The Storm (NUMA Files 10)

Sabah was calm and stern in the cool night air. “Like you suspected, Aziz has reneged on his promises. He no longer has any interest in supporting us.”

A flicker of light reached them from the distance. Out on the horizon, near the coast, a line of thunderstorms had begun to form. The rains had not yet pressed inland, but soon the desert would begin to feel the relief of unexpected showers; the final proof of his brilliance. And yet things were threatening to fall apart on the very cusp of victory.

“Aziz is a traitor,” Jinn said, his face expressionless.

“He is a man with his own interests,” Sabah counseled. “Like all men, he follows those that profit him. You would do well not to take offense personally.”

“Those who break their vows offend me personally,” Jinn said. “What excuse does he give?”

“The politics of Egypt,” Sabah said. “The military has controlled everything there for fifty years, including the most profitable businesses. But things are still in turmoil. The Muslim Brotherhood is consolidating power, and it’s dangerous for the military to support anything secular these days. Especially an outsider.”

“But our program will help them,” Jinn insisted. “It will bring life to their deserts as well as ours.”

“Yes,” Sabah said. “But they have the dam at Aswan, and the water in Lake Nasser behind it. They don’t need what we offer as much as the others do. Besides, Aziz is not a simple man. He knows the truth. You can bring the rain or you can withhold it. But if you bring it for the others who pay, it will fall on his country just the same.”

Jinn considered this. It was unavoidable. “I am more than he suspects,” Jinn insisted. “I will force his hand.”

“I warn you, Jinn, he will not turn.”

“Then I will take my revenge.”

Sabah did not seem pleased by this. “Perhaps this is not the time to make new enemies. At least until we have dealt with the Americans. You know they’ve found evidence of the horde on the damaged sailboat.”

“Yes,” Jinn said, displeased with the news. “They are now hunting for Marchetti. He is their prime suspect.”

“They will find him easily,” Sabah said. “These people from NUMA are determined. They will not hesitate to confront him.”

“Of what concern is that to us?” Jinn said. His words dripped with arrogance and self-assuredness.

Sabah did not seem pleased. “Do not underestimate them.”

Jinn tried to reassure him. “I promise you, my good and faithful servant, suspicions will not be cast our way. When they find Marchetti, they will find their end and whatever lies beyond for infidels like them. Now, on to harsher business.”

Up ahead a group of Jinn’s men stood guard around two of their own. The two sat on the ground, tied back to back, directly beside an old abandoned well. Its cavernous mouth waited, dark and gaping, surrounded by only a mud brick wall that rose less than a foot and burnished with A-frames of iron on either side that might once have supported a crossbar from which a bucket was lowered on a rope.

Their eyes looked to Jinn, filled with fear, as they should be.

“Have they admitted their failure?”

The captain of the guard shook his head. “They insist they did only as ordered.”

“You told us to attack the woman,” one of the men said. “We did as you commanded.”

“You were supposed to attack her only as a diversion to lure the man away. He was the target, you were supposed to take him if you could, not run like cowards when he chased you. And, above all else, you were not supposed to be seen. There are now descriptions of you circulating, even a photograph from a dockside security camera. Because of that, you are no good to me anymore.”

“The island is so small, we had nowhere to hide. We had to escape.”

“You admit it,” Jinn said. “You took the path of cowards, the way of ease.”

“No,” the man replied. “I swear, this was not the case. The trap did not work. The man overpowered us. We had no guns.”

“Neither did he.”

Jinn turned to Sabah. “What do you suggest?”

Sabah looked at the men, and the small crowd of Jinn’s other loyalists that had gathered around.

“They should be lashed,” Sabah said. “Covered in honey and staked to the ground. If they survive till the noon hour, they should be forgiven.”