My Dinner with ISIL
We were not badly treated; quite the opposite, we were brought a substantial meal and drinks. But, contrary to the instructions we received in war-zone training courses, I refused to eat. It was now a personal issue: How could they grant us safe passage in, then detain us? Was this our reward after producing three reports from the ISIL strongholds of Hawija and Baija? Hours later, a well-built man in a balaclava came rushing out of nowhere. “Are you Naser Shadid,” he asked. He shook my hand and shouted: “Clear the
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