The Storm - Cussler Clive - Страница 15

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“Aziz is a traitor,” Jinn said, his face expressionless.

“He is a man with his own interests,” Sabah counseled. “Like all men, he follows those that profit him. You would do well not to take offense personally.”

“Those who break their vows offend me personally,” Jinn said. “What excuse does he give?”

“The politics of Egypt,” Sabah said. “The military has controlled everything there for fifty years, including the most profitable businesses. But things are still in turmoil. The Muslim Brotherhood is consolidating power, and it’s dangerous for the military to support anything secular these days. Especially an outsider.”

“But our program will help them,” Jinn insisted. “It will bring life to their deserts as well as ours.”

“Yes,” Sabah said. “But they have the dam at Aswan, and the water in Lake Nasser behind it. They don’t need what we offer as much as the others do. Besides, Aziz is not a simple man. He knows the truth. You can bring the rain or you can withhold it. But if you bring it for the others who pay, it will fall on his country just the same.”

Jinn considered this. It was unavoidable. “I am more than he suspects,” Jinn insisted. “I will force his hand.”

“I warn you, Jinn, he will not turn.”

“Then I will take my revenge.”

Sabah did not seem pleased by this. “Perhaps this is not the time to make new enemies. At least until we have dealt with the Americans. You know they’ve found evidence of the horde on the damaged sailboat.”

“Yes,” Jinn said, displeased with the news. “They are now hunting for Marchetti. He is their prime suspect.”

“They will find him easily,” Sabah said. “These people from NUMA are determined. They will not hesitate to confront him.”

“Of what concern is that to us?” Jinn said. His words dripped with arrogance and self-assuredness.

Sabah did not seem pleased. “Do not underestimate them.”

Jinn tried to reassure him. “I promise you, my good and faithful servant, suspicions will not be cast our way. When they find Marchetti, they will find their end and whatever lies beyond for infidels like them. Now, on to harsher business.”

Up ahead a group of Jinn’s men stood guard around two of their own. The two sat on the ground, tied back to back, directly beside an old abandoned well. Its cavernous mouth waited, dark and gaping, surrounded by only a mud brick wall that rose less than a foot and burnished with A-frames of iron on either side that might once have supported a crossbar from which a bucket was lowered on a rope.

Their eyes looked to Jinn, filled with fear, as they should be.

“Have they admitted their failure?”

The captain of the guard shook his head. “They insist they did only as ordered.”

“You told us to attack the woman,” one of the men said. “We did as you commanded.”

“You were supposed to attack her only as a diversion to lure the man away. He was the target, you were supposed to take him if you could, not run like cowards when he chased you. And, above all else, you were not supposed to be seen. There are now descriptions of you circulating, even a photograph from a dockside security camera. Because of that, you are no good to me anymore.”

“The island is so small, we had nowhere to hide. We had to escape.”

“You admit it,” Jinn said. “You took the path of cowards, the way of ease.”

“No,” the man replied. “I swear, this was not the case. The trap did not work. The man overpowered us. We had no guns.”

“Neither did he.”

Jinn turned to Sabah. “What do you suggest?”

Sabah looked at the men, and the small crowd of Jinn’s other loyalists that had gathered around.

“They should be lashed,” Sabah said. “Covered in honey and staked to the ground. If they survive till the noon hour, they should be forgiven.”

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 well, 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.”

“You shouldn’t have missed breakfast,” Kurt replied.

“No one woke me up.”

“Believe me, we tried,” Kurt said. “Maybe you should have let me set your alarm to steam whistle mode. Or brought along a real one.”

Joe sat back. “This is terrible. I’ve gone from sleep-deprived to forced starvation. What’s next? Chinese water torture?”

Kurt knew Joe’s complaining was more a way to pass the time, though from years spent traveling with him he also knew Joe could eat like a champ and never gain a pound. With such a metabolism it was entirely possible that he might whither and fade away after a single day without food.

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