The ISIS Affair by David Rich

Author:David Rich
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, adventure, travel, religion, satire, black comedy, isis, syria, gullivers travels, comedy action
Publisher: David Rich

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

RAQQA OR BUST

“We’re stuck with orange suits the rest of our worthless lives. Give me serenity,” said Ralph as the lights came back on, illuminating the boys in the furthest corner, where they were sprawled on mats in rumpled orange jumpsuits. The rhythmic rap of a Kalashnikov on the giant door vibrated the cage as a guard yelled unintelligible instructions.

Doug and Ralph jumped up as the cage door swung open and a mass of orange suits surged forward, desperate men yelling at the top of their lungs.

“That wasn’t a plan,” said Doug. He dove to the floor as Kalashnikovs laced the men, throwing them around like rag dolls.

The bodies of the prisoners jerked and toppled into bloody heaps, bullets ricocheting off the bars like angry bumblebees. Doug and Ralph lay screaming as a crew-cut guard stepped inside the cage and placed the muzzle of a gun on Ralph’s palsied head.

“Don’t fucking shoot,” said Ralph with his hands behind his head, twisting to see the guard. “We’re off to Raqqa!” he said when the gun barrel knocked Ralph onto the mat.

Doug lumbered up stiffly, raising his eyebrows. “Take us to Colonel Beretta, now. We have an appointment.”

The crew-cut guard seemed unfamiliar with the British royal accent. He gleefully clubbed Doug like he enjoyed the exercise, covering them with the Kalashnikov as two more guards rushed in with long knives. They were followed by a cameraman, a scraggy little guy with a goatee who looked like Toulouse-Lautrec. The knives were placed across their throats, stretching their necks upright so that Doug and Ralph stood taller than seemed possible for men their age, as the camera rolled.

“Beretta,” they croaked in unison. “Beretta, Beretta.” This halted the arc of the knives a split second before their certain demise. Disappointment etched Toulouse-Lautrec’s face as he turned the camera to more colorful tableaus. The rich smell of blood choked throats and sinus cavities in a rotunda awash with what looked like pools of paint made black by the fluorescent lighting.

The guards marched Doug and Ralph out of the cage with knives at their throats, past two guards working in tandem with long knives, slicing heads off dead bodies. Toulouse-Lautrec wielded the video camera like he’d done it a lot, zooming in for dramatic angles.

A burly guard wrapped a muscular arm around a forehead and lifted the body, stretching the neck and with a serrated commando knife, severing the throat in one fell swoop, the almost bloodless cut exposing a cross-section of tiny white bones. The guard held the head high, posing as a dribble of blood coursed from the neck and down the guard’s arm. He dropped the head, which bounced on the floor as he grasped the next dead body.

Out of the corner of their eyes, they saw a sightless Bishman seized by the forehead. They kept their own heads stock still and high for safekeeping, inspired by the sharp knives as they were quick-marched down the hall.

The guards halted at the sentry posted by Beretta’s office door.

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