Chapter Six

“What do you mean he’s gone? Find him! Jarrah knows better than to be late for the showmanship of the army to the royal delegation,” Sheikh Juhayman bin Muhammad barked angrily. 

Hamal shifted his weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other. He opened his mouth but thought better of it, instead he pivoted to do his leader’s bidding.

Juhayman glowered at the men who stood waiting in the courtyard, in perfect formation, ready to begin their impressive routine of fighting skills. Jarrah knew how important this day was to him. The new King Abdullah bin Faisal, was looking to bring new blood in the Ministry of Defense. Since Crown Prince Khalid Saud, had been incarcerated in the United States, the entire House of Saud had fallen to pieces after the death of his father, the reigning king.

Juhayman, as a third cousin to the recently appointed king, was first in line for the esteemed honor. The council of ministers had traveled to his compound to evaluate the skills of his army. He was well aware that the delegation was going to Nadqan next. His hated cousin, Sheikh Lufti bin Qara, was equally eager to grasp the position Juhayman coveted. The rivalry between the two of them had been going on for the past fifteen years. Juhayman had no intention of allowing Lufti to take away this opportunity. King Abdullah had no siblings and the two cousins standing between Juhayman and the throne were already in their seventies; too old. Which was why he had to find favor of the king and his entourage.

“We can’t find him anywhere, Zaeim Alsahra',” Hamal said upon his return. Juhayman had earned the title of ‘Desert King’ early on when he conquered the renegade tribes and now ruled the biggest group in the nomadic tribes. Hamal stood with his eyes lowered, waiting for Juhayman’s fury to erupt. “And there’s more.”

“Talk, Hamal! You’re wasting valuable time. What’s the delay?” Juhayman paced the room, his white robe swirling around his legs. His anger was visible in the taut lines of his body as he spun around to face Hamal and Akil, Jarrah’s two leading commanders of his army.

“Bahal reported that Jarrah brought a visiting sheikh to select concubines for the night. He took twelve.” Hamal hesitated as the look in Juhayman’s eyes turned cold. “He can’t find them anywhere, nor the Sheikh Zayed bin Rashid from Dubai.”

“There is no one visiting from Dubai, Hamal! Only esteemed ministers from the king’s council!” Juhayman roared. He swiped the table clean with one fell swoop. Crystal glasses shattered to pieces on the floor.

“I never trusted Jarrah, Zaeim Alsahra’. It has to be him who took the women, with the help of . . .” Akil stuttered as Juhayman’s eyes turned to him.

His voice sounded deadly. “With the help of whom?”

“The prisoner he brought with us yesterday. We can’t find him either.” Akil took a step back as Juhayman charged closer.

“And you only tell me this now!”

“We’ve been trying to find them, Zaeim Alsahra',” Hamal tried to appease him, but it only served to anger him more.

Juhayman’s nostrils flared as his anger boiled inside him. He could see his dreams dwindle in front of his eyes. Jarrah had turned his army into a well-oiled machine, but their loyalty had been to him, not the two men in front of him. He took in a deep, calming breath.

“This is your opportunity to show what you’re made off, Hamal. The army is yours now. Make them understand that from this moment on, you are law to them. Make sure they realize that if they fuck up in front of the council members, they will face the firing squad. And you, Hamal, will be right there beside them.”

Hamal felt power surge through him. It was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. He should’ve been in charge a year ago when instead, Juhayman had been taken in by Jarrah. Now, it was his time to rise to glory.

“They will not fail, Zaeim Alsahra',” he said. He straightened his shoulders and tipped back his chin.

“Then go. You have thirty minutes to prepare them. Do not fail me, Hamal.” He turned to Akil. “In the meantime, Akil, gather a troupe and take the wolves. I want Jarrah and that bastard spy found.”

“Er . . . Zaeim Alsahra', they’re gone too,” Akil mumbled.

“They’re gone?” His voice sounded like a whip in the acoustic of the room.

“The wolves. We can’t find them either.”

Juhayman’s rage exploded like the crashing of a tsunami wave to the shore. His meaty fists pummeled Akil’s head until he fell to the ground in a bloody mess. The roar that escaped from his lips echoed over the compound like that of a trapped tiger, ready to rip apart anything and anyone in his path.

He kicked at the curled-up form of his lackey. “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t care what you need to do but find that motherfucker. Find him, Akil, or I will feed you to the pack of wolves roaming the desert!”

Juhaymal’s hands were shaking as he lifted a bottle of water to his lips and took a large swig. He struggled to bring his fury under control and started pacing the large reception room. He had to calm down before he faced the council. He wasn’t about to lose his reputation because of a traitorous bastard like Jarrah.

“He dared to steal from me. My women, my wolves and the honor I bestowed upon him. He took it all! No one makes a fool of me. No one! He’ll pay, and I won’t rest until I find him. I will skin him alive when I do. Jarrah Farooq will not escape my wrath!”

* * * * * * * *

 “You’re early today, Mr. Burgess,” the security guard said as he opened the boom gate entrance into the underground parking area of Crown International—the headquarters Paul operated from under this assumed name. He’d appointed a very competent CEO, a managing director and a senior management team to run the day to day operations of the companies which allowed him some leeway with his time.

“Yes, it’s a busy day,” he retorted with a brief nod. He usually only arrived in the late afternoon but today, he needed to get out of the stifling government office. He drove to his allocated parking bay and eased the luxurious car to a stop. His sigh sounded heavy in the interior of the car. He was tired. Keeping up with his duties in the presidential office, and running his business, which was imperative if he wanted to maintain his cover as the ‘Bossam’ of the Sixth Order Syndicate, was taking its toll on him.

The time was approaching for him to make a decision. It was either his position in the presidential office or the Sixth Order. But, before he could take the plunge and walk away from a very high-powered position, he needed to have control of Sixth Order. No, he wanted Dexter Powell and Mr. Z to offer him the third seat as leaders of the syndicate.

He switched off the engine at the same time the cellphone in his jacket pocket vibrated. Dexter Powell’s name flashed across the screen. Paul frowned. It was uncommon for Dexter to phone outside of their usual scheduled timelines.

“Burgess,” he said shortly.

“We have a problem,” Dexter opened without preamble.

“I’m listening.”

“Someone is interfering in our sex trafficking setup in Saudi Arabia.”

“Again? I thought with the Saud’s capture everything was under control.”

“They weren’t our only customers in Riyadh, Burgess, as you well know. It seems that some of the women who had been bought for the desert sheikhs have managed to escape.”

“Who informed you of that?”

“No one, Burgess, but I keep my ear to the ground, which is what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“I’ve heard nothing, nor has there been anything in the media about rescued women returning to the States, which means it might have been a covert op that was kept very quiet . . . or a private one . . .” He pondered aloud, his mind swirling with thoughts. His stomach roiled as one possibility rushed to the surface.

“Either is likely. Thirteen women returned to the US. They’re kept somewhere in a safe house, but we’ve been unable to find out where. I imagine that’s why it’s being kept under wraps from the media.”

“How does it affect us?” Paul asked.

“Apparently, Sheikh Juhayman bin Mohammed, who is the top candidate for the Ministry of Defense position there, is furious about the loss. He demands retribution, especially against the commander of his army, who seemed to have been involved in their escape.”

“So, he wants us to find the commander?”

“Yes, and if the slaves are still with him, return them as well. Riyadh has been very lucrative vein for our trafficking business, Burgess, therefore we will find the commander who assisted in their escape. I’ve sent you an encrypted folder with all the details. Jarrah Farooq is the commander’s name. There’s also a report of unauthorized aircrafts in the area on the night of their disappearance, which indicates that he had outside assistance as well. It’s all in the file. I expect a progress report in two days’ time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll―”

Dexter cut the connection. Paul cursed. It was a direct snub. Dexter had given the instruction and whether or not Paul liked it, Dexter expected him to jump at it—no explanation. He was still only a game piece to them―a resource, which caused anger to simmer under the surface. He needed more. It was time that his commitment was acknowledged and rewarded.

He took out his iPad from his briefcase and searched the home affairs database. Nothing popped up about rescued human trafficking victims. Neither did the FBI and CIA searches.

“I won’t be surprised if Rhone Greer and his interfering friends were involved. I’m going to have to dig deep,” his voice turned hoarse. He would have to be very careful in his quest for information. This was one case that could very easily blow his cover if he pushed the wrong buttons.

The thought that had flashed through his mind earlier came back to haunt him. He had taken a huge risk a year ago and a little voice warned him that it just might have come full circle.