The Gems of Tsingy De Bemaraha

by Roger Weston

  Otto grew even more rigid. The pilot came closer with the Uzi raised. Abu Bakr raised the bone and hammered Ali Awad in the face, crushing his nose, tearing skin, shattering his pride and confidence.

  Ali screamed as he collapsed. With his hand over his nose, he struggled to his feet. The pilot grabbed his hand, twisting his arm behind his back.

  “I'm innocent!” Ali Awad screamed. “I've done nothing.”

  “If that were true, I wouldn't have been attacked in the safe house.”

  “No, you're wrong.”

  Abu Bakr lifted the big jawbone. “You’d be better off dead than where I’m sending you. Isn't that right, Otto?” Abu Bakr chuckled.

  Otto shuttered visibly, and a morose look of fear and death slid onto his face.

  “How's your limp, Otto? It's better to confess right away, isn't it?”

  Otto's head tilted down. “I pity you, Ali.”

  “You can't do this to me. I have done nothing, please!”

  Abu Bakr motioned for the helicopter pilot to take Ali away.

  Abu Bakr sneered at Otto. “You are worthless. My niece deserved better.”

  Otto winced.

  “But you did marry her. And during your stay in prison you convinced me of your loyalty. I may still promote you, but first you must prove your worth.”

  Abu Bakr saw that Otto’s bony fingers were still shaking. “You won't be seeing Ali Awad again. I could’ve died in that safe house. You're lucky I'm holding him accountable rather than you. I know you don't ever want to go back to jail, do you?”

  Otto shook his head rapidly; his bulging eyes shifted around, but kept finding the jaw bone in Abu Bakr's hand.

  “From now on you'll be working with Sheikh Saleh. He felt he was being disgraced when I told him he had to work with you.” Abu Bakr enjoyed a moment of silence to let his words have their effect. “I'll give you several men. I don’t know this American’s connection to the Mossad, but the Jews and the Americans share the same whores so it makes little difference. He’s already killed one of my men in Portugal. I want him and the woman he's with. I want the sapphire. Get your men in action quickly. I’ll have further instructions for you soon. Now get back on the helicopter and say good-bye to Ali-Awad.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Paul woke to the fresh, fragrant air of orange blossoms flowing in his open car window. He tilted his seat forward. Deep green leaves quivered stiffly in the warm breeze. He felt the uneasiness that had plagued his dreams. He knew that the tranquil peace of the orchard would soon end. He strapped on his hiking boots and took a walk among the trees. When he got back, Kelly was awake.

  She looked into the mirror on the back of the sun visor as she brushed her flowing red hair. “Do you think they’ll find us here?”

  “No,” he lied. He gestured toward her robe. “Keep the hood up on that thing. You’ll be seen a mile away in town if you don’t.”

  “Let's not go back there.”

  Paul ignored her comment and got out his Sat Phone. He called an old CIA contact.

  “Hey, Sami. How you doing?” Paul said. “Yeah, I’m in Tetouan and need to get out of here as soon as possible. Any chance you can help me out with a flight?”

  “Best I can do is tomorrow,” Sami said.

  “This is urgent.”

  Sami was silent for a minute. “Did you check the commercial flights?”

  “I need to keep a low profile, you understand?”

  “Sure. I’ll see if I can round-up a plane and call you back.”

  Ten minutes later, Paul was on the phone with him again.

  “Sorry, Paul,” he said. “Nobody’s flying you out today. The airport is closed due to a bomb threat. No aircraft can land or take-off for 24 hours.”

  Paul hung up the phone and looked at Kelly. “Airport’s closed, but if we can get to the bus station before they catch on, I think we can slip by unnoticed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, but I don’t think we have any other choice.”

  Her eyes fell until she was staring at his hands. “Okay, I’m putting my trust in you.”

  Paul looked into her smoky eyes and nodded. “Just stay with me and you’ll be fine.”

  Once back in town, Paul dropped off the rental car without incident, and then bought bus tickets to Fez. The next bus didn’t leave until noon so they had some time to kill. Paul led Kelly into the old part of the city where they spent the morning walking around a small lush park that was filled with palm trees, bushes, rock walkways and a pond. At 11:45 they headed to the terminal to catch the bus, but were informed that the bus had been delayed in the mountains and wouldn't arrive till that evening. To kill more time, Paul took Kelly from one dingy cafe to another where Kelly downed one cup of thick Arabic coffee after another and Paul vigilantly observed everyone who passed by.

  That evening, on the way back to the bus terminal, Paul saw two men gaining ground on them. He turned several corners hoping the men weren’t following them. The men continued to come up behind them until they were about twenty feet away.

  Paul grabbed Kelly’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Kelly looked back over her shoulder and down the sidewalk. She saw the two broad-shouldered men who were clearly after them.

  “What are we going to do?” she said.

  “Keep walking, don't look back.”

  They passed the park where they'd spent most of the morning when they saw another man closing in on them from across the street. In order to avoid him, Paul turned into the park. There were a few people hanging around the pond, and Paul hoped their pursuers wouldn’t make a move in public.

  Paul and Kelly lingered by the pond for a moment. As they did, the other people quickly departed, leaving them alone. The park was barely sixty yards across, and their pursuers were closing in rapidly. Paul looked for a way out. Thirty yards would take them to the top of a hill, but the rock wall at the bottom would slow them too much. The men approached them at the edge of the pond, pistols in hands. One was as big as a rhino; the other looked like he could model for a fitness magazine.

  “Keep your hands away from your pockets,” the big one said. He was dressed in black slacks, and a gray-black sweater. He had a mashed face and nose, and curly dark hair. He grinned odiously at Paul, showing a toothless mouth before he closed in and patted him down, taking Paul's wallet.

  The fitness model did the same to Kelly taking longer than necessary. Then he took her wallet and travel bag. Opening the bag, he ruffled around until he came upon the sapphire. He smiled, zipped the bag shut, and turned his attention back to Kelly. He roughly lifted her chin and leered into her brown eyes.

  Paul lunged and shoved him away. “Get your hands off her.”

  The pretty boy lifted his gun, grinning hatefully. “Get down on your knees.”

  Paul didn’t move.

  “I said, on your knees.” He waved the pistol in Paul's face.

  “No,” Paul responded. He felt the weight of Kelly's gaze upon him.

  “Then it’s time to die.”

  Paul looked at the man and smiled back at him, even though he realized that the man was serious.

  Hand muscles tensed as pretty boy’s trigger finger began to squeeze.

  From the hilltop came what sounded like someone hitting a post with a baseball bat. A dot appeared on pretty boy's forehead and red spray puffed out the back of his skull as he collapsed to the ground. More muffled shots followed. Slug's ripped through both sides of rhino guy's chest. He stumbled back as a third shot pierced his belly. He collapsed on the ground, a strange reflex quivered through his fingers as his face twitched and his eyes faded.

  Paul spun and crouched. On the hilltop, a man with a rifle rose and then disappeared behind the ridge. Paul breathed a sigh of relief then searched the corpses for their wallets and recovered Kelly’s travel bag. Then he grabbed her hand, jerking her out of shock and ran from the park. On the sidewalk, he slowed to a quick gait. From there he led Kelly
to the upper area of the city. As he did he noticed that her face was pale in spite of the heat.

  She stopped abruptly. “What do we do now?”

  “Hope the bus is there.” He touched her arm gently and led her toward the station. They passed several locals in Western dress who stared, mostly at Kelly. As they walked, Paul tried to process what had just happened. A sniper? Where did he come from? And why did he save them?

  At the large black and white tiled bus station, Paul continued his surveillance. He watched as locals shuffled through the crowded terminal: old men in kaftans, young men in t-shirts, and women in brightly colored hijabs.

  Paul headed toward a reader board marked Fez. As he walked, he felt a tug on his backpack. Startled he twisted around and saw a tall, twig-thin man with one ear and dirty bare feet.

  “I must put your bags on the bus,” he said.

  Relieved, Paul replied, “I will carry it with me.”

  “It is the rule—all bags on top of bus.” The man motioned to the big stack of luggage on the roof.

  “We'll carry ours.” Paul handed him ten dollars.

  The man howled with delight and disappeared around the bus. Paul looked around to see if Abu Bakr’s thugs were following them, but saw nothing.

  He took Kelly by the arm and led her around to the door of the bus.

  ***

  Kelly clenched her teeth as they got onto the stifling-hot bus. Despite the heat, most of the passengers wore the pointed hoods of their djellabas. A goat trotted and bucked in the aisle, upsetting a scattering of noisy chickens. The young men that dominated the back of the bus leered at Kelly. She avoided eye contact, looking out the windows as she made her way toward the first empty seat. She flushed a chicken out of a seat and sat down.

  Soon the bus driver boarded and shoved the gear shift forward. Kelly sighed with relief as the bus began to pull out of town. She took a deep breath and settled deeper into her seat. She was looking out the window when her posture stiffened.

  Devin was standing in the bus station and staring at her! He wore sunglasses but she could tell it was him. There was no mistaking it. How did he know she'd come to Tetouan? Damn him. And now he knew she was going to Fez!

  “Are you okay?” Paul said.

  Kelly smiled weakly. “I'm just glad we're on our way.”

  Paul nodded, “Me, too.” After a few minutes, the smell of burning hash drifted under his nose. He glanced back and saw the group of young men in the back of the bus passing around a joint.

  As Tetouan faded from sight and the bus headed into the high mountains on a slow, bumpy ride, the young men in the back continued to pass around joints of hashish, filling the crowded bus with haze. An hour later, police flagged down the bus. The driver pulled over and several shifty-eyed cops boarded. They randomly checked a few tickets—including Paul's and Kelly's.

  “These tickets are no good,” a cop said to them.

  “We bought them at the station,” Kelly pleaded.

  The cop narrowed his eyes. “I said they're no good.”

  Paul sighed and pulled some cash from his pocket, handing it to the cop. The cop took his bribe and moved on to the back of the bus, where the hash smokers paid him off. The police left happy, and the bus proceeded through the mountains.

  CHAPTER 16

  Lebanon

  Abu Bakr pulled his car over to the side of the dark road next to the brown Mercedes that he had recently given to the cleric Nadir Hassan as a gift. Nadir got out of the car and walked toward his benefactor. Abu Bakr greeted his long-time friend.

  “It is good to see you, Nadir. So few are faithful to our cause, but your reward shall be great.”

  “Thank you, my friend.” Nadir smiled, his fleshy cheeks bulging. Wind blew at his traditional robes.

  “Your father would be proud of you,” Abu Bakr said. “You have continued to fight against the Great Satan with your fiery words. You have led many to our cause of vengeance.”

  “Holy War must come to good. I have spoken much on this.”

  Abu Bakr felt the morphine in his veins and leaned against his car for a moment. Then he continued: “The enemy has come to fear your words. Every time you speak, the American cowards fear more will join our cause and more of theirs will die.”

  “The oppressors must be resisted. I will continue to send young men to you, Abu Bakr.”

  “No, my friend,” Abu Bakr embraced Nadir Hassan and kissed him on the cheek. “You have more important work to do now.”

  Nadir Hassan stepped back, a surprised expression on his face. His eyebrows raised, he said, “What work is this?”

  “Dying,” Abu Bakr said. He pulled out a handgun and shot Nadir Hassan in the throat, in the chest, and in the gut. Nadir Hassan hit the ground and lay on his side. His lips moved, but could not speak.

  Abu Bakr kneeled down beside him and once again kissed him on the cheek. “Your death will inspire the martyrs with holy rage, my friend.” He dragged Nadir Hassan down a ten-foot bank. At the bottom, he slipped the knife he’d used to kill the American spy, Abe al-Bitar, into the cleric’s hand. He climbed the embankment and opened the trunk of his car. Using all the strength he had he lifted Abe’s body out of trunk and pulled it down the slope, leaving it next to Nadir Hassan. Although he strained his back slightly while doing this, the morphine in his blood controlled the pain.

  Abu Bakr felt grim in knowing that he’d just lost one of his greatest allies. He hated these melancholy emotions, but he reminded himself that years of planning were paying off. His destiny was finally beginning to manifest itself. After wiping his prints and placing the gun next to Abe’s hand, Abu Bakr slipped an international driver’s license into Abe’s pocket that identified him as an American. Returning to his car, he floored the accelerator, leaving burnt rubber on the pavement. As he drove through the night, he placed a brief, anonymous call to the local television station, alerting them of the bodies along the road.

  CHAPTER 17

  Fez, Morocco

  The bus screeched to a stop in a dark sloping square surrounded by flat-topped buildings. Paul remembered his last trip to Fez, but tried to shut those thoughts out of his mind. He would do what he came here to do. He shouldered his backpack and then motioned for Kelly to get off the bus. He followed her down the aisle, scanning the open air terminal through the windows as he did so. Outside, passengers conglomerated around men who heaved bags and luggage off the roof of the bus. Paul watched the circle of travelers and the surrounding darkness intently.

  Out of the night a lanky man emerged and approached Paul. Paul’s leg muscles tensed ready for the attack.

  “Do you need a hotel?” the man asked. “I know of a nice riad down the road.”

  Kelly gave Paul a worried look.

  Paul’s calves flexed in anticipation. “Who sent you?”

  “I always meet the bus for prospects,” the man grinned.

  Paul stared at him for a moment. “Alright.” He encouraged Kelly to proceed, and they followed the man as he led them to the entrance of a small building. As they walked, Paul whispered into Kelly’s ear, “When I nod, run with me down that alley.”

  The lanky guy opened the door to the building and began to usher them in.

  Paul stopped him. “What kind of hotel is this?”

  “A fine hotel,” the man said. “I will show you the room.”

  Paul nodded and Kelly sprinted towards the alley like a gazelle in pursuit. She ran so fast that Paul had a hard time catching up with her. When he did, he had to hold her tightly to get her to stop shaking. “It was just a precaution. Don’t worry. That guy was probably fine. Come on. I know where we can stay.”

  Paul found them a pleasant spot not far from the bus terminal. He made sure that no one saw them enter the two story hotel. An agreeable man checked them in and led them upstairs. “I rarely see Westerners in djellabas,” he said. “It is nice to see that you are embracing our culture. What brings you to Fez?”

  “Adv
enture.” Paul smiled. “We like to experience new things.”

  Kelly noticed that Paul was looking at her expecting a response. She did her best to nod in agreement.

  The rooms were basic, but at least they were a step up in luxury from where they had stayed in Tetouan, Kelly thought to herself. She stood in front of the window which looked over the city square. Yeah, this was quite an adventure. She couldn’t believe that she had let Paul talk her into coming here.

  “I'll be next door if you need anything,” he said.

  She nodded. She dropped her gem-toting travel bag on the floor, and after hesitating a moment, lay down on the bed.

  In his room, Paul pulled his laptop from his backpack and checked his e-mail. He had another encrypted message from Ted Walker saying that the offer of a million dollars to “tear down the house” was still good and to let him know if Paul needed any “tools” to assist in the demolition. Paul deleted the message. He scanned the news and noticed that several more foreign prospectors had been murdered in Madagascar. What was more disturbing, though, was that it appeared that their spouses were now being targeted. What perplexed Paul was that their wives didn’t even live in Madagascar. They were scattered around the globe. Why would Abu Bakr target these harmless women? One thing that Paul knew for sure was that Abu Bakr was relentless with his army of trained killers. Paul felt like a fool. What was he thinking bringing Kelly Quinn right into the garden of Allah? Would he be able to protect her? How could he even protect himself against terrorists on their home turf? Here he was in a lawless country where he was at best an infidel, at worst a prime target. Sure he had taken care of himself in rough situations before, but who was he, after all, to go up against a hard-core terrorist organization like Abu Bakr's Unity Movement without any solid intelligence? He was on their trail and asking questions in the wrong places. He was pretty well asking to die, but the strange part was that was okay with him.

  What wasn’t okay was dragging Kelly into this. He had to protect her. He couldn’t just turn his back on her like a coward. He rubbed his forehead while he gazed out the window into the dark night. The thought of returning to violence repulsed him. He had killed men before and lived with it, but now he wanted a different kind of life, a life without violence. Unfortunately, his circumstances weren’t helping out any. Yeah, he would help Kelly, but he mustn’t fool himself. He was never going to be able to go back to Idaho and pretend like none of this had happened.