 

Laila came out of the bedroom for some water when she saw her husband squirming on the pillows and moaning softly. She knelt down and watched his tongue wagging around as if he were licking the air. She looked down at his pants at the same bulge she saw earlier. She then shook her head, wondering if it would ever go down.