The shore was an exquisite bed of sand, shimmering under the warm sun, lapping the serene ocean. The waves rolled in with a soothing sound, back and forth from the gritty brim and hit the beach with little force. The unending grains of golden sand, the glittering blue waters and layers of green on the hilly cliffs, the seagulls wheeled overhead in the far-off flaring hues of the horizon, rising and falling low over the sea to prey on fish; the Zakynthos island was awe-strikingly beautiful.
Upon the sand was a small boat, it's wooden boards warped, dark and wavy, it bobbed slightly as the small waves crashed against it. In it, she lay senseless, with her hands tied up and her mouth was stuffed with a piece of cloth.
The thick salty air whipped at her cheeks and consumed her breath, some dust scouring the back of her throat, mercilessly. Her chest tightened and ached, but she kept breathing for air. Unconscious, she shivered terribly, her eyes only able to see darkness which surrounded her mind. She whimpered as intense pain seared in her head, curling up in a ball, she suffered every minute that passed by. Waves of heat coursed through her veins, cold sweat glistened on her forehead as she tried to open her eyes; her weak senses not letting her to.
Then, a violent jerk to the boat had her eyes flung open widely, streaks of sharp sunlight hit her and she closed them back in a second. Her limbs flexed in shock as they weren't movable; they were tightly pulled and tied around her waist, her feet were secured to something which pained her ankles.
It felt like her brain would swell beyond the capacity of her skull, she raised her heavy eyelids halfway only for them to fall shut.
There was a jerk again, followed by a voice, " Get her inside! The countdown begins."
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The watch on his wrist beeped as Moutasim jumped off a wall. He paused to glance at it, it was a message; a terrifying message. He quickly diverted his direction and threw himself forward with great speed as time was running out. His lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough as he swung forward, panic trembling in his exhausted self. He had to run, for all it took, he just had to keep moving his feet.
After some forty minutes, he wiped the sweat on his forehead when a beach came in the view, his long legs broke and collapsed beneath him on the loose soft, sand, his breath came in small squirts, hot and anxious. Through his cloudy vision, he observed some thatched huts standing among the tall, looming palm trees.
He kicked open the doors to all the huts, having to hear shouts and curses for intruding privacies. With long strides and a heavy heart, he pushed opened the door to the last hut.
"Marhaba," came a sarcastic greeting from the corner of the room.
The voice was familiar. It was so familiar that it felt acid to his ears. He cringed and paused, without giving any thought about what the outcome could be, he lurched forward to punch the man's face when some guys held him back and handcuffed him.
Panther sat in all his highness, crossing his leg over the other, he moved back in the chair and taunted with a smug smile, "Getting very repulsive, aren't we?"
A growl escaped his throat and he bellowed violently, "If you even think about doing something to her, I will rip you away, dog!"
He threw his head back and gave out a demon's laugh. Looking at his face watchfully, he signalled to one of his idle men and continued to search for anger, rage or even revenge, but all that was evident on Moutasim's face for fear. He was relentlessly kicking and pushing harshly to let go of himself, with the fear of losing someone, losing her, trying to totter away from their grip, but they held him tight.
Panther sat back and smirked in satisfaction, he assumed that he had hit the right cord by laying hands on Riya to get Moutasim sucked in all by himself as it seemed that for about a couple of weeks, he had been playing the game of hide-and-seek; trying to repel.
No matter how big and powerful he was, involvements with the corrupted officers in the law enforcement, still and all, there was a weak point to Panther. He was a criminal, a scoundrel one, too clever to be good. One foolish stroke from him and he would be over.
The reason why he was so adamant to kill Moutasim with his own hands was that he was one of his trusted men and the ones who are trusted the most, must be finished to the dot once they induce aversion.
Maybe, Moutasim did forget that nobody played with Panther and ran the risk of outright declaring it quits, but now that he had dared to, he was going to see the consequence.
As per the command, two big ogre-like men who had disappeared inside a room, carried Riya out, grasping her arms like she was a lifeless doll. She did look lifeless for real, her eyes utterly still, her mouth stiff and agape, as for a moment, Moutasim thought she was dead. He desperately flailed his arms to reach out to her, but a guy on his left gave him a bulky smack on the head, to keep him tamed.
Panther stood up and came close to him, "We never dupe Panther and get hitched, now, do we?" He clicked his tongue, "You could have thought about this beauty, at least?" He rested his palm on the chest and gave him a sly look, smiling smuttily, "Don't worry, we'll take care of her."
Terror overtook his face, Moutasim had enough of it. With tightened muscles and handcuffed clenched fists, he hurled himself forcefully to strike him, but seemingly, his attempt failed once again.
Panther gestured his men and they all followed him out with their captives into the open, over the cliff rising from the sheer sparkle of blue ocean. Moutasim's eyes couldn't leave Riya, he wasn't quite able to apprehend Panther's next move yet because his mind was in full swing, devising an escape to stand guard her, obviously, she was his first concern out of all things in the world, at the moment or at any other given moment for that matter.
They all stood like a polished, strong army, ready to risk their lives to serve their nation, yet they were nothing but a bunch of hostile, heavy lawbreakers, wrapped around their boss's finger. To Moutasim's right, stood two men who had Riya hanging from their forceful arms, his blood boiled at the sight of them touching her, but he had to stay calm for him to be smartly able to get out of this turmoil. Any emotional stunt would have him dead, earlier than intended. To his left were Panther and about six men, facing him. In one frozen moment, within a blink of his eye, Panther had his arm stretched long, a revolver pointed towards him.
His hands were cuffed behind his back, so he struggled to reach in his back pant pocket to remove a metal shim, carefully apprizing, he pushed the thin piece of metal, in between the teeth and the locking mechanism inside the cuff. Leaving the shim in, he sharply twisted his wrist and pushed opened the handcuffs. He held his hands tightly together to not stir any motion for one of them to seize him down.
The ocean breeze felt unusually hot, like static. Agitation quivered in the air, made his heart to jump while it thudded in his throat. He licked his dry lips as every particle in the air was dehydrating all through the insides of his soul.
He wasn't afraid to die nor had he ever been for the numerous times like these in the past year, though this time around, someone was playing with his life otherwise. He knew what was to become of Riya once they shoot him. He wouldn't let that happen, ever. Never losing to a million, billion, gazillion Panthers to dare. He had to live, for her.
Panther's index finger settled on the trigger, the rest of his palm clutched at the barrel.
Moutasim's eyes were fixed at Riya, his hands still at the back in the unlocked handcuffs.
Just a move and either one of the two would reach their target.
But for the looks of it, it seemed different. Moutasim's end of the twenty-five years long journey was on the verge and Panther, just another routine exercise he liked doing. Kill.
Senses sharpened with adrenaline, he held his breath, straining to hear the slide on top of the gun to be pulled back to get the bullets aligned into the firing pin. He knew all the technicalities as he was well rehearsed with them, thus it helped him put his mind to work in all directions while his sight was focussed on one.
It was nearly a pin-drop silence, just with some lazy waves rolling a couple of feet below, over the edge of the solid rock cliff.
Finally, there was the sound of a metal clinking.
With no last wishes asked to be fulfilled or acknowledgements made, death was beginning to knock his door in silence. The hair at the nape of his neck stood up and he had goosebumps up and down his arms.
He glanced up at the pure uninterrupted blue sky, his heart whispered a prayer to the Lord of the worlds. Prayer doesn't need words, it need not a language to express. Though made in English, Arabic, Urdu, Pashto, French, Latin, Spanish or just nothing but a cry without uttering a single word, made from the bottom of one's heart, it shakes the heavens and pours down the Mercy of Allah 'Azza Wa Jal.
The trigger was halfway pulled back...
Fear didn't shut him off, it woke him up.
Moutasim's legs explode into violent motion and in less than a millisecond, he tossed towards Riya and pushed her off the cliff, throwing himself after her!
A deafening gunshot was blasted into the dangerous quietude as they both flung in the air and were dropping down into the deep brine of the sea.
There was a splash heard from some feet below, echoing with the roar of waves that had formed as the ocean had engulfed within itself two new rhythms of dooming heartbeats.