Iraqi terrorist-hunter Omar Mohammed and his wife, Amira, tell a tale of Baghdad romance:
“He saved my life,” Amira says quietly. “It was very romantic.”
Omar leans against the counter. “I got shot twice in the leg.”
Amira, an electrical engineer, had done some work for the Americans in the Green Zone when she started getting threats. She was living with her parents, and her family took the threats seriously because her sister, who was also working with the Americans, had already been shot in the chest three times by militants at a roadblock. Army doctors worked fifteen hours and saved her life.
“Friends in the FBI asked me to check up on Amira,” Omar says. “So I went to see her…”
He gave Amira his cell number — and told her to call anytime, day or night.
“I’m on night shift when she calls,” Omar says. “She’s terrified, whispering that men with guns are in her house looking for her.”
Amira had locked herself in the bathroom. The gunmen were ransacking the house and yelling, Which one works for the Americans?
Omar grabbed a vest and an AK-47 and raced to the house in his SUV, lights flashing. There were two cars parked at her front gate, and an armed lookout. Omar crashed straight into the first car.
“My SUV landed right on top of it, killing the getaway driver inside. And then I shot the lookout.”
Clemente’s youngest son asks, “You killed him?”
Omar looks to Tim, who nods, It’s okay.
“Yes, I killed him,” Omar says softly. “The gang was shooting at me from inside the house. I kept firing, killing two of them, and I saw a third go down. I ran inside the gate, trying to get to the house. That’s when I felt the first bullets hit me.”
As Omar was falling, he returned fire, killing the last gunman. By that point his backup had arrived.
“So you know what he does?” Amira says. “He tells his guys to carry him inside. So they do, and he knocks on the bathroom door.”
“I wanted her to hear my voice,” Omar says. “So she’ll know she’s safe.”
“I opened the door,” Amira says, “and saw him, leg bleeding and shattered, being held up by his men.”
“She squeezed my breath out,” Omar laughs, “and we fell to the ground.”
“I waited at the hospital all night outside his room.”
“In the morning she kissed me. And three months later we got married! That’s Baghdad romance.”