Candleburn Read Online Free PDF Page A

outside air, almost clinging to the metal of the car like a musty, greying fog.
    At least his cigarette disguised the stink.
    Police presence here was light to non-existent. Rents were low. All these factors made the area one of the few in the emirate perfect as a home for a group like Euphoric.
    Zain lifted his sunglasses slightly to get a better look at the four men who’d emerged from a hostel doorway and were now patrolling the shop fronts. Sudanese or Eritrean by the looks of them. Interesting. Much of the Euphoric syndicate’s membership were made up of Thais, Indonesians and Filipinos. Curious that they should have expanded their foot-soldiers to include those from Arabic-speaking Africa.
    The nature of crime in Dubai fascinated Zain. It was a fantastic place in so many ways. For the average inhabitant it was one of the safest cities in the world.
    In the summer a car with the engine switched off quickly heats up like a furnace. It actually cost more money to turn your engine off while you go inside a supermarket than to leave your engine on with the air conditioning running.
    So, drive to any Choiterhams or Spinney’s superstore and the front row of the car park was full of empty vehicles left with the keys in the ignition and the motors idling.
    It made sense.
    Fuel was cheap. $30 filled even the largest tank to the brim. With the engine on, the car stayed cool and it was more economical. The fascinating thing was that no-one ever stole them. What fool would risk being caught and subjected to Dubai’s notoriously harsh penal system?
    Similarly, you could take out your wallet in any shopping mall, drop it in the middle of the floor and walk off. Come back thirty minutes later and it would still be there, exactly as you’d left it, untouched. In fact, it was strange how quickly your brain adapted to the raw safety of Dubai. If you came back and found your wallet gone – you’d feel aggrieved.
    There was no doubt in Zain’s mind that Dubai was the safest city in the world. Of course, there was crime. Much of it was organised by three well-established syndicates.
    The biggest component was prostitution. Dubai was an international business hub, and what lubricates transactions more efficiently than sex? Most of that was split out by nationality.
    The Russian syndicate, Belyy Volk, the White Wolves, controlled the market’s high-end – mostly East European girls. Beneath them, Euphoric had a firm grip on the mid-tier market – professionals brought in to service Dubai’s indigenous bankers and Western expat men who played away whenever their wives were on holiday.
    Beneath these, t he Indian gang, a group called Onyx, had a ruthless grasp of the low end stuff – servicing the needs of Dubai’s forgotten caste: the labourers. That meant girls brought in on the expectation they’d be maids or au pairs, and women kidnapped from sub-Saharan Africa.
    All the organizations indulged in other criminal activities – from drugs to gambling to bootlegging and counterfeit goods – but they were careful to treat Dubai only as a trading hub.
    It was strictly import-export; a base from which to operate.
    Sure, the authorities looked the other way when it came to prostitution because that cemented the city’s reputation as a regional capital, but bringing other business ashore was a risk few were stupid enough to take.
    There was a flash behind the car, Mehr realised he’d drifted off into daydreaming.
    He heard the screaming battle cry and glanced in the rear view mirror once more.
    “Shit, shit, shit,” he yelled switching on the car’s engine.
    A tall Algerian was sprinting towards them with a full-drawn samurai sword.

 
    8
     
    “Guys?” Blake said uncertainly. “I’m logged into the main network and I can’t find my folder?”
    Alice wearily raised her eyes to heaven.
    “What folder?”
    “These laptops only have limited memory. Video footage takes up a lot of space. I created a folder on the system