The harrowing tale of two Americans kidnapped overseas

Mark is a construction manager from Tennessee, but he now finds himself in the middle of a civil war.

When a violent militia called the Houthis invade the country’s capital, Mark and his colleagues are forced to evacuate.

America is not at war with the Houthis, but after a political uprising, leaders in Iran spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to arm this rebel group from the mountains of northern Yemen.

To oust the country’s U.S.-backed government and aid a bloody conflict with Saudi Arabia, Iran officials train the Houthis to kidnap.

And once the Houthis overthrow the Yemeni government, that’s exactly what they do.

By the time the Houthis climb out of that van wearing masks and carrying assault rifles, the airport is empty.

Mark asks why, and the Houthis raise their guns.

The Houthis shove the Americans into their van.

John has wriggled his hands free, but Mark can barely hold his head up.

The Houthis drive for 20 minutes, and Mark counts each second.

When the van stops, the Houthis throw Mark and John onto the ground.

When no one knew whether he was dead or alive, there were prayer vigils.

Because no one asks anymore.

“People don’t realize how good they have it,” he says.

The Houthis remove their blindfolds, ordering the Americans to squat against the wall.

He doesn’t see the metal bars behind them.

The Houthis ask Mark and John for passwords.

The Houthis take necklaces, shoes and watches.

In the hallway, Mark holds up a piece of paper with writing on it he doesn’t understand.

The Houthis open a large door, laughing while pointing a rifle at Mark.

When the Houthis turn off the light, Mark can no longer see the hand in front of his face.

He tries to go back to sleep but gets out of bed an hour later.

Mark’s home never looked like this before Yemen.

But Mark has changed, in some ways he acknowledges and some he doesn’t.

Mark refuses to eat until he sees John.

The Houthis give him a 2-inch mattress and a thin quilt, but he doesn’t sleep much.

The Houthis handcuff him, drape a towel over his face and shove him into another room.

Mark coughs up blood, and he asks to see John.

On the 22nd day, he gets a cellmate.

First, he picks up a man in a wheelchair who tells him about a car crash near his home.

She doesn’t attend anymore.

And he doesn’t want to be taken by surprise.

He doesn’t want to miss evening service.

It’s been three months since the Houthis abducted Abdulkader Al-Guneid from his home, just days after his 66th birthday.

“I’m Abdulkader, from Taiz,” he says.

He’s being jailed for tweets he sent about the Houthis, a group he explains to Mark like this: In America, he says, it would be like the Ku Klux Klan ruling the country because of support from a foreign nation.

In Yemen, he tells Mark, the Houthis’ rise to power has led to years of war and years of death.

The doctor tells Mark his city doesn’t have access to vegetables, and the Houthis urinate in their water tanks.

He tells Mark it’s dark in here because a prisoner tried to hang himself by electrical wiring from the lights.

Later, the Houthis handcuff Mark and Abdulkader together, barefoot with towels over their heads.

He doesn’t see John.

He and the doctor work out together, and Mark gets stronger.

His family doesn’t know if he’s alive, and he worries he’ll miss his son’s college graduation at home.

He can’t breathe, and he doesn’t feel anything.

The guards threaten him with batons, and he asks the doctor for forgiveness.

When Crystal McAlister drops her husband off at the airport, she doesn’t say much.

Mark says now if Crystal would’ve asked him to stay, he would have.

But she doesn’t.

She doesn’t have any words left.

When they do, Mark asks his employer if it’s safe.

Even after a decade of working overseas, Crystal doesn’t think Mark leaves her enough to live comfortably.

At the airport in Memphis, Crystal says goodbye and little else.

Today, she doesn’t get out of the car.

When Mark lands in northern Africa, his last stop before Yemen, Crystal ignores his calls.

McAlister,” an employee says, "it is extremely important that you get me these things now.”.

When Crystal asks where her husband is, there is a pause.

She stops leaving her home, and her daughter stops trusting her to watch her grandchild.

The State Department tells her Mark will call, but they’ve told her this before.

When another call wakes her up, Crystal doesn’t recognize the number: 00000.

“Crystal,” Mark says.

He tells her he misses her, and he asks how everyone is doing.

Mark doesn’t tell her his shirt has holes in it.

He doesn’t tell her he hears screams every day.

He doesn’t tell her it’s so cold he shakes when he tries to sleep.

He doesn’t know if he’s being led to his execution, but he knows the rain feels good.

Mark,” a guard says.

She asks him to send it to her, and Mark leaves to feed his cows.

Crystal agrees to answer questions, even if she doesn’t always say much.

Today, he doesn’t even say goodbye.

“I think I tore the family apart,” Crystal says.

“That’s what life is,” she says.

He’s made it out of prison, but he doesn’t think he’s going home.

The Houthis show Mark a bombed mosque.

They show him a school and a home.

Mark counts 21 bridges destroyed to keep the Houthis from advancing.

One of the soldiers, through an interpreter, tells Mark they will never give up.

“We will die fighting,” he says.

In what seems like an instant, Mark looks back and the Houthis are gone.

When Jennifer Hamen pulls into the driveway on her twin daughters’ 12th birthday, five government officials are waiting.

The younger kids ask questions, but 16-year-old Johann doesn’t have the answers.

Jen tells the State Department that John has a wolf tattoo on his shoulder and a dagger somewhere else.

“I have some really bad news,” Jen says.

Johann walks to the bathroom, because he doesn’t want to cry in front of his siblings.

The State Department leaves after another hour, and the house is quiet.

No one says anything.

The twins, who had just returned home from their first school dance, lock themselves in their bedrooms.

At some point, Jen asks him to open the gun safe and lock her alcohol away.

When John’s body is flown back to the United States, it arrives at the Dover Air Force Base in Delaware.

Attached to the bag is a paper tag that says: “Unidentified.” There is still sand on the bottom of his feet.

When John’s body is brought to a funeral home in Portsmouth, Virginia, Jen asks to see him.

At the funeral home, she sees bruises.

Before Mark and John, Dave McComas is the first American to return to Yemen.

But when Mark and John don’t arrive a few weeks later, Dave calls the U.N.

Dave walks the property, looking for places to hide if the Houthis break in.

Dave comes to believe the only way he will survive is if the Houthis escort them to the airport.

Otherwise, the Houthis could interfere and then deny responsibility.

He doesn’t speak English, and he doesn’t say anything to Dave.

Dave is responsible for a dozen other projects, but he struggles to think about anything but Yemen.

He struggles to think about anything but Mark and John.

Dave leaves work to pack a bag.

He turns 57, and he gets a haircut.

All he wants to do is go home, but officials need to evaluate him.

When Mark gets off the plane in Memphis, Tennessee, his family is waiting for him.

When he sees his family, he sees tears in their eyes.

But Mark doesn’t want to.

He wants to go home.

He just wants to go home.

Her attorney asks if she has any good memories of John.

“Every time I think of John,” she says, “I just think of him being tortured.”.

For years, the lawsuit alleges, Iranian terrorists trained and supported the Houthis.

In the year prior to Mark and John's capture, the Houthis detained more than 5,000 people.

“The Houthis were a hostage-taking organization,” says Jen’s attorney, Randy Singer.

In the courtroom, Mark doesn’t get to speak to Jen.

For a lot of things, but mostly for not bringing John back home.

Instead, Mark tells the judge about guilt that might never go away.

He says the CEO of Advanced C4 Solutions told him he was exchanged for 40 Houthis and “a large amount of money.” He testifies his back still bothers him, and his right ear rings throughout the day.

Mark has worked all his life, but there are days when he doesn’t want to get up.

He just doesn’t care.

reports, wage charts, depositions and pictures of weapons Iran shipped to the Houthis.

She says it was an honor to be a military wife, but after 22 years John’s supervisors thought it was best for him to retire.

Jen says he left the day after his 45th birthday, and she fell asleep while helping him pack.

When Mark left for Yemen, he visited his daughter Raquel the night before.

Raquel says her father retreats inside now during July Fourth fireworks, and he repeats the same things over and over.

Her attorney asks if Crystal loves Mark.

“I do,” she says.

When his dad died, Johann took on more than any teenager should.

He remembers asking God to send his dad home.

Near the front door of his father’s home now, there is a picture of Christian as a rookie police officer.

When Mark gets home, he asks Christian where his jacket is.

A few minutes later, his dad asks him again.

Mark doesn’t ask about his son’s fiancée, or his upcoming wedding.

Christian says he’s never had a conversation with his dad about what exactly happened in Yemen, and what his dad might still be going through at home.

It's not that he doesn’t want to know.

Before Mark leaves, he asks his son if he needs a jacket.

His wife asks if he wants a tissue.

She tells stories about people visiting her as an excuse to see John.

“I don’t know anything,” he says.

Six years later, the elder Hamen still doesn’t have answers.

He doesn’t remember much from his son’s childhood, even when his daughter shows him a picture.

Mark is standing on torn-up floor in a home damaged by an unchecked leak.

At his job site in a college town 14 miles from home, he crouches.

When he’s working, he doesn’t think about Yemen.

Mark doesn’t need money.

He leaves AC4S.

He does side jobs most days after work, and he is remodeling his own home, too.

Done for the day, he drives home to even more of a mess.

Inside his home, Mark searches for a light switch.

“I don’t like the dark,” he says.

The house is a mess, but his girlfriend doesn’t mind.

In many ways, including some he doesn’t say out loud, Mark wants his old life back.

Because for Mark, home is a myth.

Home is a fantasy.

Home doesn’t exist anymore.

Between May 2016 and April 2020, the Houthis were responsible for 904 incidents of arbitrary detention, 353 incidents of enforced disappearance and 138 incidents of torture – including 27 deaths in detention centers.

His home in Yemen was destroyed.

His youngest sister still lives in the country, and she often asks him about gunfire she hears from inside her home.

He says he doesn’t feel guilt, just sadness

At her son’s graduation, she could only think about how John should have been there

He thinks about the grandchildren he doesn’t see anymore