Death Drones

by Christopher Fox

  He was correct in that Omar, Kadar and the others were being questioned and, mostly, all steadfastly refused to offer any information, even to verify things already known. Not that Josh or Gordon expected to get any useful information out of them, anyway. It was early days and their bravado would hold for a while yet. Eventually their resolve weakens and at some point, someone elects to talk. Then they play one against the other, offering deals to those who offer information. It was a game at which interrogators were much more experienced than the ones being interrogated. Most of the terrorists were American citizens, so they will be incarcerated in US prisons. Mohammad and Basim, being aliens, will be sent eventually to Guantanamo Bay.

  * * * *

  Guantanamo Bay, referred to as Git Bay or Gitmo, is a constitutional facility. In Article I, Section 8 of the United States Constitution, Congress is given the authority to ‘make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water.’ Therefore, the creation of a military prison off of the shore of the United States for the purpose of imprisoning enemy combatants is absolutely allowed from a constitutional point of view. Water-boarding is allowed, suspending Habeas Corpus is allowed, and detaining those prisoners without due process is allowed because they are enemy combatants captured during a wartime scenario, or as enemies of the United States, while acting in a manner as persons who are not members of our society, or citizens of the United States—and as the constitutional clause says, it is up to Congress regarding the ‘Rules concerning captures’. Enemy combatants who are members of an enemy force are not protected by the privileges and immunities given to Americans by the United States Constitution. It was opened under President George W. Bush to hold and interrogate people suspected of links to al-Qaeda and the Taliban in the wake of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. President Barrack Obama deemed it an unnecessary stain on the country’s global image and sought to shut it down. He couldn’t because his administration did not want to release some of the men, and Congress barred the transfer of any prisoner to U.S. facilities. Obama reduced the population from 242 to 41 before leaving office.

  Shrouded in many claims of illegal torture and interrogation techniques, the facility has been constantly bombarded by US government officials, media and international organisations, making it the centre of focus of global rights groups. Much of the 45-square-mile facility is classified Top Secret, and very little factual information is able to be obtained. Donald Trump, during his campaign for President, cited that he would keep the detention centre open and ‘load it up with some bad dudes’, and since coming to office, has drafted an Executive Order saying the administration would keep the base open ‘as a critical tool in the fight against international radical Islamist groups.’ Since the prison at its height in 2003 held 680 prisoners, it would be hard to “load up” the facility with “bad dudes”.

  * * * *

  Two weeks later the team met at Julio’s in San José. Miguel had recovered fully and was considered being free of any traces of Sarin. When Miguel arrived early at the restaurant, only Maria was there, so he occupied a seat in the booth opposite her after giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

  “Nice to see you again,” he said.

  “It’s great to see you up and around,” she replied. “That was quite an ordeal you went through.”

  “Sure was—not sure I would want to go through it again.”

  They looked at each other for a while, not knowing really what to say. Maria realized he still struggled with the loss of Anna and Enrique.

  “I guess the realities of things settle in once the excitement dies down,” she said.

  Miguel looked up at nothing in particular and said: “Yeah, I guess it does.”

  “I think the worse thing about something as final as death is that there’s nothing you can do about it. If the death was someone’s fault, you could try to avenge it and maybe get some satisfaction out of that, but in this case …” she trailed off.

  Miguel did not respond.

  “You may not be aware, but I was raped in university. I never felt so violated and it took me a while to adjust to the reality of it. I wanted to kill the bastards that did it, but more than that, I wanted them to suffer. Even though it wouldn’t erase the rape, the restitution would make me feel better about it.”

  “So you cut off their balls.”

  Maria smiled and said: “Yes, I cut off their balls. That may seem a little Draconian, but it somehow made me feel better. At least, they likely won’t be raping anyone else.”

  “Remind me not to piss you off,” Miguel said and managed a smile.

  Maria chuckled while she was thinking of what else to say.

  “Have you considered grief counselling?”

  “I did that when Casey was killed, and it helped. But now I know how to handle it and just have to deal with it.”

  “Life can be a bitch sometimes when we get dealt a bad hand, but if it’s the only hand we have, we have to play it. To me, it was all about positive thinking that got me through the trauma. I realized that I wasn’t the same person, nor will I ever be the same person I was before the rape. Although I am not negative toward men, they represent a hurt that resides deep down inside me. I just have to remember that most men are not like that, but be wary of those that might be. It means a little more distrust until I get to know them.”

  “So,” Miguel said. “No one serious in your life?”

  Maria laughed. “No. No there isn’t. And I am not seeking anyone. I am not the settling down type and don’t feel maternal in any way—can’t imagine having a kid to look after. I don’t see myself with a 3-bedroom home and a nine-to-five job with a car in the yard and a loving husband doting on me.”

  “Sometimes it’s nice to have companionship and intimacy now and again.”

  “True, but if I wanted sex, I could get it anywhere. That is not usually a problem for women, anyway. But to me, sex without a connection is meaningless, and I am just reluctant to allow a connection to develop. I had a boyfriend earlier in university but I found it hampered my studies, so I broke up with him. As for a companion? My life is fulfilling enough without the need to share it with someone else.”

  Of course, Miguel well knew the fact that men needed nurturing more so than women, and that women can survive better on their own than their male counterparts. For companionship, many women will just get a dog .

  Jimmy arrived next.

  “Hey buddy,” he said to Miguel. “How are you feeling? You’re looking great.”

  “I’m fine,” Miguel said as Jimmy pecked Maria on the cheek and sat down beside her.

  “So, what are you guys doing now this is over?” said Jimmy.

  “I think I will go back to my dive and fishing charters—a lot less drama,” said Miguel.

  “Frederico has some other projects,” said Maria, “but I may go home for a while. Haven’t seen my parents in years. How about you?”

  “Freddy has a few projects for me,” Jimmy offered. “I was finishing a couple up when this broke loose.”

  Alex arrived at the restaurant and joined the group, sitting next to Miguel. Jimmy asked him the same question.

  “Not sure,” said Alex. “My sister keeps inviting me down to Panama to stay with her and her husband. Maybe take her up on it, but they have a 3-year-old and that kinda puts me off.”

  “Good training for when you have your own,” said Maria. “How’s it going with Sarah?”

  “It’s going well. No long-term plans yet. We don’t see each other very often, what with our schedules.”

  “What does she do?” asked Jimmy.

  “She is a director for an insurance group with headquarters in Houston, Texas and travels there a lot.”

  “No shit!” said Jimmy. “Did you see her when we were there?”

  “Sure did,” he said with a wry smile.

  Alberto was the last to arrive and joined the others.

  “We were just discussing what is next on our agenda,” said Jimmy.


  “Oh, I have lots to do back at the office. I’ve had several meetings with Frederico so far about new projects.”

  “Anyone for pizza?” asked Miguel.

  “Sure,” said Jimmy. “Are you paying?”

  “Sure. As long as you buy the beer.”

  “Count me in then,” said Alberto.

  “Me too,” said Alex

  “Just as long as there're no anchovies,” said Maria .

  They ordered the beer and pizzas and enjoyed sharing stories. Little did they know that soon they would all be together again in a new adventure.

  The End

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  Following is an excerpt from the next book in the series, The Korean Connection.

  A rogue general; a rogue state; a nuclear threat.

  Miguel and his team are retained by a UAE sheikh to recover his kidnapped son, before he has to pay a $35m ransom. The son is released unharmed, however, the sheikh wants the team to find out more about the kidnapper, and tells Miguel to keep the meter running.

  Investigations lead them to a rogue general in North Korea, who used the money to finance a sinister plot to unleash havoc in the region with a nuclear threat.

  As tensions run high between the U.S., China and the DPRK, Miguel must stop the general before he executes his plan that could destabilize the Pacific.

  Excerpt from

  The Korean Connection

  ONE

  Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates (UAE), April 2018

  Miguel looked into the eyes of his opponent and knew he was in serious trouble. The man’s stoic face betrayed nothing as he sat across from him waiting for Miguel’s move, casually holding the object of Miguel’s demise in his hands. His team had been systematically eliminated; first Alberto, then Maria and finally Alex. He was the only one left. He should have backed out when he could; when he had a chance; but he didn’t. Now it was too late—he had to see it through. A bead of sweat glistened on his forehead as he summed up the situation. He couldn’t see a way out; somehow he knew this is it. He could not win, and his opponent, Fayad al Musan, somehow knew it; knew he had the upper hand. Miguel moved forward in the chair, trying to disguise his nervousness, not taking his eyes off Fayad, who now wore a smirk on his face. He knows. He knows he’s in the driver’s seat . He knows he has me beaten.

  It’s now or never , Miguel thought. I have to make my move .

  “Call,” said Miguel.

  Fayad laid his cards on the table.

  “Three kings,” he said triumphantly.

  “Damn,” said Miguel as he slammed his two pair of queens over tens on the table. “That’s four hands in a row.”

  “My lucky day,” said Fayed as he raked in the pile of coins on the table, amounting to less than $5.

  “Another round?” said Miguel. “Sometime, your luck’s gonna run out. ”

  “Sure,” replied Fayad, scanning the table for the other players’ acknowledgements. Alberto, Maria and Alex tossed in their quarter, followed by Miguel and Fayad.

  The door flew open. A man, dressed in the traditional thawb, burst in and scurried over to Fayad, whispering in his ear. Fayad’s face took on a look of surprise as he listened to his aid.

  “Looks like our quarry is on the move,” he said as he got up from the table. “Let’s go.”

  The sounds of multiple chair legs scraping on the tiled floor permeated the space as Miguel and his team got to their feet, grabbed their satchels and followed Fayed out the door.

  “So, what’s the scoop?” asked Miguel.

  “We believe he’s heading to Dubai for the transaction,” said Fayed. “My aid’s brother, Emil, says he’s driving a white Toyota Land Cruiser and he is tailing him now.”

  They entered the elevator and the cab swiftly descended to the parking level. The doors opened and Fayed led them to the Land Rover Discovery HSE that was already running with his aid holding the door open for Fayed. Miguel hopped into the passenger seat while the other three team members squeezed into the rear seat, Alberto and Alex flanking Maria. Fayed crushed the accelerator, and the vehicle leaped forward, causing squeals from the tyres on the acrylic floor coating. They emerged into the blinding afternoon sun, reflecting from the glass facade of the Etihad Towers across the street, as both Fayed and Miguel donned their sunglasses and pulled down the SUV’s sun shades. Fayed turned right onto Corniche Road and when he reached the traffic circle, traversed it until he was heading north-east in the opposite direction toward Highway E10. Fayed punched the voice button on the steering wheel and said, “Emil.” The disembodied voice said calling Emil .

  “Emil,” the voice came through the vehicle’s speakers.

  “Fayed. Where are you now?”

  “Heading toward E12. I am three cars back from the Toyota, crawling through traffic.”

  “OK, we have just left the hotel and will catch up with you soon. Do you have a plate number in case we lose him?”

  “Sure do.” Emil recited the number.

  “Thanks,” said Fayed as he pressed the end button.

  Miguel jotted down the number on a receipt he pulled out of his wallet as they made their way through the crowded street, Fayed passing cars where he could to the sound of angry motorists’ horns. They reached the E12, known as the Sheikh Khalifa Bin Sayed Highway, and turned north-east onto the four-lane thoroughfare. It was easier now for Fayed to make up time and catch up with Emil, using his horn and flashing headlamps to get drivers from hogging the outside lane. Before long, Fayed recognised Emil’s blue Camry and pulled in front of him. He saw the white Land Cruiser three cars ahead and stayed in his lane. The highway turned east and passed by the iconic red roof structure of Ferrari World, a theme park boasting some of the fastest roller coaster rides in the world, then turned onto the E10, heading north-east again. Occasionally, the SUV changed lanes and back again after passing a slower vehicle. Fayad maintained the number of cars between him and the Land Cruiser because there were few turnoffs and little likelihood of losing him. As suspected, the Land Cruiser turned onto the E11, Sheikh Maktoum Bin Rashid Road, which led to Dubai.

  “He’s slowing and pulling off,” Miguel advised Fayad.

  “Where the hell is he going?” said Alberto from the back seat.

  “I’ll drive past and pull over down the road. Keep your eye on him,” said Fayad.

  The phone rang and the dash display showed Emil was calling.

  “Yes Emil,” Fayad said after he punched the talk button.

  “Do you want me to follow him?” said Emil.

  “No, we’re pulling over to see where he goes. He may have made the tail.”

  The Land Cruiser pulled off the highway onto the sand and drove to the top of the dune, then disappeared over it. Fayad slammed the Land Rover into reverse, backed up to where the Toyota had turned off and followed his trail up the dune. Everyone’s mouths dropped when they got to the top. It was one of the Dune Bashing assembly areas and there must have been twenty or more white Toyota Land Cruisers.

  “Holy cow!” said Miguel. “How are we going to find him amongst that lot?”

  “I think that’s him,” Fayad said as he pointed to one of the Land Cruisers about to disappear over a dune. He selected all-wheel drive and mashed the accelerator, tearing down the side of the dune and up the other. It was the only vehicle moving of the myriad of white Toyotas, so it had to be the target vehicle .

  “Maybe a diversion if he is in contact with one of the other vehicles,” Miguel pointed out. />
  “Maybe,” said Fayad and punched the voice command again, summoning Emil.

  “Emil.”

  “Emil, I guess he is making a run for it, but there are twenty or more Land Cruisers here. Stay put and follow him if he comes back that way.”

  “OK,” Emil said and Fayad severed the connection. They reached the top of the dune and saw the Toyota sliding down the other side of it and clambering up another, wheels throwing sand in all directions as the driver fought for any form of traction. Fayad punched the accelerator and the powerful Land Rover HSE’s engine churned up sand as it flew down the side of the dune in pursuit. Their downhill motion and the Toyota’s uphill climb caused them to gain on the vehicle. As the Toyota reached the top and faded from view, Miguel read the licence plate, comparing to the one he had written.

  “That’s him,” he said.

  “Good,” was Fayad’s reply. “Make sure your seat belts are tight,” he shouted above the roar of the straining engine.

  They reached the top of the dune as the Land Cruiser was tackling another one, this time clambering up the side, rather than tackling it head on. The vehicle seemed to stall with all four wheels churning but eventually made it to the top and ran along the crest to Fayad’s right. Fayad followed suit and tried to shorten the distance by traversing the side of the dune, but the centre of gravity of the high-riding SUV was such that the vehicle began to tip.

  “Right wheel!” Miguel shouted as he reached for the steering wheel, but too late. The Land Rover’s right-side wheels dug into the soft sand and it toppled.

  “Hang on!” shouted Fayad as the vehicle rolled onto its side, then roof and back on its wheels in the dune’s trough, engine still running.

  “Everyone OK?” Miguel said, looking around the cabin.

  “We’re fine,” came the chorus from the back.

  “No offence,” said Miguel, opening his door and getting out, “but let me drive.”

  Fayad was still shaking as he willingly handed over the reins to Miguel. They exchanged seats and Miguel selected drive, stomped on the accelerator pedal and continued the pursuit. When they reached the top of the dune, the Land Cruiser was nowhere in sight.