That concluded the ritual of ablution, which would mark the beginning of his life as a declared warrior of the Jihad. Now he was ready to kill and die for the greater glory of Allah.
He grasped the pistol, allowing himself a brief smile. He could hear the plane’s engines. It was time to give the signal.
With a solemn gesture, Russell left the tent.
87
AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN
The pilot of the BA-609 was Howell Duke. In twenty-three years of flying he had logged 18,000 hours in various types of aircraft under all possible weather conditions. He had survived a blizzard in Alaska and an electrical storm in Madagascar. But he had never felt true fear, that cold sensation that made your nuts shrivel up and your throat go dry.
Until today.
He was flying in a cloudless sky with optimum visibility, squeezing every last drop of horsepower from his engines. The plane wasn’t the fastest or the best he had piloted, but it certainly was the most amusing. It could reach a velocity of 315 miles per hour and then hover majestically in place like a cloud. Everything was going perfectly.
He lowered his eyes to check on the altitude, the fuel gauge, and the distance to his destination. When he looked up again his mouth fell open. There was something on the skyline that had not been there before.
At first it looked like a wall of sand one hundred feet high and a couple of miles wide. Given the few landmarks in the desert, Duke thought at first that what he was seeing was still. Slowly, he realised that it was moving, and it was doing so quickly.
He would need at least three minutes to land the plane, and the wall was less than twenty-five miles away. He made a quick calculation. It would take the simoon another twenty minutes to reach the canyon. He pressed the helicopter conversion mode and felt the motors slow down immediately.
Three and a half minutes later, the landing gear of the BA-609 was settling on the flat ground between the camp and the excavation. Duke cut the engine and for the first time in his life he didn’t bother to go through his final safety check but got out of the plane as if his pants were on fire. He glanced around but couldn’t see anyone.
He ran towards the tents, although he wasn’t so sure that being inside a tent was the safest place to be. Suddenly a figure dressed in white was walking towards him. Before long he recognised who it was.
‘Hey, Mr Russell. I see you’ve gone native,’ Duke said, feeling nervous. ‘I hadn’t seen you-’
Russell was twenty feet away. At that moment the pilot noticed that Russell had a pistol in his hand and stopped in his tracks.
‘Mr Russell, what’s going on?’
The executive said nothing. He simply aimed at the pilot’s chest and fired three quick shots. He stood over the fallen body and fired three more times into the pilot’s head.
In a nearby cave, O heard the shots and alerted the group.
‘Brothers, that’s the signal. Let’s go.’
88
AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN
‘Are you drunk, Nest Three?’
‘Colonel, I repeat that Mr Russell just blew off the pilot’s head and then ran towards the excavation. What are your orders?’
‘Fuck. Does anyone have a visual on Russell?’
‘Sir, this is Nest Two. He’s climbing the platform. He’s dressed kind of strange. Should I fire a warning shot?’
‘Negative, Nest Two. Don’t do anything until we know more. Nest One, do you read me?’
‘…’
‘Nest One, do you read me?’
‘Nest One. Torres, pick up the fucking radio.’
‘…’
‘Nest Two, do you have a visual of Nest One?’
‘Affirmative, sir. I have a visual, but Torres isn’t there, sir.’
‘Shit! You two, don’t take your eyes off the entrance to the excavation. I’m on my way.’
89
The first sting had been on his calf, twenty minutes ago.
Fowler had felt a sharp pain, but luckily it didn’t last long, fading into a dull ache, more like a hard slap than the initial bolt of lightning.
The priest had planned to suppress any screams by gritting his teeth, but forced himself not to do so yet. He’d try that with the next sting.
The ants had gone no higher than his knees, and Fowler didn’t have the slightest idea if they knew what he was. He tried his best to seem like something that wasn’t edible or dangerous, and for
