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with rage at the thought of his father’s torture. Running away from home, he turned to the only organization in the region that promised to help him get the revenge he so desperately wanted on his father’s killers. The Arab Liberated Hegemony transcended all geographical boundaries. Fueled by the radical Jihad sweeping the Middle Eastern countries like a firestorm, the ALH grew more militant and daring in their worldwide expansionism.
    They welcomed Hujr into their ranks. The assassination in the Philippines had been his first assignment for the ALH. And now he was a legend.
    So Hujr was a hero, if not an infamous one, for his role in the key assassinations that led to the downfall of the Philippine Islands. He was well-known now, and he was highly sought after.
    He continued to turn the coins through his fingers, waiting and watching for the bazaar to close. When the time finally came, he swept back his abiyeh and made his way toward the center of the village.
    He knocked at a back door, and as it opened dust swirled at his feet. A hand beckoned him inside as a grunt of recognition came from within. He was offered water and, drinking from the ibriq, thanked the servant with a nod before being escorted to the inner chamber.
    The room was large by any standard. The mortar walls were covered by patterned rugs; the ceiling hung low, and a fan lazily freshened the air around him. The room was dark to his eyes, but he recognized the Sahib ibn-Yazid —the guerilla leader—at once.
    Ghazzali abu-Hamid had not changed in the years since Hujr had first met him. He was still water-fat; too much time living the politician’s life. But when he tore himself away from the United Nations tirades, the incessant meetings with peace negotiators, and the worldwide trips, Ghazzali still commanded the admiration of his men. The force that made the ALH work was embodied in the man. Charisma oozed from him, surrounding and drowning you in its zeal. One couldn’t help but be caught up in the fervor.
    Hujr nodded to his leader and kept silent. The man sitting next to Ghazzali was a stranger. The man sat at Ghazzali’s left—the place of the superior—so the implicit respect flowed from Hujr.
    Ghazzali nodded to Hujr. “Welcome, my friend. You are well?”
    “Well enough to fight, my brother,” recited Hujr, completing the ALH pact.
    “Good.” Ghazzali twisted to a more comfortable position but did not invite Hujr to sit. Hujr stood loosely, relaxing. Ghazzali spoke to Hujr, still ignoring the stranger to his left. “We are pleased with your latest accomplishment. I take it you had no trouble getting back to Do’brai.”
    Hujr shrugged. “No more than usual. I had to hide out and take the long way home, but other than that, I’ve made it unnoticed. It has been over two years since I’ve been here; it is good to be back.”
    Ghazzali nodded. “This is my first visit here, and I, too, feel at home. I take it you’ve managed to get enough rest in the meantime?”
    “If you mean so that I can train for another mission—yes.”
    Ghazzali smiled for the first time. He motioned with his hand for Hujr to come forward. “Excellent. Then may I introduce a friend of mine.…one that both of us are going to work for. This is General Fariq Kamil.”
    Hujr kept the puzzlement from his face, but Ghazzali read the uncertainty in his eyes. Ghazzali said, “You’ve been gone from Do’brai a long time, my brother. General Kamil is better known for his position. He is the new commander of the general staff for Abd al-Rahman ibn-Muhammed ibn al-Ash’ath.”
    General Kamil spoke without expression. “I have heard of your talents. I welcome the chance to work with a fellow countryman. President Ash’ath has a proposition that will make you one of the most famous men in the world. Are you interested?”
    Hujr answered without skipping a heartbeat. “Perhaps.”

Chapter 2
    1230 ZULU: SATURDAY, 2 JUNE
    Find out where the people want to go, then