Chapter 1

July 2009, Sudan

I was sitting in the shadow sipping my karkadeh - red tea, which I preferred over the black, and occasionally I looked at the local paper that was on the table in front of me. Mostly, though, I just did what I was good at: I observed.

During the years that I had spent in different places around the world I had learned to notice what was happening in my vicinity. The main thing was to find out the right people to follow. Think about any town, any neighborhood. There are always some people who seem to be able to foresee oncoming trouble. They lock their doors and close their shops, and advise their close friends to stay inside, protected, out of harm's way.

Then there are the people who are totally clueless. Everything that happens around them is a total surprise to them.

I was dressed much like most of the men, here. My skin was toned darker than it normally was, and my hair was black. My eyebrows were dark, and the facial hair that was starting to show was also dark. I followed my surroundings while I occasionally took a look at the local paper, even though I could barely read the language. My spoken language was much better. Even if it gave away that I wasn't a local, it was good enough to hide my western background with an occasional change of words. The locals considered that my character was a migrant, who worked on the construction site nearby. This suited me just fine.

I was actually waiting for some people to arrive, whom I knew to be coming. I was here because I wanted to be sure, but some of the surveillance data I had was a bit vague. Surveillance data. I smiled inwardly. That was just a fancy name for a combination of gossip, overheard discussions and a few tapped rooms.

At first I had thought the room tapping was overkill. Then I got some information that my family and I, personally, were targets. I quickly got some technical devices from my own sources. I forced my thoughts away from my family, as I really didn't need any distractions, now. Even if I had used this disguise often enough, I never really felt familiar with these cloak and dagger things. Observation was ok, but this kind of thing kept me on my toes. In a way it was a good thing as it probably prevented me from slipping.

To any outside observer any such thoughts would probably seem silly, since nothing outside this hotel in this small town showed any signs of any problems. Only that some old women looked around a bit more than they did before. Also the old man two houses away had made sure that only a small part of his goods were stored outside his shop. Nothing much, but something that had happened before, and once some minor disturbance was over things slowly went back to normal - whatever that was. Now I knew that something bad was supposed to happen, and once I saw some people preparing for it, it got me worried. But right now I could not do much more than wait and observe, and enjoy my karkadeh.

It had been some time ago when I had noticed from the increased activity that something was happening. From previous experience, I could tell that some of this activity would last for a few days. What worried me was that not all the residents were as enthusiastic as they probably should have been at the possibility of more business. I remained interested in the paper in front of me, while I nursed my second cup of tea. After all, it was important to stay hydrated in this continuous heat.

Finally my wait was rewarded, as I saw two people approaching. It seemed that the taxi that brought them wasn't interested in driving the last mile through the narrowing streets. Instead, it had hurriedly dropped the stupid tourists off as soon as possible, and probably charged them at least triple the actual charge. Well, they could afford it. I took a careful look at the man but also made sure that I was not obviously looking in their direction.

The man was lean, probably in his mid-thirties which made him a bit older than me. The way he walked and moved oozed power and self-confidence, even arrogance. As if he was sure that there would be nothing or no-one here that could harm him. The traditional thawb he wore was not that typical around here. It clearly identified him as a 'true believer', and therefore superior to everybody else. Even though he was mostly covered by the clothing, that could not hide the fact that the way he walked made him look dangerous. He was like a big cat, a predator, walking lazily around, checking for his next prey. The way he walked around gave the impression that he had been here before. Khalid. Yes, that was the name he had been using.

The woman walking next to him was clearly a westerner, even if she was wearing a hijab. She was carrying her own stuff and seemed totally unaware of the aura her companion was spreading around. Suddenly I shivered, despite all the heat surrounding me. Her face was covered, but the way she walked brought back some memories. When she lifted her hand, as if she'd like to brush off some hair before remembering what she was wearing, I was absolutely sure that she was Karen. It wasn't as though my current troubles were not enough. My life had just become even more complicated.

May 2004, home

I was so happy I could burst. For the last two months I had been working my ass off and today was the day I got my reward. Now I was sure that I would be graduating next month - like that was ever in jeopardy - but the main thing was that my invention, for which I had filed for patent ... with the help of my professor - dreaming that maybe I could get it patented ... had been published. Moreover, as soon as it had been published, I had been contacted by a company who wanted to purchase it from me. When everything was done, I had a bit more than two million in my bank account, and my lawyer was contacting some of his friends who would help me with my investments. 'Nothing high risk, ' had been my only orders.

Part of my happiness was because I felt that now I was able to fix the only rift I felt there was between my fiancée Karen and me. Well the rift wasn't really between Karen and me, but between her parents and me. Her family was well-off while I was a poor orphan, a beggar who was only after their wealth. It didn't matter to her mother and father that their wealth was only first generation, or that I owned, debt-free, the apartment we already lived in together. Everybody who wasn't as wealthy as they were, or wasn't otherwise important, was a beggar. Luckily Karen didn't feel that way. It was because of her that I was the person I'd become. I let my mind wander back a few years while driving.

During the last two years in high school I had failed my chance to graduate with honors, because of one simple discovery. I really found out what the girls had that guy's didn't: pussy. At that time I could have become a total asshole or a teenage father, but luckily neither of those things happened. Once my mother found out about my activities, she read me a personal riot act! She made sure that I would not force the girls to anything they didn't want to do, and that I would always be respectful to the girls. Any kind of bragging was totally out of the question. When she made me read a booklet how to orally please a woman, and how to make sure that your partner was ready for intercourse, I was a bit embarrassed. But the final humiliation came when she decided to question me about it, afterwards.

Half a year later I hugged her, and thanked her for what she had done for me. I was quite sure that all my girlfriends were grateful, too.