Wrath & Righteousnes Episodes 01 to 05 Read Online Free PDF

calm. He was a dead man anyway, he might as well go in a sudden explosion instead of being tortured to death. If he tried to hide they would find him, they had already proven that. He had a debt. They wanted payment. It was simple as that. So he had agreed he would do this so he could go without feeling pain. In return, they would take care of his daughter and the debt would be satisfied.
    He sighed again sadly, then turned away from the receding taillights of the car.
    At exactly 9:15 p.m., the guard turned and walked toward the embassy door.
    * * *
    The SUV was two miles away and driving down L’Infante Boulevard when al-Rahman saw the flash of orange light behind him. He didn’t hear the explosion or feel its expanding concussion, but the flash and rising fireball was strong enough to light up the night.

TWO
    Two days later, the old man and Prince al-Rahman sat together at a small café on a narrow and crowded sidewalk in the Place du Casino. The golden square of Monte Carlo sparkled around them, a sensory overload of beautiful sights, smells, and sounds. Both men had checked into the Hotel Hermitage the night before and were rested and comfortable in the morning air. They wore summer suits and dark shirts and they smoked as they talked. Native peace lilies, roses, and daisies created a natural bouquet around them and the air was heavy and warm with the smell blooming flowers. It was a lovely spring day and the flower shops, boutiques, art galleries and small cafés bustled with tourists, most of them overweight working stiffs from the continent and United States who had come to bask vicariously in the reflected glory of the young and beautiful. A few locals hurried through the crowd on their way to their minimum wage jobs that couldn’t buy them a closet in the city, let alone an apartment or small home. Because it was Monte Carlo there was constant wealth on display, and the prince and the old man mingled comfortably with the ostentatious crowd.
    More than a dozen security men subtly worked the sidewalks and streets, some of them Prince al-Rahman’s, some of them belonging to the old man. The two sat at a small table on the sidewalk near a flowing fountain. For almost three hours they sipped French coffee and nibbled tiny pastries, deep in conversation. The old man did most of the talking. Prince al-Rahman sat straight, his eyes intense, sometimes incredulous, sometimes unbelieving. Yet, despite his eyes, he smirked constantly.
    Al-Rahman had made a good decision. The old man had a plan. Just hearing his ideas was worth the “small” price of the blood on al-Rahman’s hands.
    “You will be responsible to liaison with our Pakistani agent,” the old man gave his final instructions. “We have planted the seed, but it will be your responsibility to nourish it and bring it along. It will take several years of your undivided attention. We will take care of the security, but the rest will be up to you.”
    “And the objective?” al-Rahman asked. The old man had been talking around it for hours now and the prince was growing impatient.
    The old man smiled smugly. They had finally arrived. It was time that the prince knew. The old man leaned across the table and whispered the objective, his breath dry and foul.
    The Saudi prince listened, then pushed away from the table, his mouth hanging open, his eyes smoldering. “Impossible!” he sneered. “Do you think you are the first ones to try this? It has been tried many times before. All of them failed. And you will fail, too.”
    The old man snapped angrily back in his chair. “Are you stupid?” he asked, like irritated father scolding his child. “Haven’t you been listening? Haven’t you heard anything ?!”
    Al-Rahman slowly nodded. “I have heard every word.”
    “Then how can you doubt us?”
    “I don’t doubt you, my friend.”
    “Of course you doubt me. Isn’t that what you just said? Have I completely misjudged you? Haven’t you heard