The Syndicate Spy, page 16
On the outskirts of Deera Square, the evening air breathed cooler on Juliet’s partially veiled face. With her pulse thumping wildly in her ears, she stood beside Graham and watched as a row of white-hooded prisoners were brought toward the center of the square. The crowd around them was eager, their tongues flapping wildly in Arabic as Aziz’s mercenaries pushed the four prisoners mercilessly onto their knees.
The sun was a rose-gold disc that slid into the horizon and cast the last sliver of light across the scorched earth. Like the end of a shotgun barrel, Aziz’s eyes were dark and menacing as he came in front of the row of prisoners.
Juliet felt a chill shiver across her breastbone as she slid a sidelong glance at Graham.
“Do you know how insane it is for us to be here right now?” he asked in a low voice so that only she could hear. It had been two days since Paris, and his facial stubble was more than the shadow that usually stained his square jaw. It was a dark auburn beard that played up the green in his eyes and helped to detract attention from the fact that he was a Westerner.
“Relax.” She waved off his question. “I sent a signal to David that we will likely need backup if the shit hits the fan.”
“Great, let’s just hope that’s unnecessary. Although I would say that by the looks of things—” Graham’s voice broke off as his attention was drawn back into the center of the square.
“Do you think Salman is one of the prisoners?” She could not help the thickness in her throat, nor could she bear to ask about Mariam. “Or Ibn?”
“I don’t think Aziz would kill Salman; he needs him too much.” Graham drew himself up to his full six-foot-four height. His frame looked larger in the traditional white robe worn in the Kingdom. “But we could be about to witness King Ibn’s execution, along with the rest of the al-Saud family.”
To hear him say aloud what she was thinking sent a jolt of terror fizzling through her veins. A man who was willing to take the life of his brothers was not just ambitious. He was insane. She had dealt with powerful men before; men who took what they wanted and left the rest for ruin; insane men who would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. But she had never dealt with the level of evil that she was about to witness. It took a certain type of person to be willing to murder his entire family.
“There she is,” Graham breathed, peering over the top of Juliet’s head.
She whipped around and let out a deep sigh, but still felt a sudden coldness reach her core at seeing Mariam threading her way toward them through a sea of people. She looked quite different in a full-length abaya and face veil, but nothing could dull her brilliant eyes against her dark olive complexion.
“Is she insane?” Juliet muttered under her breath, though somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that Mariam’s arrival here had been inevitable.
“Well, she’s got balls, I’ll give you that.” Graham’s eyes were rounded as Mariam approached them.
“What’s going on?” Mariam asked with ice in her voice.
“Your uncle is about to take over the country.” Graham’s Arabic was low, muffled by the crowd that buzzed with anxiety.
Juliet weaved an arm through Mariam’s. “It’s not safe for you here.”
“I think we’re beyond that,” Mariam said. Her luminous hazel eyes had faded to a light brown with the help of contact lenses and her black-silk hair was disguised by a wheat-colored wig that peeked out from underneath her veil.
“Aziz has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to just stand by while …” Her voice shook as her almond-shaped eyes narrowed.
“Don’t do anything.” Juliet grabbed Mariam’s arm. “We’re surrounded, with nowhere to go but to join those prisoners in the middle of the square.”
“Well, I can’t just stand here.” Pain rose in Mariam’s face, and she shook her head disbelievingly. “His own family … how could he? My father … my mother … what if … what if …” She broke off and her face blanched as Aziz began to weave between the hooded prisoners.
Juliet caught Graham’s eye as Mariam’s breath hitched.
Graham came from behind Juliet and began to translate Aziz’s words in a soft voice. “What a tremendous amount of hardship that our region has had to endure. After the West transitioned away from petroleum, our region was in such a state of misery that more than seventy percent of the population was unemployed, starving, or suffering from some form of malnutrition or disease.”
His eyes dazzling, Aziz approached one of the kneeling prisoners. “Yet, the West and the royal families of this region have continued to prosper, including my own family. I am ashamed of my own brother’s actions and those of the entire al-Saud family.”
Distant gunfire sparked the nighttime sky and Aziz nodded toward an armed militant with tattoos stamped across his bald head. The man jerked off the hood of the kneeling prisoner, and a spasm of dread erupted in Juliet’s throat. She swallowed it down and hugged Mariam tighter to her side.
It was Mariam’s father, King Ibn al-Saud.
His forehead was matted with dark curls, and his cheeks were flushed. His mouth was set in a tight line of masking tape. A collective gasp rippled across the crowd.
“Holy shit,” Graham said in Arabic before switching to low English. “He’s going to behead his own brother.”
A heavy, sick feeling entered Juliet’s stomach as she clung tighter to Mariam, waiting for the world to fall out from under her. “Oh my God.”
There was nothing else to say.
Mariam looked at Juliet with wild, unblinking eyes. “We have to do something.” Her finger pads tightened on Juliet’s arm.
“I know, but what?” Juliet’s eyes flitted across Deera Square, where more than fifty guards were heavily armed.
“My brother has gone against his people,” Aziz continued as silence fell around them like a tomb. “When economic collapse seemed all too certain and tribal wars raged in Afghanistan and Pakistan, my brother and his family were vacationing on their yachts, reveling in the opulence of a lifestyle that takes from the population without concern for the very people whom they rule.”
“Lies. All Lies.” Mariam’s voice was hoarse, and her eyes were glossy with emotion.
With a wave from Aziz, four guards positioned themselves behind the three other hooded prisoners. Juliet felt Mariam’s spine go rigid beside her. The guards simultaneously ripped off the hoods, revealing Mariam’s mother and two brothers. A prickle moved across Juliet’s skull and a tremor of horrified gasps filled the air. She wrapped her arm tighter around Mariam’s waist to keep her from slumping onto the ground.
Mariam dug her nails into the flesh of Juliet’s arm and before Juliet could stop her, she was running toward the square, her black abaya fluttering in the wind.
“Mariam, no!” Juliet called after her.
Armed with only her bare hands, Mariam approached the square. Guards descended on her with their guns aimed. Juliet started toward the square, but Graham locked his fingers tight around her forearm and spun her around to face him.
“You’re just as dead as she is if you go to her now. Wait until backup gets here.”
The curious eyes of bystanders gazed toward them as Graham spoke, but their attention was quickly diverted back to the scene within the square.
Mariam’s mother was gagged, though her horror was evident in her eyes when two guards seized Mariam by the arms. The sound of aircraft zipped overhead, and thunderous protests filled the air. With her pulse thrashing in her ears, Juliet watched as Aziz’s guards formed a tight circle around Mariam and her family. All it would take was one signal from Aziz and it would all be over. Mariam would be dead along with her family.
Juliet’s blood was like fire in her veins as Aziz approached Mariam.
“So nice of you to join us.”
Mariam managed to free one arm and threw a punch in Aziz’s face. There was a blood-chilling crunch and blood spilled down his face.
Hope erupted within Juliet, making it difficult not to smile.
Aziz cupped his nose and nodded toward a burly police guard. “Take hold of her!”
The mutaween came beside Mariam and caught her wrists behind her back. Mariam snatched her arm away and grimaced up at the guard. “Get your hands off me.”
The guard responded by pulling out a pistol and shoving it hard against Mariam’s back, but her voice continued to carry through the crowd. “Let my family go.”
“I must do what is right for our people.” Aziz spoke calmly as if he genuinely believed his words.
“You do only what is right for yourself,” Mariam hissed at Aziz, her eyes growing black with resolve.
“Nonsense.” He turned back to face the crowd. “Generation after generation the royal families of this region have not only failed their people economically, but also militarily.” Aziz walked with his arms clasped behind his back, glancing up at the crowd. “King Ibn al-Saud has allowed the West to intervene in our affairs for way too long. What I want is to set our country free from economic interdependence on the West.”
At the sound of his name, King Ibn struggled to loosen his restraints and a thin bead of sweat collected on his forehead.
“My father is the one who saved this region from economic collapse!” Mariam struggled against her captor’s grip. “He saw beyond an economy built on the need for petroleum.”
“Maybe so.” Aziz’s gaze shifted out onto the crowd; but his eyes were empty, as if he had forced his soul away from his body. “But what your father lacked was a vision.” There was a dark smile hidden at the corner of his mouth that pushed ice water through Juliet’s veins. “I have developed a synthetic oil that will ensure our economic prosperity over the West for generations. I will create a nation that will prosper beyond your wildest imagination.”
Aziz got closer to the king and violence danced within his eyes. “But we must not only expel those that have allowed the West to destabilize us. We must exterminate them.”
His last words tore like shrapnel into Juliet’s mind as she reached into her abaya and retrieved her gun.
“You bastard!” Mariam yelled at Aziz in Arabic as her eyes filled. “You’re willing to blame your own family to justify your own political ambitions.” She paused, trying to catch her breath as she looked out at her family, bound and gagged. “Is there really nothing that you won’t do for your own selfish desires?”
The guards pinned Mariam’s wrists tighter behind her back, making her chest puff out unnaturally. It took all Juliet’s strength not to go to her aid.
Aziz came toward Mariam and locked his clammy fingers on her jaw, forcing her gaze. Tears glossed over Mariam’s eyes as Aziz tightened his grip on her chin. “I care nothing for my own welfare, only for the welfare of my people.”
Mariam narrowed her eyes at him, tilted her head back, and spit into his face. “Bullshit.”
Aziz’s eyes went black with rage. “When I’m done, there will be nothing left of you, princess.”
Aziz punched Mariam hard in the ribs and she slumped over as she struggled to breathe. Mariam’s mother cried out and her father struggled against his restraints.
A sudden bolt of anger roused Juliet. She could no longer control the fury bubbling within her.
“We can’t wait anymore,” she said to Graham.
Graham nodded in silent agreement and reached for his gun.
As they threaded their way through the crowd, Juliet’s thoughts slowly submerged into something dark. The ambitions of men like Aziz had cost her the lives of her father and Jean-Marc. Now, he threatened her best friend. A strange bloodthirst took over as she drew a deep breath and approached the square. Graham split off from Juliet and cleared a path, spitting gunfire with blood-chilling precision. Gunshots rang, and one by one the guards fell, sending a ripple of panic throughout the crowd. Seizing on the distraction, Mariam crushed her knee hard into Aziz’s groin. His eyes popped as he doubled over in pain. Juliet felt her body tense as she moved past a line of dead guards and into the middle of the square where Mariam now stood over Aziz. Graham kept the rest of Aziz’s guards at bay with a spray of bullets that made the crowd drop to the ground.
Juliet caught Mariam’s eye and went to her side as she pressed her gun hard into Aziz’s temple. She said, “It’s time for you to leave us.”
With tear-stained cheeks, Mariam rushed toward her mother and bent down to untie her.
An entertained look flickered across Aziz’s face as he slowly turned to face Juliet. “Well, what do we have here?”
“The Syndicate will make sure you pay for this,” Juliet said to Aziz as she kept her gun pressed against his head. Juliet saw fear trickle from Aziz’s temple as a bead of sweat.
Graham was on her left, aiming his gun at any revolutionary who came close. “Stay back!” he bellowed in Arabic. His broad shoulders and straight back stood at least a head above Aziz’s soldiers.
On Juliet’s right, a revolutionary managed to get past Graham and she felt a sharp, painful blow at her side. Her eyes welled with pain. She swallowed down the anguish long enough to meet Graham’s face; his eyes burned with fury as ten guards flooded the square. Juliet heard a loud bang behind her and swiveled, catching the man who surged toward her with a bullet in the abdomen. In an instant, a tattoo-faced guard seized Juliet’s gun and took her by the shoulders, pushing her down onto her knees. Reeling with anger, her body tensed as the tattoo-faced guard struggled to keep her in place. A dizzy feeling buzzed across her face. A heavy-set revolutionary came in front of Graham and clapped him straight across the jaw with the butt of his gun. He hunched over, his jaw bloodied by the force.
In an instant, Mariam came to Juliet’s aid crashing a boot into the tattoo-faced guard’s back and forcing him away from Juliet. She inhaled deeply and came up on one knee despite the painful throbbing in her side. Juliet snatched the gun off the dusted earth and managed to shoot the heavy-set man clean between the eyes.
Pain bit at the back of her knees as the tattoo-faced guard came from behind her. He locked an arm tight around her neck. Struggling to free herself from the man’s painful grip, she jerked forward, but his grip only tightened, purpling her skin. Her gun fell to the ground.
With clouded eyes, she spotted Graham fighting in hand-to-hand combat with six of Aziz’s mutaween. Sweat pebbled on her forehead and the taste of hot metal coated her throat as she watched a guard seize Mariam by the arms. Two men brought Mariam up to her feet, forcing her to face Aziz.
Aziz ripped off Mariam’s wig, freeing her black silk hair. With fury etched across his face, he edged toward Mariam while two guards fought to hold her.
“You bastard!” The look in her eyes was dark, without fear. “How dare you betray your family, and your people!”
Aziz slapped Mariam hard across the face, making her eyes water and sending her black hair in streamers across her sweat-beaded forehead. Juliet’s veins turned to ice. Mariam’s mother screamed and let out a painful sob. King Ibn’s eyes were hazy with misery as he struggled to get to his feet. But a guard smacked the king’s back with the butt of his gun, sending him crashing back down onto the dusty earth.
Mariam’s eyes streamed tears.
Trembling with rage, Juliet forced herself to her feet. With all her weight, she swiveled and leveled a punch at the guard that had held her in place. The man’s jaw slackened. She snatched the revolver from his belt and made a beeline for Mariam, who had been bound, gagged, and forced onto her knees. As she started across the square, a sharp, exploding pain smacked the side of her head. She fell to her knees, her head splitting in tiny, piercing fragments that beckoned her to close her eyes and surrender. Agony pried her gun from her clammy hand, dropping—like her hope—to the dirt beneath her bloodstained boots. All around her the air hung heavy, like a thick fog from which there was no hope of clarity.
The tattoo-faced guard stood over her, yelling in Arabic and confronting her with the end of a gun. But his words were blurred and hazy within her mind.
“Drop the gun,” came a familiar voice behind the tattoo-faced guard.
Despite Juliet’s damaged mind, her heart instantly lightened, recognizing Graham’s voice. His eyes rested on hers, then shifted toward the guard, dark with rage.
“I’ll blow her brains out,” the guard said to Graham in a thick accent.
The gun was a mere inch from Juliet’s skull, and she squinted, trying to manage a plan to knock the gun from the guard’s hand. But she was paralyzed by the deafening spinning in her head. She tried to beat down the blackness that called out to her, but her eyelids grew heavy. Graham lunged at them and, before the guard had time to blink, Graham’s strong forearms came around the guard’s ink-stained face and squeezed with a furious grip that made the man’s eyes bulge and his neck snap. The guard’s lifeless body rocked forward, and his gun fell soundlessly to the ground.
Graham stepped toward Juliet, and she reached for him, urgent with the need to be surrounded by his strength. The throb in her head became more bearable with his warm breath on her face. With a glossy look in his eyes, he surveyed the rest of her. Her head was still splitting, and she unconsciously moved a hand to the back of her head, carefully fingering the large bump and raw flesh. When she looked at her hand, it was bloodstained but not wet. Graham’s eyebrows shot up and he peered around to the back of her head.
A mixture of protests and cheers rippled through the crowd.
“Free them! Kill them!”
From across the square, Mariam gave Juliet a bleak look and Juliet’s insides froze. They were still outnumbered and outgunned, with backup nowhere in sight. Guns gleaming, three guards seized Graham, tearing him away from Juliet by force. His eyes were cold as Aziz nodded toward two other guards to take hold of Juliet. She felt something snap within her as she looked out onto the lines of Aziz’s militants. She wanted revenge.
“You have left me no choice!” Aziz’s voice shook with fury as he looked out onto Mariam and her kneeling family.
The guards slipped white hoods on Mariam’s family to hide the fear stamped across their faces. Mariam let out a blood-curdling scream, and the sharp cry of hundreds of Saudis pierced the air.
