Sacred Stone (Oregon Files 2)

TRUITT STARED AT the side window of the Gulfstream as it streaked across the sky at over five hundred miles an hour. Far below, the coast of Spain sat glowing in the sunlight. Rising from his seat, he walked forward and knocked on the cockpit door.

“Come on in,” Chuck “Tiny” Gunderson said.

Truitt opened the door. Gunderson was piloting and Tracy Pilston was in the copilot’s seat. “How’s it going up here?” he asked.

“Here’s the score,” Pilston said. “Tiny has eaten a turkey on rye, an entire bag of M&M’s and half a can of smoked almonds. I’d keep my hands away from his mouth if I were you.”

“There are two things that make me hungry,” Gunderson offered. “Flying is one of them, and you know the other one.”

“Salmon fishing?” Truitt offered.

“That too,” Gunderson agreed.

“Dirt biking?” Pilston said.

“That too,” Gunderson agreed.

“It’s probably easier to find out what doesn’t make you hungry,” Truitt said.

“Sleeping,” Gunderson said, slumping over and faking a nap.

“What did you need, Mr. Truitt?” Pilston asked as Gunderson continued to pretend he was asleep. The Gulfstream flew along untended.

“I was just curious if we were landing at Gatwick or Heathrow.”

“Our last orders were Heathrow,” Pilston said.

“Thanks,” Truitt said as he turned to leave.

“Can you do me a favor?” Pilston asked.

“Sure,” Truitt said, turning around.

“Order Tiny to let me fly, he always hogs the controls.”

Gunderson’s mouth barely opened as he spoke. “It’s on autopilot.”

“Play nice, kids,” Truitt said, walking away.

“I’ll give you a Snickers if you let me fly,” Pilston offered.

“Shoot, woman,” Gunderson said, “why didn’t you say so?”

24

A WIND INFUSED with a fine powdery dust blew from east to west, coating all in its path with grit. Dust in Saudi Arabia was as constant as the tides in the ocean. Cool temperatures like today, however, were as infrequent as steaks at a Hindu wedding.

Saud Al-Sheik stared at the empty expanse of the giant stadium in Mecca.

Saudi Arabia was blessed with huge reserves of oil, fine hospitals and schools, and Islam’s holiest site, Mecca. It is recommended that devout Muslims make the pilgrimage to Mecca, or hajj, at least once in their life as a statement of faith. Each year, thousands of the faithful converge, usually in early January, with most also taking a trip to nearby Medina, where the prophet Muhammad is buried.

The influx of so many pilgrims in so short a span of time is a logistical nightmare. Housing, feeding, caring for the sick and injured, and providing security for the masses is both mind-boggling and expensive.

Saudi Arabia bears the costs of the pilgrims visiting as well as the public scrutiny if something goes wrong.

With U.S. and British forces occupying both Iraq and Afghanistan, the simmering hatred for the West that permeated the region was a powder keg ready to explode. Security this year at Mecca would be tight and unyielding. Fundamentalist Muslims wanted the West crushed and wiped from the planet like a plague.

The hatred was mirrored by the Western world, which after 9/11 and numerous terrorist scares and attacks had lost all patience with the fundamentalist message. If one more attack was to occur with Saudi nationals involved, most citizens in the United States would advocate an occupation of the oil-rich country. The lines in the Western world had become more defined as of late. There were two kinds of people in the world—friend or foe. Friendship was rewarded—enemies should be eradicated.