144.
“But you will come with us!, blurted Conrad.
Amira stroked the leather seat of the Bugatti. “He is named BanAn, ‘Tips of the Fingers’
in English. He will take you to out of Iran and into Iraq.”
I bent down to load our bags and heard something fly past my ear. Conrad scream in pain and grabbed a blood-soaked arm. A hole opened in Nanette’s ear.
“Get in the car!”, screamed Amira. She forced us into the seats as bullets slammed around us. I grabbed the wheel and turned on the ignition. A rush of dark figures pounced on Amira, pulled a hood over her head, threw her aside and reached for us.
Then their faces froze with surprise and confusion. I realized Amira’s claim was no joke. We had disappeared. I threw the Bugatti into gear, hit the accelerator and slammed into them. Their bodies flew in all directions. The doors of the garage burst open. “How bad is it? How bad are they?”, I screamed to Pat.
“Pay attention to the road!”, he ordered.
Conrad howled in pain as he pressed his arm with all his strength. Nanette grabbed at her ear. Blood poured over her eyes. Pat gave me a furious look. “Drive!”
Blood ran down the seat and onto the floor. My foot slipped on the gear peddle.
Conrad turned ashen. “We can’t leave her. They’ll torture her!”
Pat ripped Conrad's shirt and tied his arm. He wrapped Nanette’s ear. “We have to save ourselves first!” Nanette’s eyes rolled back. “Hold on, baby!”, he pleaded.
I bent down to load our bags and heard something fly past my ear. Conrad scream in pain and grabbed a blood-soaked arm. A hole opened in Nanette’s ear.
“Get in the car!”, screamed Amira. She forced us into the seats as bullets slammed around us. I grabbed the wheel and turned on the ignition. A rush of dark figures pounced on Amira, pulled a hood over her head, threw her aside and reached for us.
Then their faces froze with surprise and confusion. I realized Amira’s claim was no joke. We had disappeared. I threw the Bugatti into gear, hit the accelerator and slammed into them. Their bodies flew in all directions. The doors of the garage burst open. “How bad is it? How bad are they?”, I screamed to Pat.
“Pay attention to the road!”, he ordered.
Conrad howled in pain as he pressed his arm with all his strength. Nanette grabbed at her ear. Blood poured over her eyes. Pat gave me a furious look. “Drive!”
Blood ran down the seat and onto the floor. My foot slipped on the gear peddle.
Conrad turned ashen. “We can’t leave her. They’ll torture her!”
Pat ripped Conrad's shirt and tied his arm. He wrapped Nanette’s ear. “We have to save ourselves first!” Nanette’s eyes rolled back. “Hold on, baby!”, he pleaded.
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