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"Alab! 'Um!" the child screams as men drag him by his arms, thrashing and hollering for help. The large hands of the men not loosening as they shout at him to stop resisting. Tears are running down the kid's face as he looks at his father and mother who have guns pointed to his turban and to his mother's head. They toss the child in the back of their car as heavily armed Arabic soldiers face the civilians and fire on any that gets in their way.

 They toss the child in the back of their car as heavily armed Arabic soldiers face the civilians and fire on any that gets in their way

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One of them steps from the passenger seat of the sand covered vehicle, his boots stepping onto the light dirt. He is geared up in ammunition and covered head to toe in dirty clothing that matches the group of terrorists. He pulls down the cloth on his face so that he can see, keeping his rifle slung on his back. He walks around to see them handcuffing the kid and putting a terrible looking collar on him. Immediately the man knows what this collar does.

The kid's parents yell for their son but they are silenced and dragged back into their home

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The kid's parents yell for their son but they are silenced and dragged back into their home. The man's eyes lock onto the child's in an odd way before the man looks down at the documents his command officer is holding. This is a delivery.

"Not for ransom then?" he asks him in his Arabic tongue.

"We have new orders. And we will get something in return of course," the man replies in the same language.

"No!" another mother shouts and is almost hit with a thug's gun but it misses. She tries to get her female child—a young teen—they found as they take her away, jerking on her arm and holding a rifle to her head, shouting at her to get in the car.

 She tries to get her female child—a young teen—they found as they take her away, jerking on her arm and holding a rifle to her head, shouting at her to get in the car

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