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Jahni lay
in bed, morning light piercing his curtains, trying to summon the strength to
get up and take a shower. Or perhaps a bath, to ease the muscles that ached
from three days of intense training for the strike on the terrorist camp. And he
hadn't even been doing the riding training! He was amazed not to be dealing
with a dozen transfer requests from the men learning to ride now for the
mission they'd fly out to tomorrow. Perhaps
he'd sleep for a while longer and then maybe go to the sauna for a long steam
and a massage to get the aches out of his muscles. The men going on the
mission had today to rest, before they reported before dawn tomorrow to board
the plane that would take them north. Just as
he had closed his eyes again, his phone began ringing on his nightstand. If
he'd been a praying man he'd have prayed as he reached for it. Prayed that it
wasn't an emergency call. Please, not now. Not a plane hijacking, or a call
to flush a nest of terrorists here in the city. "Jahni,"
he said, his voice hoarse and sleepy. "Good
morning, Captain." A man's voice he didn't recognise. Certainly nobody
from the unit. "I hope I'm not disturbing you." "Who
is this?" Jahni asked, rubbing his eyes. "My
name is Mr Younis. I work in His Majesty's private office. We've met at the
palace on two occasions, though I'm sure you have no reason to recall
me." He
didn't. One of those forgettable grey men who quietly arranged things for the
king. Not a celebrity like Captain
Jahni of the Royal Guard. He grimaced. What would it be like to be one of
those grey men? Did they long for a life like his? "What
can I do for you, Mr Younis?" "I
would like to arrange a meeting with you, Captain. The matter of the seizure
of your father's business was recently brought to the attention of His
Majesty and he has requested that I expedite the release of the proceeds of
the sale to you." In his
sleepy state the bureaucratic speech almost went right over Jahni's head, but
he managed to grasp the essence of what Younis had just told him and sat up
in bed abruptly. "My
father's money?" "Yes,
sir. His Majesty has instructed me to make arrangements to see that you are
paid back as quickly as possible." This
couldn't be real, could it? Had one of the letters from Faris' lawyer finally
hit the right desk after all these years? "I
see." Jahni had no idea what else to say. "His
Majesty had instructed me to advise that you will also receive the entire
amount in your father's personal and business accounts at the time of the
seizure and that you should be compensated for a further amount, to be
determined by taking the average of the net profits of the business for the
five years prior to the seizure and adding that amount for each full year
that has passed since." "I...
don't know what to say." "I'm
not quite finished, sir." "What
more can there be?" "The
land on which your family home was built was also seized. That was never sold
on and the deed for the land remains in the treasury and will be returned to
you. No insurance claim was ever made for the destruction of the house,
however a policy existed with up to date premiums. I am currently in
negotiation with the insurance company to make a suitable settlement." This time
Jahni didn't speak at all, forcibly reminded of the day he'd gone with Madari
to visit the graves of his parents and sisters and had seen the rubble that
remained of their home. He hadn't even thought about the house and the land
for many years. "Are
you still there, Captain?" "Uh,
yes. I'm sorry. This is just rather a lot of take in. I really never expected
to see the money again. A lawyer has been working on it, but..." He'd
let the lawyer go on doing that because it kept Faris happy, but he'd lost
hope about it years ago. "How much money are we actually talking about
here?" "It's
a substantial amount, and the figure is not finalised yet, as the insurance
claim is still to be settled. Also the compensation for lost profits is still
negotiable. That's why I want to organise a meeting, with you and your legal
representative." "I...
yes, of course." He'd engage Madari's lawyer, he supposed. He deserved
to see this finally settled. "I won't be available for the next few
days, so some time after that?" "That
will be fine, Captain. In a week perhaps? That will give me time to conclude
the negotiation with the insurance company. Meanwhile, have your lawyer
contact me directly and I'll pass him the full details in preparation for the
meeting." After he hung
up, Jahni lay down again, staring up at the ceiling, seeing nothing. After
all this time! Why now? What had made it happen? The subject had come up at
the party the other night. Had Colonel Rahama said something? But he'd known
about it for years. Could a reminder have spurred him into action. Sophia?
But what influence did she have on the king? What about Madari himself? He'd
been to the palace for a meeting a couple of days ago, to brief the king on
the planned mission. Had he mentioned something then? It couldn't be simple
coincidence, surely. He
laughed suddenly. Well, now he could make a large donation to Sophia's worthy
charity after all. That should please Faris. ~~~~ Madari
grinned at Jahni when their convoy of vehicles arrived at the co-ordinates
he'd specified. Jahni stared at the dozens of horses waiting for them. "I
told you I had it in hand." "You'll
have to tell me one day how you did it," Jahni said, climbing out of the
Land Rover and stretching. Other Land Rovers and trucks stopped and men began
to climb out. "Get
everyone kitted up, and dressed," Madari said, striding off towards the
man in charge of the horses. Other Bedouin men started to hand over reins to
the dubious-looking soldiers, as the soldiers donned long robes, most of them
black like the nomads. If they were spotted, then they could hopefully pass
for a tribe travelling over the mountain to fresh grazing land on the other
side. The men
laughed and joked about which of them should be impersonating Bedouin women
for the trip, but their disguises worked well, the voluminous robes hiding
their body armour and weapons. Saddle bags took their helmets and the
contents of the small packs they carried. Seeing
the preparations well underway, Jahni put on his own robes and walked to join
Madari, who stood talking with an elderly man, a good six inches shorter than
him, with skin like leather. "Kahil,
this is Amran. A cousin of Halais." "My
respects, sir," Jahni said, bowing his head as the man looked at him
with sharp eyes squinted almost closed by a life in the sun. "Captain
Jahni. My cousin has spoken highly of you." "He
honours me, sir." They shook hands, but cut it short, with business
pressing. "I
decided to miss the tribal council," Amran said, turning back to Madari.
"Lot of old men talking. Besides a man with a new wife shouldn't stray
far from home." He smiled in a 'pleased with himself' manner. "My
congratulations," Madari said, while Jahni boggled at the thought of the
old man being a bridegroom. "And my thanks for organising the horses we
needed." "It
wasn't easy," Amran said. "But money talks. Try to bring all of
them back in one piece." "You
have my word." "I've
chosen your guides. They'll take you to where you can leave the horses and
then lead you on foot the rest of the way." He looked at the sky.
"You'll have to go within the hour to get to the stopping point before
dark." Madari
and Jahni glanced around at the men. Most were mounted now, the officers
obviously more comfortable and easy on the horses than the more dubious
looking men they circulated among. "I
will leave men here to guard our vehicles," Madari said as he put on the
robes Jahni handed to him. "If some of your people are staying, there is
food and drink in the trucks." His black robes fluttered in the breeze
and Jahni found himself smiling at the sight of him in them. The
Knight of the North had come home. The last
arrangement made, they set out. A mile or two of near desert scrub land led
them into the foothills of the northern mountains. Thirty
men on horses were impossible to conceal and they didn't try, relying on
their disguise to fool anyone watching. The hills were near deserted of
course, but Jahni knew that if he was in charge of that camp, he'd have long
range patrols to warn of anyone coming too close. They took
a route that most nomads would be expected to take; a steep, sometimes even
treacherous path, but wide enough for the surefooted horses to negotiate.
Another, narrower path led more directly to their target, the chief guide
explained, but that would make it obvious where they were heading. This route
would circle around above the camp and allow them to make their way down to
it on foot. Madari
glanced back at the men strung out behind them on the path. The sun was
sinking now and the shadows of men on horseback stretched long over the harsh
rock. "Our
tribe," he said to Jahni, who nodded. Jahni
thought of them exactly that way. Tribe meant family, and for Jahni there was
no family but Madari and the unit. His brothers. And speaking of family, he
still had a question to ask. He'd had no chance to tell Madari about the
return of his money on their flight, and it wasn't something he wanted to
shout over the noise of the engines anyway. Now he had an opportunity. "Faris."
He glanced around to make sure they weren't overheard, and leaned across to
Madari. "Did you talk to the king about my father's money?" Madari
frowned. "What? No? What makes you ask that?" "I'm
getting it back." He smiled at Madari's amazed stare. "I got a
phone call yesterday from a man on the King's staff. I'm getting all of it
back." "My
God! Kahil, congratulations!" Madari grinned, pure delight on his face.
"It must be a fortune! I suppose my lawyer's letters finally got
through." His voice softened as he said the last part. Jahni still
doubted the coincidence, but didn't pursue that yet. "So, do you have
any plans for the money?" "Not
yet," Jahni said. "It still seems unreal." "When
the money is in your bank account and the bank manager is falling over
himself to be nice to you, then it will seem real." "Yes."
He smiled at the thought of that. It would be like when he paid in eighteen
month's worth of back pay. But that had been years ago. Between his car, and
paying back Madari for the flat, there wasn't much of that left and the bank
manager had gone back to being merely polite. "You
could buy a house," Madari suggested. "In
a fashionable district? Something more suitable for a Royal Guard
officer?" "Property
is always a good investment. And you are
a Royal Guard officer." Jahni
shrugged. He found it hard to imagine himself in a sizeable town house, with
domestic staff maybe. Faris would probably start up again with his
suggestions that Jahni get married. Of course, there was the plot of land
where his home had been and the insurance settlement that should be enough to
rebuild a house. He could do that, live out of town. Live in
the place his family died. No. He'd
sell the land. "I
like my flat." They rode on in silence for a while. "There's
no hurry to do anything, of course. Take advice about it." "I
suppose I'll have to change my will," Jahni said and in the dimming
light, caught a grimace flickering across Madari's face. "Of course.
That would be sensible." There
wouldn't be much to change. He only had Madari to leave his money to. The
flat would revert to him too. There were a few charitable bequests in the
will; he could increase the amounts on them. Glancing up the mountain, where
he would soon fight, he thought it would be ironic if he died tonight. If he
never saw the inheritance he'd waited so long for. "I
thought you'd be more excited about it," Madari said. "It's a lot
of money. You're rich." Jahni
laughed. "Well, I don't know about rich." "Invested
properly, it can give you a comfortable income." "I
already have an income." True, it
would allow him to live a lifestyle more like most of his fellow Royal Guard
officers, but did he want to? It seemed a frivolous way to use the money,
fritter it away. Of course, not all Royal Guard officers had lavish
lifestyles. Madari had some expensive hobbies, like the falcon and the horses
and... he shouldn't call Sophia a hobby. But he didn't spend a lot of money
on entertaining, or fancy clothes. And that damn Volvo would have to fall
apart before he finally replaced it. "I'm
still thinking about what I'll do with it," he said. "One thing
about this does bother me though." "What's
that?" "The
old regime were the ones who stole the money, yes? So the king really is
under no obligation to return it." Madari
shrugged. "I don't know if that's true. The money went into the national
treasury. It's not as if they took it and spent it all on drink and
women." Jahni
smiled at what he suspected was an attempt to cheer him up, but grew serious
again a moment later. "Perhaps
that's true. But still, I don't think there's really any legal case for the
King having to give me that money back when he didn't steal it." "Then
he's decided to do so on grounds of fairness. It's the right thing to
do." "Yes.
Especially if he wants to ensure my continuing loyalty." Madari
turned to him, staring. "That's..." He lowered his voice when the
word came out near a shout. "That's absurd. If you're suggesting it's
effectively a bribe, well, I'm shocked you could think that about the King.
He knows you're loyal. He knows he doesn't have to pay you to continue to be
loyal." "I
think the King is a more cynical man than you, Faris. He doesn't trust that
people will do the right thing out of principle alone." "I'm
not naïve, Kahil, but I know you don't need to be bought off." "The
King doesn't know me the way you do." A flush
rose in Madari's cheeks, and he fixed an intense stare on the path ahead.
Jahni held in a laugh. No, the king certainly didn't know him the way Madari
did. That would be quite... inappropriate. ~~~~ They
reached the place they'd leave the horses just as the light finally died, the
sun dropping behind the mountains. Madari
ordered them to set up camp, knowing that they had to keep up their pretence
of being a tribe of Bedouin on a journey, in case they were observed.
Besides, the raid would not be for several hours yet and the men could take
this time to eat and rest before they went into action. They
quickly established a camp. No tents, but blankets and bedrolls arranged
around some fires to heat their food and keep off the chill of the night.
Here in the mountains the harsh rocks gave up the heat of the day quickly. Madari
sat with their Bedouin guides, discussing their role in the night's work. Two
of them would guide the soldiers the rest of the way, while the others
remained with the horses. As they talked, they ate, a simple meal of bread,
cheese and cold meats, and a dense cake full of dried fruit. If anyone was observing them it would be
something of a giveaway to be seen eating Army field rations. The ate what
their guides would eat on such a journey. Madari
took his leave after the meal, strolling to look down into the sea of
blackness that was the desert, and then at the sky. A clear night, moonless,
the stars bright in the infinitely black sky. It had grown very cold now and
he considered going to get his gloves from his pack, but for now, folded his
arms, putting his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe. "I
don't see the stars looking quite like that very often," Jahni said,
stepping up to his side. "Living in the city, with all that light." "Perhaps
you should build a house out in the desert with your inheritance,"
Madari said. Jahni
nodded. The small cloud of his breath showed twice in the chilly air before
he spoke again. "Perhaps out in your village?" The
shiver that ran through Madari had nothing to do with the cold. The distance between
their homes - their beds - was a barrier, just like their uniforms, the law
and Sophia. If they were close enough for a short walk through the darkness,
keeping to the shadows... so close, always calling to each other. "That
might not be a good idea." "I'm
kidding." Jahni didn't smile. "I might spend a little of it. But
I'm probably just going to invest it. You know... for the future." "The
Guard does offer a good pension. Don't deprive yourself now against your old
age, when you will be well provided for anyway." Hard to
imagine Jahni as an old man. Or at least as a retired man. Easier to imagine
him in his forties, still handsome, with some distinguished grey hairs,
wearing the uniform of a general. Think
about that, not about the way he fills out the black battledress he's wearing
under the robe. Figure-hugging, flattering his fit, strong body... "Well,
who knows if I'll get to the point of retiring," Jahni said, with a
shrug. "If I left the Army before then, I might need money." "You'd
be provided for if you were invalided out," Madari said. "And I
can't see you leaving for any other reason." His smile at Jahni was a
nervous one, trying to lighten the mood, fearing Jahni's serious mood,
fearing how closely their words skirted difficult subjects. "Can't
you?" Jahni said. Despite the softness of his voice, it held a
challenge. Madari flushed and hoped the darkness hid the rush of colour to
his face. "Between your money and mine..." Jahni said, and trailed
off. Enough to
live on, he meant, Madari knew. Perhaps at home, perhaps abroad. A simple
lifestyle perhaps, no lavish home. But together... "I
think you should get some rest," Madari said, cutting off the subject.
No choice but to do so. They were already literally in dangerous territory. Foolish
to go there metaphorically too. ~~~~ They had
discarded the robes now, left the horses behind and were slipping through the shadows. Silence too
concealed them. This close to the enemy camp they had adopted radio silence
and restricted themselves to long-memorised hand signals to communicate.
Sound bounced from the rocks here in the mountains, travelled through chasms
and cracks. Jahni
followed their guides, Madari close behind him and the men strung out in a
line beyond that. They had a fair idea of the layout of the camp from the
intel Halais had given them and every man carried copies of the maps, but
they knew little of the terrain immediately beyond the perimeter of the enemy
camp. Jahni wanted his men to come in from all sides at once, and hoped there
was more cover than darkness for them. Despite
the cold, Jahni's blood sang with excitement. His mouth was dry with the fear
he still felt every time he prepared to fight, but that he had long ago learnt
to control. He wanted to laugh as he recalled what he'd said earlier to
Madari. Leave the Army? For any reason but injury or retirement? What an
absurd idea. He knew
what he'd been thinking, that they could make a life together somewhere,
probably abroad. But that was mere fantasy, brought on by the sudden
appearance of his inheritance. He was unsettled that was all. This –
soldiering - was his life. This was what he lived for. The
guides gestured and one turned back as they stopped. He pressed a finger to
his lips and pointed. It lay
ahead of them, the enemy camp. Dark shapes of small buildings, nestled into a
depression in the ground. No lights, or fires. No sign of movement. The men
all knew their roles and Jahni glanced at Madari for confirmation to begin.
It bothered him that Madari was so close to the action here. He'd wanted to
leave him further back down the trail, but Madari wouldn't hear of it. He had
to coordinate, he said, and could hardly do so if he couldn't see. Madari
mouthed the word "Go" and picked up his night vision binoculars. At
Jahni's signal the rest of the men pulled night vision goggles over their
eyes. Starlight had been enough for
most of the men to make their way along the trail, leaving off the heavy and
uncomfortable goggles for as long as possible, but now they needed to see as
if it were day. They
moved out, surrounding the enemy camp, moving silently. With radio silence
they had to rely on timing to co-ordinate the action. They had ten minutes to
move into place and then the action would begin. "I
don't see any movement at all," Madari said quietly, watching the camp,
speaking to Jahni, who stood ready to move out as the last of the groups
left, leaving only Jahni's group. "But be careful." Jahni
rolled his eyes and spoke quietly. "Careful? We're making a raid on an
enemy base. If we were careful, we'd be back home hiding under our
beds." "You
know what I mean," Madari said. "And don't be insubordinate." "What
are you going to do? Set your new friend the Pope onto me?" Madari
clicked his tongue in irritation at that. The banter calmed Jahni though. Not
to the point of relaxation and complacency, but it pushed the fear a little
further away. "Okay,
time." Jahni signalled his men and they moved off among the rocks,
towards their positions. One last look at Madari, and a wink. "Say a
Hail Mary for us." ~~~~ Madari
did pray. Not a Hail Mary, but still, he murmured a short prayer as he always
did when he sent men into action. The two men who remained with him made no
remark about their commander's whispering. Perhaps they were praying too. He
glanced at his watch, pressing in the button to make the face glow. Almost
time. The minute hand crept onwards and he heard the first explosion, gasped
and looked for it. A flashbang, tossed into a building. Other men would use
smoke grenades, all in the cause of taking as many prisoners as they could
without a fight. But there'd soon be gunshots. He knew that. More
grenades exploded. Madari saw his men moving in, dark shapes, frighteningly
insectile, with their goggles and gas masks. But... something was wrong. "Sir,"
one of his guards said, also looking down into the camp. "Sir, shouldn't
they be shooting back by now?" Yes, the
enemy should indeed have reacted. They should be rushing from their beds,
either in panic, or ready to fight for their lives. But Madari saw none of
that. Unless they were already cowed enough that they were refusing to emerge
from the huts... but nobody stayed in an enclosed space with a smoke grenade
when there was a way out. Damn.
Damn! He lifted his radio, the need for radio silence over. "L4,"
Jahni's call sign tonight. "Report." ~~~~ Jahni's
back slammed up against a rock as he turned from the blast of a stun grenade
into one of the small houses. He leaned back against the rock face as
Madari's voice came through his helmet radio. "L4.
Report." "No
opposition so far," Jahni reported. The men had run into houses they'd sent
grenades into when nobody came out and so far nobody had fired a shot,
because nobody had found anyone to shoot at. "We're checking every
building. They could be hiding." "Get
men around the perimeter," Madari snapped. Jahni understood why,
suddenly fearing the enemy could have retreated to the rocks around the camp
and were just waiting to start firing on his men. "And don't show any
lights!" "Aye,
sir." He snapped orders into his radio to the men. No lights for sure.
Don't give anyone an easy target. With their night vision equipment they
needed no lights and had to use that advantage. Despite that, his back itched
at the thought a sniper could be targeting him right that second. Control that fear. He'd felt it
before, in battles when the enemy were all around and you might never see the
man who killed you. He strode
off to the centre of the camp, where a fire team was securing the largest
building. By the time he arrived, they were coming out, shaking their heads
and reporting no opposition. The men on the perimeter searching the rocks
also reported back with no sign of ambush. Twenty
minutes after they entered the camp, Jahni radioed Madari with what they'd
all guessed ten minutes ago. "It's
deserted. They're gone." ~~~~ The sun was
peeking over the mountain as Madari picked his way down a rocky track into
the camp. Jahni had insisted he stay outside until they'd completed a
thorough search. But after an hour, had called back to confirm that the camp
was indeed entirely deserted. "It
looks like they pulled out," Jahni said, leading him towards one of the
small houses. "The place is cleaned out. No weapons anywhere, they
obviously took those with them." They
approached a hut that a man guarded, still wearing his gas mask. That surprised
Madari until the breeze shifted and he caught a smell of putrefaction. It
stopped him in his tracks, involuntarily and he felt a wave of nausea. The
loud buzzing of flies came on the breeze too. "A
body?" "No,"
Jahni said, "well not human. Goats and a couple of sheep. Just remains,
heads and..." He stopped, looking at Madari's face. "Live animals
would be too much trouble to take away with them, so they butchered them for
the meat and took that for their journey." Madari
nodded, deciding he didn't need to see the remains, he'd accept Jahni's
assessment. "And had no time or no inclination to clean up what was
left." "Looks
that way." "How
long ago would you say they left?" "Going
by the rate of decay in there." He nodded at the hut. "At least three
days." The breeze shifted again, carrying a fresh waft of the stench and
Madari walked away, fearing he was about to see his last meal again. Jahni
followed. "Okay,
get that cleaned up," Madari said. "Bury or burn the remains. But
don't touch anything else. We may have no prisoners to show for this, but
there could be a treasure house of intelligence here." Just
looking around now gave him some. The neatness of the camp, with no garbage
strewn about. The latrines and washing facilities as well set up as you'd
find on any military camp. It had been an orderly withdrawal. All this told
Madari that they were not dealing with amateurs here, but with men who'd
planned and learnt exactly how to do this. "Sir,"
Lieutenant Raian approached them. "There's something you need to
see." He didn't
elaborate, just turned away and led them to a hut. Madari expected him to
take them inside, but instead he lifted his flashlight to show them something
painted on the wood beside the door. Words. No, not words. A name. A name
Madari had seen before. Saifullah. Sword of
God. The man -
and he felt sure now that it was a man and not the name of a group - who had
sent an assassin to kill him in his own bed. An assassin who'd failed, but
whose leader was still out there somewhere. And perhaps had been here. "Captain,"
he said to Jahni. "I just want to repeat what I said before. Nobody
touch anything else. I want a team up here from Military Intelligence. I
don't only want this place searched, I want it treated as a crime scene.
Fingerprints taken." He glanced around at the shapes of his men moving
around in the dawn light. "Let's try not to leave too many of ours
here." |
© E Charles 2009