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Howie was totally taken by surprise at the turn of events. He knew that Hira was desperate to leave the house but never thought she would also break him out of the same prison.

Hira stopped in the kitchen and picked up two bundles, handing one to him. She instructed him to tie it around his waist under the burkha, she wanted him to look pregnant, which would further disguise him and as a bonus keep men from looking at him too closely. Before he really had caught his breath, she whisked him out the door and into the street.

“Won't you get recognized?” he whispered.

“No, no one here has ever seen me without the burkha; they will not recognize the clothes I am wearing. You and I will look like nearly every other woman in the area going to the market.”

They walked briskly for some time; Howie could tell she was very anxious. She tried to appear nonchalant, but her eyes darted around, searching the crowd for familiar faces.

“You need to relax,” he whispered. “Anyone looking at you can tell you are nervous - they will wonder why.”

Hira took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down, slowing her steps to appear more casual. As they entered the market, Hira took his arm to guide him through the mass of people milling around. Voices called to them in a language Howie could not understand; Hira ignored them, pushing on toward her destination.

When they were clear of the crowd, Howie took a chance of whispering to her. “Where are we going?”

“To catch the bus to Baghdad, but we are going to several other towns first to throw off anyone looking for us. As soon as they discover we are gone, they will call all of their men to search the buses going south. But we are going to go north and then south and hopefully evade them.”

“That is a smart plan.”

They walked for several hours before coming to a small town, where they caught a bus to the north. Half a day later, they got off the bus and began walking again, this time to the east. Near sunset, they got on another bus, this one headed south. All night they bounced along the rutted road, neither slept as they were too worried about getting caught. At dawn, Hira decided they needed to change buses once again.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, Howie nodded. At a tiny restaurant, Hira bought them some fruit and a small meat pastry, which they shared. After they ate, they began walking again. Howie's feet hurt terribly, Hira had given him a pair of women's shoes which were too small for him, but he would not complain.

“Are you feeling ok?” Hira asked later that morning.

“Yes, I'm great,” he said, and meant it. For the first time in weeks he had a glimmer of hope that his life would not end in an Iraqi prison cell. “How are you doing?”

“I feel free,” she said, and he could hear the happiness in her voice. “But I am scared too. I do not want to get caught.”

Howie knew that feeling all too well, he had lived in a perpetual state of anxiety since his capture six weeks previously. Now his nerves were jangling even more tightly now, feeling as if everyone was looking at him, waiting to turn him in to his captors.

He needn't have worried about that, though, as there were many women walking along this same road, carrying goods to market. They were all dressed about the same, a few wearing clothes that were of a better nature, but mostly they all looked the same. He prayed that their captors would not be able to recognize them in their drab clothes.

Around noon, they hopped another bus which took them to the far outskirts of Baghdad. Hira chose to exit the bus in a community that was still very anti-American, insurgents commonly used the town as a launching point for attacks, she explained to Howie.

“So why are we here? Wouldn't another town be safer?” he whispered.

“No, they will be looking for us in the American sector - they would never think to look here, it is very dangerous for us to be here.”

That bit of news didn't help his nerves any, but he didn't voice his concerns to Hira. He had to trust her - she was risking her life as well. They walked the streets for a bit, finally entering a low building where Hira arranged a room for the night.

“I could not get two rooms, that would raise suspicions...and you must not speak too loudly as we are in the women's wing, no men are allowed.” He nodded, trying to stay as quiet as he could. She led them to their room and opened the door; the room was not any larger than his prison cell had been. There was a bed, a rickety chair, and a small table with a pitcher of water, a bowl, and a used bar of soap. Only a washcloth and one small towel hung from a peg in the wall.

“It's not the Hilton,” he whispered, teasing Hira, his voice imitating that of a petulant child. She sighed, and then bumped him gently with her shoulder.

“But we will be safe here for the night,” she said, flipping on the light and closing and locking the door behind them. “At least they have electricity here, which is unusual. But do not be surprised if it goes out, the power is very unpredictable.”

Howie was so tired that all he could think about was sleeping. But the bed was tiny, they would have to snuggle together and he was sure that Hira would not want to do that.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he volunteered.

Hira giggled. “I do not think you will want to do that,” she said. Howie glanced down and then shuddered. Insects scuttled around and droppings from mice filled the corners. “We can share the bed, I do not mind,” she volunteered. The thought of laying beside him caused a shiver to run through her body.

“That is gracious of you, thank you.”

“I will go find us something to eat. You can wash while I am gone - there is a bathroom down the hall but it is for women only. I do not think it would be a good idea for you to visit the men's wing either, since you do not speak the language you would be suspect if anyone talked to you.” She helped him remove the burkha and then left, Howie locking the door behind her as she requested.

He took off his clothes and poured some water into the basin. He used the washcloth to remove as much grime as he could - the water in the bowl was soon brown. He desperately longed for a good long soak in a hot tub, some shampoo, and a shave. As he washed, he prayed that this ordeal would be over soon and that he and Hira would be safe. He didn't want to think about what might happen after that.

He put the pants back on but left his shirt off while his torso air dried - he didn't want to soak their only towel, he knew Hira would want to wash as well. There was no sink in the room; he didn't know where to empty the basin so he left it.

Hira returned a little later and they ate in silence, perched on the edge of the bed. “Be sure to drink all the tea,” she said. “You are probably still dehydrated.”

He noticed that she wasn't drinking. “What about you?” he asked.

“I drank mine on the way back here from the market.” She urged him to drink and he did so. “I am going to the bathroom down the hall to wash; I will be back in a little while.” She took the basin of dirty water and their only towel with her.

After she left, Howie laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. In no time at all he was asleep, his body craving the rest that had been denied for the previous 48 hours.

****************************

Howie slept deeply, bits and pieces of dreams filled his head. In one dream, he was running from some unknown danger, and then the next minute he was diving into a pool of the clearest blue water. He felt like a dolphin, swimming easily through the water until he felt the need to breathe. As he broke the surface of the water, someone called out his name. He climbed with some effort from the water; he was now in a candlelit room. A woman stood there, naked and glorious in the flickering light.

She was gorgeous, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She was petite, with full breasts, a tiny waist, curving hips, and shapely legs. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, the color of wild honey. She had amazingly high cheekbones with a slight arch to her nose, which gave her a regal air. Her lips were inviting, but it was her eyes that held him - a brown deeper than his own, nearly black, but with a sparkle that was inviting

“Do you want me?” she asked, her voice silky smooth and soft.

“Yes,” he said, reaching for her hands, pulling her to him.

She pulled away from his grasp. “You must undress first,” she said. “I will do it for you.”

In his dream, the woman undressed him quickly, tossing his clothes to one side. Her hair was a lustrous dark brown, halfway down her back, with a slight curl at the end. She looked up, her eyes shining in the candlelight.

“You are ready for me, I see,” she whispered. He looked down; his erection was indeed hard and throbbing. She took his member in her trembling hand, caressing it ever so lightly. Howie shuddered; her touch sent shock waves through his body. She touched her lips to it, and then ran her tongue along the length.

Howie shut his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth enveloping him. With fingers and tongue, she pleased him until he could no longer control himself, spilling his seed with abandon. She pushed him down on the bed, laying down next to him.

Reaching out, he caressed her breast with his fingertips, the skin as smooth as silk. She pulled him to her and captured his mouth, gently thrusting her tongue between his lips. They kissed for a long time, all the while exploring each other's bodies with inquisitive hands, finally pulling apart, breathless.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, and she silenced him with a finger to his lips.

“You must be very quiet, my love...no one must hear us,” she said softly.

“I'll be as quiet as a mouse,” he promised, his lips teasing her neck. She lay back and let him explore, her body arching as his mouth found her nipple and sucked very gently. His hand was hot as it cupped her other breast, then created a trail of fire as it ventured further south.

“Ahhh,” she sighed as his fingers found the center of her being, caressing, teasing, and then finally entering.

He kissed her deeply to keep her from calling out as he educated her to the pleasures he could give her. He released her suddenly, turning his body so that his mouth was where his fingers had been. He tasted her, running his tongue along her womanly warmth, making her moan with desire.

She shoved a fist into her mouth to keep from crying out as he took her to the pinnacle and beyond. Her body convulsing, he held her, whispering in her ear as her breathing slowed.

“Did you like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his breath hot on her neck.

“Oh yes, very much so,” she admitted. “But I want to feel you inside me.”

“I think that can be arranged,” he sighed, easing his body on top of hers. She spread her legs, eager to have him within her. She arched to accept his member; it slid in to her hot depths.

“Oh dear lord,” he whispered into her hair, which he noticed smelled of fragrant flowers. “You are so tight, my love.”

She caressed his back as he slowly eased into her, his lips teased her neck. She arched her hips against him and he thrust deeper, only to find resistance.

“What the hell...” The woman dug her fingernails into his buttocks and he jerked involuntarily, thrusting himself deeply into her, breaking through the barrier. The woman cried out very softly, and then moaned at the pleasure of having him buried within her.

“Oh Howie,” she sighed, wiggling underneath him, urging him to continue.

By now, Howie was beyond thought as the tightness of her overwhelmed him and he lost himself in the pleasure. One stroke followed another, each one more pleasurable than the one before, until his mind was completely filled with the sensations of her. Together they rode the crest, finally plunging down the slope to the ultimate ending, shuddering in each other's arms.

“I love you,” she whispered, stroking his cheek with gentle fingertips. “Thank you, my beautiful man, I will never forget you.”

*********************

“Are you finally awake?” Hira asked, looking down at him, the veil covering her face as usual.

Howie rubbed his eyes and sat up; light was streaming in through the tiny window. He realized that he was laying on the bed alone, his shirt still off. He must've fallen asleep before Hira came back from her bath the night before. With a start he remembered his dream from the night before, a deep blush colored his face.

“Are you ok?” she asked, alarmed at the color of his skin.

“I'm fine,” he said softly, remembering her admonition to be quiet. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yes, did you not feel me in bed next to you?” Her voice was silky smooth and slightly husky, her eyes glittered in the early morning light.

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t,” he admitted, wishing fervently that he had. He had long wondered what she looked like, what her body beneath all that cloth felt like. Some of the passion from his dream returned, he had to turn away from her to hide his growing erection. “I hope that I didn’t...” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“You were very tired, you slept the night through. And you were the perfect gentleman,” she said, as he pulled on his shirt. She suddenly turned very businesslike, her voice becoming harder. “You must put the burkha back on today, but hopefully just for a bit.”

She helped him don the garment. “What are the plans for today?” he whispered.

“I arranged for a truck to take us closer to the American sector they call the green zone. Once there, we will walk to the checkpoint and turn ourselves in.” She adjusted the fit of the monstrous black tent and reached underneath to roll his pants legs back up. She glanced up at him, her big brown eyes shining with some emotion he couldn’t define. He started, something inside of his brain screamed at him but he couldn't figure it out.

“Won't that be dangerous?” he asked softly.

“Yes, very much so. It is possible that Abu Hasal will have his men watching the checkpoints.” He could hear a touch of panic in her voice, but she fought it back. “We will have to stay extremely calm - the soldiers will be very nervous seeing us approach.”

“Do you have something white, like a handkerchief?” he asked. She nodded, pulling out a white silk scarf. He tucked it into the sleeve of the burkha, out of sight for the moment.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“No, I'm too nervous,” he admitted.

“Me too. We need to go; the truck should be here any time now.”

Hira cautiously checked out the hallways and the tiny lobby before letting Howie come out of the room. They went outside and waited around the corner, out of sight of the main street. A few minutes later, a rattling truck stopped and Hira urged Howie to climb into the back.

“How long will it take?” he asked, the dust swirling around them as the truck navigated the crowded streets.

“About 30 minutes before we get to our drop off point, and about 10 minutes to walk to the check point.”

“I think that will be the longest 10 minutes of my life,” he said, Hira agreed.

A bit later, the truck pulled off the main highway and into a deserted side street. The two of them hopped off the back of the truck and began walking south, using some of the less crowded streets.

“Abu Hasal may be watching the main streets; we will approach through this old neighborhood.” Children ran in the streets, dogs barked, and men lounged in the bombed out remains of buildings. Howie could tell that some major fighting had gone on around there, few buildings were left standing.

As they approached the checkpoint, they talked quietly so as not to be overheard. They both were terrified, but tried to calm each other down with stupid jokes.

“We are almost there,” she said. They could see the soldiers standing just 50 yards in front of them; some were talking to a man in a car, checking out his papers.

Howie held out his hand to Hira, when she took it she could feel something it in. “Take it, please. You may need it, if we get separated.”

She slipped her hand into the pocket of her pants without even looking at what he had given her. She already knew it was the American money that he had offered her before.

“Howie...I am scared.”

“Me too, Hira. But we’ll make it, I know. And I promise you that I will take you back to America with me, I'll do everything that I can, ok?” She nodded, but he could see the tears in her eyes. “I can't thank you enough for what you’ve done for me, Hira. I'll never be able to repay you for all that you have suffered on my account.”

“It has been all my pleasure,” she said, her voice husky. “Without you, I would still be stuck with those two horrible men. You gave me the courage to leave.”

They walked in silence for a few more yards. “Hira...do you know where my friends are being held?”

She bowed her head but kept walking steadily. “Yes.”

“Will you tell me where they are?”

“I am sorry, Howie, but it is my only bargaining power. I will ask for political asylum in exchange for that information.” Her hand reached out and touched his for a brief moment. “I know you promised to help me, but if your government would not ransom you out, how do I know that they will allow you to take me with you? I do trust you, but I have to look out for myself too.”

“I understand, Hira, it's the only logical thing to do...and I'm not upset about it.”

Their steps slowed as they approached the checkpoint. The soldiers were watching them now, having let the truck go on through the gate. Howie let the white scarf slip through his fingers and dangle out the bottom of his sleeve, it waved gently in the slight breeze. He felt the sweat pour from between his shoulder blades.

Hira took his free hand and they walked together up to the soldiers.

“May we help you, ladies?” The soldiers were quite wary; they had been attacked using female suicide bombers before.

Hira took a tiny step forward, she was shaking badly. “The woman with me is actually an American man who was kidnapped from Spain six weeks ago. I am trying to get him back to you safely.”

The soldier turned to Howie. “Is that true?”

“Yes, my name is Howie Dorough and I'm from Los Angeles, California.”

“You need to remove your scarves and let us pat you down first,” one of the soldiers said. Hira backed up a step in terror.

“We must not, there are men on this street looking for us!” she cried. “They will shoot him rather than have him back with you,” she warned.

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but we can't take your word on who you are.”

Hira tried to argue with him, but the solder took them by the arms, pulling off their veils. Howie had only a second to see Hira's face before shots rang out, a bullet whistled by his head, missing him by only a hair. Hira's body slumped to the ground. The other soldiers began firing as civilian Iraqis ran for cover.

“Hira!” Howie screamed as they dragged him away. A soldier picked her up and was carrying her in the opposite direction. He wept as he realized that the dream from the night before had been no dream - it had been Hira who had come to him in the night.