him over the back of the head with the butt of his gun. The man fell hard.
“Grab your things,” Zayed commanded as he looked at the fallen man. “There will be more coming; we have to get out of here now.”
Jill looked at the time: 1:22 a.m. She grabbed her computer, the small leather pouch, and anything else her eyes revealed in the pitch black. She threw them into her carry-on and they fled silently down the dark fire exit stairs and out of the hotel.
Outside, the cool air was a break from the daytime desert heat, but Jill still wore her clothes from the night before and for that she was thankful. Their boots smacked the side street as they ran into the dark. Jill followed Zayed to a large white Land Cruiser.
“Quick, get in!” Before Jill could slam the door shut, Zayed accelerated. He drove frantically through the stream of parked cars. Their bodies lifted as they hit the large speed bumps at high speed. Out onto the dark street, cars blurred as they passed them. Several turns later, when Zayed slowed, Jill was able to unclench the handle above the door.
With no apology, Zayed began to speak. “I know this man. I recognized him
when he walked across the parking lot at the hotel.”
“But how did you get into—”
Before Jill could finish asking how he managed to break into her room undetected, Zayed pulled out a key to her room. Feeling slightly violated, she asked who the man was. “You were watching the hotel? Why?”
“You cannot go back to that hotel. You must stay underground. You are in danger.”
“Who the hell was that guy, Zayed? Tell me! And why do you think I am in danger?”
“He is a rebel from the Chechen Mafia. They are running the Al Qaeda cell here in Doha. Guess I am not the only one who is paying for information about you. The question is: What is their interest in you?”
“What were you doing at my hotel? Who are you, Zayed, and where the hell are we going?”
“I have told you already, I am here to help David. Quiet now, just for a few minutes, I’m thinking.”
“Screw you.” Jill felt the gun inside her pants pocket. She looked at Zayed and when he didn’t return her glare, she stared out the window. They were on a highway now, water on her left and desert on her right—it appeared that they were leaving the city.
Jill scrolled her mind, searching her memory for the briefs she had read about the Chechens. Then, the sting of what she recalled made her mouth drop open slightly. Jill remembered David telling her about one of his colleagues at Time who wrote that Matta had refurbished “broken arrows.” When she went to Sven with this information, he seemed to dismiss it as Matta grandstanding. Jill’s research proved him wrong; Matta had indeed purchased twenty live nukes from the Chechen Mafia. It was confirmed in a US State Department brief and was leaked to the international media. The US media failed to cover the story. Even after pressing Sven further on it, he tried to placate Jill. He told her the CIA were saying that the brief was false. She knew it wasn’t and frankly she didn’t know why Sven would attempt to make such a stupid statement. And if it was true, the Chechen Mafia potentially had more nukes for sale.
Jill’s brain began to tick the boxes. LSA, Afghanistan, and now the Chechens. One hell of a story, David, one hell of a story. Jill decided to tell Zayed what she knew about the Mafia and its connection with Matta. With the adrenaline dissipating as they drove along the gloomy streets, Jill wondered if she could trust Zayed with the new information she had received and her decision not to go to Afghanistan. “Fake ‘till you make it, and never let them see you sweat” was her motto. I'm going to take as much from this guy that I can … for now, anyway
“What do you know about the Chechen Mafia?” Jill asked Zayed.
“They are now a growing movement contributing to the Islamic radicalism. They are a powerful organized crime
“Grab your things,” Zayed commanded as he looked at the fallen man. “There will be more coming; we have to get out of here now.”
Jill looked at the time: 1:22 a.m. She grabbed her computer, the small leather pouch, and anything else her eyes revealed in the pitch black. She threw them into her carry-on and they fled silently down the dark fire exit stairs and out of the hotel.
Outside, the cool air was a break from the daytime desert heat, but Jill still wore her clothes from the night before and for that she was thankful. Their boots smacked the side street as they ran into the dark. Jill followed Zayed to a large white Land Cruiser.
“Quick, get in!” Before Jill could slam the door shut, Zayed accelerated. He drove frantically through the stream of parked cars. Their bodies lifted as they hit the large speed bumps at high speed. Out onto the dark street, cars blurred as they passed them. Several turns later, when Zayed slowed, Jill was able to unclench the handle above the door.
With no apology, Zayed began to speak. “I know this man. I recognized him
when he walked across the parking lot at the hotel.”
“But how did you get into—”
Before Jill could finish asking how he managed to break into her room undetected, Zayed pulled out a key to her room. Feeling slightly violated, she asked who the man was. “You were watching the hotel? Why?”
“You cannot go back to that hotel. You must stay underground. You are in danger.”
“Who the hell was that guy, Zayed? Tell me! And why do you think I am in danger?”
“He is a rebel from the Chechen Mafia. They are running the Al Qaeda cell here in Doha. Guess I am not the only one who is paying for information about you. The question is: What is their interest in you?”
“What were you doing at my hotel? Who are you, Zayed, and where the hell are we going?”
“I have told you already, I am here to help David. Quiet now, just for a few minutes, I’m thinking.”
“Screw you.” Jill felt the gun inside her pants pocket. She looked at Zayed and when he didn’t return her glare, she stared out the window. They were on a highway now, water on her left and desert on her right—it appeared that they were leaving the city.
Jill scrolled her mind, searching her memory for the briefs she had read about the Chechens. Then, the sting of what she recalled made her mouth drop open slightly. Jill remembered David telling her about one of his colleagues at Time who wrote that Matta had refurbished “broken arrows.” When she went to Sven with this information, he seemed to dismiss it as Matta grandstanding. Jill’s research proved him wrong; Matta had indeed purchased twenty live nukes from the Chechen Mafia. It was confirmed in a US State Department brief and was leaked to the international media. The US media failed to cover the story. Even after pressing Sven further on it, he tried to placate Jill. He told her the CIA were saying that the brief was false. She knew it wasn’t and frankly she didn’t know why Sven would attempt to make such a stupid statement. And if it was true, the Chechen Mafia potentially had more nukes for sale.
Jill’s brain began to tick the boxes. LSA, Afghanistan, and now the Chechens. One hell of a story, David, one hell of a story. Jill decided to tell Zayed what she knew about the Mafia and its connection with Matta. With the adrenaline dissipating as they drove along the gloomy streets, Jill wondered if she could trust Zayed with the new information she had received and her decision not to go to Afghanistan. “Fake ‘till you make it, and never let them see you sweat” was her motto. I'm going to take as much from this guy that I can … for now, anyway
“What do you know about the Chechen Mafia?” Jill asked Zayed.
“They are now a growing movement contributing to the Islamic radicalism. They are a powerful organized crime
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