and countless murders. I can safely assume this will be the same?”
“But of course,” I replied as I pulled a fat envelope from my man-dress and passed it over. “As usual, you don’t want the details. I was never here.”
Jalal raised his eyebrows as he flipped through the stack of money. He looked around the room as he shoved the money into his coat. “That is a considerable sum,” he said. “A considerable sum indeed. You do realize, however, that there are men hiding in this country who are with organizations you have stolen from. In fact, I know that one
I cut him off. “I know who hangs out here.” Everyone knew Zubara was a safe haven for various terrorist organizations. Diplomatically, the government was friendly to the US, and tolerated the Israelis, but the official government was growing weaker by the day. “Maybe you talk, and I end up on an Al Jazeera video getting my head sawed off?” I had robbed, conned, or defrauded every major criminal organization on earth at some point. It had made me both a lot of money and a lot of enemies. “We both know that won’t happen, because you know I’d find a way to take you with me, and besides, I pay way better than those cheap bastards.” I gestured toward the envelope. “That’s the first installment. I’ll pay you double what I paid you in Dubai.”
“It was only a hypothetical.”
“And just so you know, I’m doing this job for Big Eddie. So if you
His eyes grew wide as he processed that information. Regardless of who you were in the criminal underworld, you were afraid of Eddie. He was evil incarnate. It was my ultimate trump card, because no one on Eddie’s naughty list lived for long. Jalal’s demeanor changed and he gave me a big smile, always the businessman. “Of course, my friend. How can I be of service?”
Jalal Hosani was a facilitator, not a man who got his hands dirty. He knew people. When you are operating in a new area, you had to have intelligence, and that meant knowing the right people. Jalal knew the right people. Of course, he would also sell me out as soon as it benefited him. So I had to make sure that the math stayed in my favor, because I actually kind of liked Jalal, snake that he was, and killing him would make me . . . sad. Sort of.
“Later on I’m going to need a source for equipment, weapons, vehicles. Usual stuff, but right now I need information. I need to know what’s really going down in Zubara.”
“The emir is having a battle against one of his generals for control of the government,” Jalal said as if this were common knowledge. “The pro-Western factions are siding with the emir, the fundamentalists and Iranian puppets are siding with the general. It hasn’t become violent yet, but it is only a matter of time.”
I nodded. “I know that much. What I need to know is who all the players are, and then I’m going to have you do a few introductions for me. Which side are you on?”
“General Al Sabah is a very dangerous man, but the emir should not be underestimated.” My old acquaintance appeared to give it some thought. “I suppose I will wait and see which side wins. That is always the side to be on.”
“I killed a guy named Al Sabah once.”
“It is a common name.” Jalal shrugged. “Either way, most of the army is loyal to the general and his personal guard is growing with many foreign”—he paused, looking for the right word— “volunteers.”
“You mean fundamentalist nut-jobs who got tired of getting their asses kicked up north decided to get a different job where they could still sock it to the Great Satan?”
“Something like that. Now let us get down to business.” We spoke for another half an hour, during which he provided me with the low down on the various players in this unfolding drama. I was careful to give him no information about what I was actually doing here. I asked random questions about unrelated things, to cloud the issue just in case he was planning on betraying me. The meeting was beneficial, and I learned quite a bit more about the inner workings of Zubaran politics. Finally we were done, and Jalal, late for his next appointment, excused himself. We would be in touch.
I leaned back in my chair and watched him leave. The power struggle complicated things. Politics in this part of the world was like a high-speed chess game where the losers got put in front of a firing squad. Heightened tensions led to heightened security, which could prove to be a pain. If the situation deteriorated too quickly, it might spook our mark, and ruin Phase One. We would have to adjust accordingly.
A moment later the server approached me with a menu. The young man greeted me with a great deal of respect. “We did not know you were going to be visiting us today, Khalid.” He addressed me by the fake identity I had been cultivating here over the last few months. “How can I be of service?”
Zubaran food was relatively bland for this part of the world, but it was tolerable, and scheming always made me hungry. “Kusbasi kebab, and make sure to spice it up this time. And fetch a chess board. I’ll be meeting Al Falah for a match shortly.”
He snapped his heels together and retreated toward the kitchen. The service here was excellent, as it should be, since I was their new landlord. I had bought the club outright as soon as I had arrived in Zubara. I checked my watch. My next appointment should be on the way.
At least for now, Phase One was proceeding according to plan.
Chapter 2:
If You Die, They Don’t Have to Pay You
VALENTINE
Quagmire, Nevada, USA
January 30
1420
It was quiet in my Mustang, save for the noise of tires on gravel, as I made my way down the long, winding road to Hawk’s home. I hadn’t been down this road in months, not since I’d first settled in Las Vegas.
Hawk’s real name was John Hawkins. I’d met him in Afghanistan years prior. He’d been the team leader of Switchblade 4, my team, before moving into the training section, then retiring. It had been Hawk who’d taught me how to shoot a revolver and instilled in me a love of Smith & Wesson .44 Magnums. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw that Tailor’s Expedition was right behind me, shrouded in the cloud of dust my car was kicking up. Our two vehicles were laden with nearly all of my worldly possessions. It was surprisingly little, all things considered.
The dirt road passed through a barbed-wire fence, but the gate had been left open. Up ahead, I could see Hawk’s ranch house and the barn beyond it. Several trees shaded the house from the afternoon sun. I could see a couple of horses absentmindedly chewing their feed, paying us no mind.
I came to a stop near Hawk’s Dodge turbo-diesel pickup truck, and Tailor parked next to me. I stepped into the cool desert air, glad that I’d worn a jacket. Tailor joined me a second later.
