Bin Laden's Woman, Page 4

that man.

  - Sorry - he continues. - I couldn’t receive you yesterday as I should. My pain was killing me. I'm medicated, but I'm not well.

  Samira is still stunned.

  He continues with that paused speaking, looking into her eyes with that long beard and that messianic look. Like dead fish look, actually.

  - My life has been a constant struggle, always running, always hiding. These past five years, you might imagine, were the worst. I spent too much time in the caves, I feel a horrible pain throughout my body.

  Bin realizes that the young woman can’t understand anything, he keeps talking.

  - Please, have a sit. I know it is difficult for those who live in the West understand our cause. I was told you spoke kindly about our people. I know you were born in Damascus.

  - Kindness ... But three thousand people killed ...

  - I know, I know, it takes a while to understand, I hope you don’t close your mind completely to our ideals, our God. You've probably noticed that I am not in a position to take a new wife, especially beautiful and young as you. Not that I don’t have the resources, my health is not good enough.

  My God, what will happen to me? - Samira wonders.

  - You know our customs, a man can have as many wives as he can support with dignity. It’s not as people imagine, the man only sleeps with his favorite; the others had done their role as mothers, become wise counselors and help taking care of the family. Now, my wife is Amal, the fifth. She must have taken care of you.

  - But...

  - We needed a reason to bring you here, all our promises will be kept, but we need you for a bigger mission. For all intents and purposes, you are my fiancée, everyone will respect you as you deserve. Only Amal, the Doctor and I know the whole truth. These two have given me proof of absolute loyalty and I still believe they will do more. I hope you keep this secret for your own safety. Anyway, don’t expect much understanding from Amal, I assured her about her position, but you know how women are. Please make yourself at home, our life is modest because the target is our fight. Today, I can’t go on, my condition gets worse with any effort; we’ll talk again tomorrow, sorry.

  The man closes his eyes and sighs.

  Samira leaves the room.

  The Plan

  In the following days, Amal explains to Samira what is expected from her.

  The situation was becoming unsustainable. With twenty-five million dollars prize for her husband's head, the world was shrinking.

  The doctor thought that the only possible escape route was Brazil, especially the inner cities of São Paulo.

  They were pretty developed; the arrival of a group of immigrants wouldn’t arouse much attention.

  They were used to Arabs, who were part of the people, immigration and miscegenation was massive there.

  Paradoxically, it was the only place in the world where first word excellence and corruption could live together.

  There was many good hospitals and doctors, Bin needed treatment and an important plastic surgery. He still refused to accept the idea of ​​changing his face, he liked his image, but it was the only way. He spent hours watching videos with his own image, it seems he wanted to memory as he had been.

  Samira had everything they needed. A Brazilian passport, an unsuspected name, a bank account and was an expert on computers, internet, these things.

  They would begin with modest transfers of funds to Samira’s account; they would gradually buy some properties. Finally, they would prepare for the moving.

  Most of this should be done by Samira via internet. The messenger brothers were very trustable, but, except for the arms, their knowledge about technology was zero.

  A New Life

  Samira was a tough girl, she wouldn’t sink into despair, she thought a lot about her situation.

  Their plan was very simple. As for her, she soon realized that she would become the key to the safe money box and she would be closely watched, very closely.

  They were patient and careful when talked to her about their struggle, hoping one day she could really understand what Girad was, and do all she was expected to do by faith in God. Samira soon realized that she should avoid any indiscretion or she and all the Naffahs would pass into history as some more martyrs of the Holy War.

  For those who had knocked down the Twin Towers and a piece of the Pentagon, it would be a piece of cake, definitely.

  She also couldn’t imagine what it would happen to her when they got what they wanted. They didn’t seem to worry about it. They trusted she would soon be fully engaged to the Holy War, would be one of them. She knew this wasn’t going to happen and she would be at great risk.

  - Take your time, they said, to avoid suspicion. Moreover, Bin’s health was getting worse and worse, they would have to move soon. Oh my God.

  Samira accepted the game, at least temporarily; her fate was to do what they wanted. She had to keep herself alive. After three thousand innocent people, one more, one less wouldn’t make any difference to them.

  For safety reasons, the only communication with the outside of the house happened when the brothers left for shopping. They had no telephone, TV or internet.

  In today's world - Samira thought. Wouldn’t this raise any suspicions? A house that big without a phone line?

  Every day, Samira, closely watched by Amal and the brothers, left the house in the van. While Arshad went shopping, the others were in the car, protected by the darkened windows.

  Then Samira tried a WiFi internet network that could be invaded and started navigating. They often changed position and network to not raise suspicions.

  It took a bit, Amal prayed, Tariq always seemed to be in another world. Samira used all the features on the laptop to download multiple files at once. Later, she would work with them. She received passwords for some accounts of the organization and started making transfers. At first, they were monitored by the Doctor, far away, he followed everything over the network.

  After some time, Samira joined up to that strange community. They were all very reserved and cautious, continued taking care of their lives.

  Their faith was impressive; they were living with a sword over their heads. It made no difference at all! They didn’t lose a night's sleep, and each new day was a blessing.

  They didn’t want to be anywhere else, nothing more than that simple life. The men watching over, the women taking care of the house.

  To be helpful, she offered to take care of the chickens, she liked it since childhood. Also showed her skills in the kitchen, her nice and brown fried chicken with a generous onion and garlic sauce, was successful. She learned to eat with her hands.

  And time went by.

  The Disease

  Bin was only getting worse!

  Resources were limited, they had tried everything they could, samples were sent for examination. They didn’t find anything, it wasn’t rheumatism, arthrosis, arthritis, gout, nothing. No bacteria, no trace of virus.

  The pain got worse every day.

  Samira was getting more scared. She was afraid of being left if they decided to move suddenly; afraid of what they would do with her if he died suddenly.

  She spent more and more of her precious time on the net, visiting sites about health and medical advances. It couldn’t be a common disease; otherwise they would have already found it. She started looking for alternative therapies.

  She found several references, some sites seemed reliable, linking the problem of muscle pain to fungal infestations.

  It had everything to do with that. Years in dark and damp caves. Poor diet, low in protein, natural defenses decrease.

  She studied the subject deeply. It was something new, the medical community was skeptical, but there were many testimonies in favor.

  Apparently, the fungal colonies adhering to the intestinal walls ended up making the wall permeable. Toxins escaped from the intestinal tract and were deposited in the muscle tissue, causing pain.

  Even if the explanatio
n wasn’t exactly this, it was worth a try.

  She spoke to Amal, who told her:

  - It can be that; when Bin was still in the caves, he had some itching and took an antimycotic. The pain actually decreased. After some time, the drug began to do more harm than good, intoxicated him.

  It was a very good sign, she continued looking.

  The suggested diet was relatively simple and without risk. Cut down on anything that could ferment easily, feeding the fungi, such as gluten, sugar, flour, etc. The idea was killing fungi by starvation.

  He could eat only protein and vegetables. Garlic, ginger and coconut oil, coadjuvants.

  She had to convince her patient. She found it difficult to say to that noble warrior he was simply plenty of fungi.

  She began comparing the human body to a battlefield, which caught the attention of the Arab.

  - In this field, the battle never ends - she said. Each new day, good microorganisms fight the evil ones and vice versa. When we are happy, doing the right things, the good ones start to win, we are healthy, otherwise we get sick.

  Bin thought this metaphor also had something to do with his own struggle, but he felt terrible, was ready to try anything, such was his pain.

  As anticipated in the treatment, the symptoms worsened at the beginning, that was the reaction of the fungi, and then, they gradually slowed.

  Everyone was very grateful to Samira, even Bin, very reserved, used to call the young woman. He liked the stories she told from Brazil, the people, their jokes.

  Travel plans to Brazil were postponed, the urgency decreased, they were enjoying that apparent safety.

  Life followed its