35

Hamadi oil complex

Present day

Powerful spotlights illuminated an excavation the size of a swimming pool. A silver-haired man in a linen suit and gray tie was sitting on a stack of cinderblocks and smoking a cigarillo. He watched them come in.

“Hamid. What a pleasure to see you again,” the man said, standing up and embracing the Kuwaiti. “Welcome, my friend.”

“Salaam alaikum,” the Kuwaiti answered. “May Allah spread his goodness to your dear Lebanon.”

“My home country can always use it. Aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” The man eyed Winthrop with suspicion.

“Samir, this is John Bush, a friend and an English investor,” Hamid said, setting down his case.

The Lebanese man raised his arm, and two men with FN P90 submachine guns appeared from behind a pile of sheet metal. Winthop was taken aback. Those weapons were usually used by special forces. They could tear up a man in a bullet-proof vest.

“Don’t take it as a sign of disrespect, Mister… Um, Bush, but your tailor didn’t provide you with pockets big enough for large-caliber weapons. If you would kindly hand your toy over to my men, we would all feel more trusting.”

Jack Winthrop said nothing. He put his weapon on the floor and took three steps back. He had expected this kind of reception. One of the strongmen picked up his gun, and the Lebanese man smiled.

“Perfect. The gold is in the crates over there. Can I see the money, my dear Hamid?”

The Kuwaiti handed over the large bag and walked over to the three crates.

“May I?”

“What is mine is yours, my friend,” the Lebanese man said, pulling out rolls of five-hundred-euro bills from the Kuwaiti’s bag and setting them on the stack of cinderblocks next to him.

Winthrop watched as the two men counted their booty, one in paper bills, and the other in gold. He lit a cigarette. How many times had he carried out this kind of assignment for Aurora Source? He felt the sweat trickle down his calf, where his Walther P99 was strapped.

The two men finished counting. The Lebanese man signaled his stooges to load the crates into the SUV. Winthrop perked his ears. Dull sounds were coming from the back of the hangar. Samir caught him looking in that direction and pursed his lips. An alarm went off in the ex-Marine’s head.

“I forgot one detail,” Samir said.

“What’s that?” Winthrop said, squatting to tie a shoelace.

“Come see for yourself while Hamid supervises the loading.” Samir pointed to the source of the noise.

“No thanks,” Winthrop said, stiffening.

Before the strongmen could react, Winthrop had his P99 against Samir’s head. “Hands up. I don’t like last-minute changes. It disrupts my calm.”

The men had their automatic weapons aimed at Winthrop.

“One signal from me, and my guards will shred you to pieces, friend,” Samir said.

“Maybe, but I’ll blow your brains out first,” Winthop answered, grinning.

Samir wasn’t even sweating. Maybe this wasn’t a new thing for him.

The Kuwaiti had pulled back.

“Don’t worry. Hamid has a lot of connections in this country. If something happens to him, I’ll have trouble. The transaction is all fine. I just wanted to introduce you to someone. My men will lower their weapons as a sign of good faith. Come with me.”

The strongmen obeyed. Winthrop followed the man in the suit, keeping his gun on him at all times. Behind a pile of gravel, he saw a gray tarp and the form of a person underneath it. When the form moaned, Samir picked up the canvas and threw it aside, revealing a bound and gagged man. His left eye was hanging by a bloody filament.

“That’s Omar, the man who found the gold bars they’re loading into your SUV. We thought he was working for your organization. But we were duped. The trickster made a deal with a Syrian to intercept you on your way back to Kuwait City. They planned to execute you and get the gold back. I would have been held responsible. Not very polite, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” Winthrop said, looking at the man. He lowered his weapon.

Samir squatted and caressed the man’s forehead. “Omar will be a good boy while Samir sees his guests out. Then nice Samir will take care of evil Omar’s second eye. Our business together is finished, Mr. Winthrop. It was a pleasure.”

Winthop turned around and joined Hamid at the exit.

Three minutes later, the two men were back in the SUV, weighed down with three crates of gold. Just before slamming the door, Winthrop heard a shriek from the hangar.

Samir tapped the driver’s-side window. “My men have started giving Omar his lesson. I told them to wait. But these young ones have no patience. You know the Druze proverb: ‘The wait increases the pleasure tenfold.’ Safe travels, my friends.”