Iraq

 

Lat = 33 degrees, 19.9 minutes North

Long = 44 degrees, 25.1 minutes East

 

Ali Hussein had been busy after the Mustapha hit.

Shakira had spoken to him over the phone and had given him the responsibility of identifying the people responsible, he had taken a private plane out of south Yemen to Kuwait and then picked up a commercial flight to Saddam international airport in Iraq.

Shakira had suggested he make discreet enquiries in Baghdad city, to determine whether the people whom had hire Mustapha to kill Sahem had carried out the hit.

The city like the people was ruled by fear of one man, Sadam Hussein. He had two sons, one in charge of the secret service and the other was in command of the feared and loyal Republican guard, obtaining information could prove difficult and could attract attention from the authorities, which was the last thing he wanted.

However Hussein had a reliable contact, which for a price would obtain the information needed.

He picked up a phone in the airport terminal and made a call, which lasted no more than thirty seconds, he was given a time and a place for the meeting, at eleven o’clock, and he had forty-five minutes to get there.

Hussein entered a taxi gave the driver the destination across town.

He arrived at the cafe with ten minutes to spare, he ordered a coffee and sat down, at exactly eleven O’clock Iqbal Mozafari walked in; he ordered a drink and joined Hussein.

“What can I do for you,” said Mozafari.

“I need information, but it has to be obtained with the utmost discretion.”

Mozafari replied, “but of course my friend, for the right price anything is possible.”

Hussein had met Mozafari five years ago in Kabul, Afghanistan. Along with a group of other mercenaries that Hussein had recruited, they had provided an armed escort, whilst Mozafari had gone into the hills near Jalalabad, to do a deal with the local drugs brotherhood for a large shipment of raw Opium, Hussein had provided this service on several occasions since then.

He explained to Mozafari about Mustapha’s execution, telling him that he was his friend and he wanted to trace the person’s responsible for killing him! He also told him that his enquiries to date had led him here to Iraq and that these enquiries, pointed to a certain group of people whom were involved in organized horse race betting on a global basis.

Mozafari sat silent for a few moments, drinking his coffee, digesting what he had just heard.

“What you ask of me could be dangerous,” replied Mozafari, “the people in question I know and have done business with them, if I do this for you the price will be high!”

Hussein paused for a moment; he needed this information at any price.

“What’s the price,” he replied.

Mozafari smiled, “in three days’ time, I will be going back to Afghanistan again, this will be my last trip as I will be retiring, the shipment to be collected is the biggest and my partner Bakhat Hassan will be coming along, your job will be to provide the usual security escort.”

“However; Hassan is not to come home, his death needs to look like an accident or a terrorist act, I will leave this up to you to engineer, upon the safe return of the shipment and myself, you will have the information you require, that’s the deal.”

“Can I presume that we will be following the usual routine, meeting you in Jalalabad collecting the shipment and flying out?”

Mozafari nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” replied Hussein, “I will get the men and transport necessary and meet you in Jalalabad.”

They shook hands and departed. Shakira was listening to Hussein on the phone explaining the deal he had made with Mozafari, “okay but I need you back here no later than eight days from now.”

He hung the phone up.

Shakira heard the sound of the helicopter firing up followed by the whopping sound of the rotary blades as they began to pick up speed.

“Time to go to work,” he remarked to himself.

Shakira stepped out of the wooden building into the sunshine; six well-armed men in combat fatigues were waiting outside.

He ran over to the helicopter, a Bell UH-1 Ns better known as a Huey, as he neared the machine he crouched down the last few yards experiencing the downward rotor wash, and climbed on board. The six men followed, behind him.

The helicopter quickly rose from the earth, creating a miniature sand storm below, the helicopter turned and headed east, flying low over the terrain.