The Storm (NUMA Files 10)
Jinn considered this for a moment. It would please the other men, but it might send the wrong message. One of weakness.
“No,” he said. “We must not have pity. They have failed us due to a lack of will. Such thoughts cannot be allowed to spread to the others.”
He stepped closer to the men. “I will take care of your families. May they live to be more noble than you.”
He stepped back and sent a powerful kick into the first of the men. The man fell sideways, dropping over the edge of the abandoned well. For a second he hung there, suspended and held in place by the weight of the other prisoner, whom he was tied to.
“No, Jinn,” the second man shouted. “Please! Have mercy!”
Jinn kicked the second prisoner even harder than the first. Teeth flew along with blood and saliva. He fell backward, and both men tumbled into the w
ell, their cries echoing as they dropped. A second or two later a sickening crunch silenced them both. Not even cries of anguish followed.
Jinn turned to the other men. Fury lined his face.
“They have forced me to do this,” he shouted. “Let it be a lesson for all of you. Do not fall short in your tasks. The next to fail me will die slowly and more painfully, I assure you.”
The men shrank back from him, reminded of his wrath and power.
He stared at them and then began to walk off. Sabah fell in beside him, keeping up with his stride.
“I’m not sure that was—”
“Don’t question me, Sabah!”
“I only advise you,” Sabah insisted calmly. “And my advice would be, mercy to your own and wrath to your enemies.”
Jinn fumed as he walked. “Those who fail me are my enemies. As are those who betray me and break their promises like Aziz. The funds he’s withheld have us teetering on the brink. They have us pleading with the Chinese and the Saudis for more. I want that changed. I want Aziz groveling before us and begging for our help.”
“And just how do you propose to do that?”
“The dam at Aswan gives him power,” Jinn said. “Without it, Egypt could not feed itself, and Aziz would need us more than all the rest. Find me a way to bring it down.”
Sabah paused. If Jinn was right, he was calculating the possibilities. His eyebrows rose. “There may be a way.”
“See to it,” Jinn said. “I want that dam in ruins.”
As Jinn spoke, the sound of thunder rumbled across the desert toward them. Lightning flashed across the sky in the distance. To Jinn, it seemed like a sign from above.
Sabah noticed it too, but his eyes showed only concern.
“Many will die,” he said. “Perhaps hundreds of thousands. Most of Egypt’s population lives near the banks of the Nile.”
“Payment for Aziz’s betrayal,” Jinn said. “Their blood is on his hands.”
Sabah nodded. “As you wish.”
CHAPTER 11
“IS THERE ANY FOOD SERVICE ON THIS FLIGHT?” JOE ZAVALA asked.
Kurt chuckled as Joe complained. The two of them sat with Leilani in the passenger compartment of a Bell JetRanger. Five thousand feet below, the shimmering surface of the Indian Ocean passed. They could make out the pattern of waves, but there was no sense of movement. It was like staring at a glittering picture.
“Seriously,” Joe added, “I’m starving.”
The pilot, a Brit named Nigel, glanced back at Joe. “What do you think this is, mate, bloody British Airways?”
Joe turned his attention to Kurt. “I’d like to lodge a complaint with the leader of this expedition.”