“Women are far more bloodthirsty than men,” Sheikh Hakeem chuckled. “Bedouins are feared in battle, but not nearly as much as our women. His cock and balls next, though do it slowly. I want him to feel it.”
“His name is Pavel, Pavel Kristoff,” Chet gasped, his eyes bulging. “Honestly.”
“And where can I find this Pavel Kristoff?” Sheikh Hakeem asked softly.
“The Al Nile Hotel,” Chet cried.
“How will we know him?” Sheikh Hakeem asked.
“A-a scar, above his left eye,” Chet sobbed. “Please don’t hurt me anymore, please.”
Sheikh Hakeem turned and gave harsh-sounding instructions in Arabic to his men.
“You have already impressed me more than any women I have ever met, but now I am truly honored,” Sheikh Hakeem said, bowing towards them. “You have Bedouin souls. Even Bedouin men fear Bedouin women and the two of you have Bedouin souls.”
“What will happen now?” Susan asked.
“We’ll have his friend brought here and see what he knows,” Sheikh Hakeem replied. “It’s so much easier to get information when you have two people. I’ll simply play them off against each other and do it so that they’ll know that I’m doing it. One will always cooperate to save himself. It’s human nature, especially for bottom-of-the-barrel scum such as these.”
“And him, Chet?” Krista asked.
“We’ll keep him nice and safe until his friend gets here,” Sheikh Hakeem replied, smiling.
“What about first aid for his… for his…” Susan started to ask.
“It’s not necessary,” Sheikh Hakeem said.
“I know it seems barbaric to you, but this sheikh is doing it the right way,” Zach said when they were alone.
“Wouldn’t it be great if all governments did things this way?” Krista said sarcastically. “Oh, I don’t feel sorry for him, not one little bit, but it sort of flies in the face of everything we’ve ever been taught.”
“Don’t kid yourself, most governments operate exactly like this, you just don’t hear about it,” Zach snorted. “Who was it that was saying to cut his cock and balls off?” he asked, smiling.
“Don’t forget about feeding them to him,” Susan said, then laughed. “I was thinking of David when I said that.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll get to see someone lose their cock and balls yet,” Zach said portentously. “The day is young.”
They were sitting in the water, trying to escape the heat and drinking the beers that one of the sheikh’s men had brought back from Salalah when one of the men came down to the water and called to them. Following him back to the tent, they saw another rolled-up carpet that Sheikh Hakeem was resting his feet on. When he saw them, he smiled and gave the carpet a kick to get it unrolling to finally reveal a short-blonde-haired man with ice-blue eyes and a scar above his left eye.
“I’m going to ask you some questions,” Sheikh Hakeem said from his seat amongst the cushions. “If you do not answer them quickly and completely, you will know pain. Do you understand?”
The man merely stared at him coldly, emotionless. Sheikh Hakeem nodded his head, and in a flash, one of the man’s ears was being tossed onto the ground while he retched, though he never cried out.
“It is your choice how much pain you will endure before you die,” Sheikh Hakeem said with a sigh. “I am indifferent. The only thing I want is some answers. Give me those and you will not suffer needlessly. Try to thwart me and you will learn what suffering is all about,” he said, nodding to his friend who responded by emptying a bag on the ground next to the man’s ear.
“Those are the pieces we were forced to take from your friend before he gave us you,” Sheikh Hakeem said, smiling when he saw the man blanch. “What purpose will it serve for you to suffer like that? We will try again. Do you understand?”
He didn’t speak, but he nodded his head curtly, the hatred in his eyes palpable.
“And your name?” Sheikh Hakeem asked, smiling. “You can’t answer that one with a nod. You have 3 seconds.”
“Pavel Kristoff,” he replied, his eyes going to the pile of ears and fingers.
One of the sheikh’s men approached and handed him a passport and a US Marine KA-BAR knife in a hardened leather sheath.
“Tell me, Pavel, why would a simple tourist from Slovakia,” he asked, referring to the passport, “have a US Marine KA-BAR knife in his hotel room?”
When Pavel didn’t answer, Sheikh Hakeem nodded and his other ear joined the pile, this time a moan escaping his lips.
“Come now, are you really going to be so tedious and make me cut you up into little pieces before you tell me what I want to know?” Sheikh Hakeem asked, shaking his head. “Why do you have a US Marine KA-BAR knife in your hotel room?”
“Proof,” Pavel croaked.
“Proof! Proof? Proof of what?” Sheikh Hakeem asked.
“To get paid,” Pavel said, retching as the blood poured down his neck from both sides.
“If he does not answer my next question immediately and fully, take three of his fingers,” Sheikh Hakeem said, glaring at Pavel, who, if possible, paled even further.
“No, no,” Pavel finally cried out when he felt his fingers grasped behind his back.
“Paid for what?” Sheikh Hakeem asked.
“The braid,” Pavel gasped. “$5 million for the braid.”
“You must think me an idiot or a fool,” Sheikh Hakeem snarled, nodding at his friend, Pavel screaming loud enough to hurt their ears as three of his fingers were tossed onto the pile. “Three fingers from his other hand this time,” he said, Pavel screaming as he felt them grasped. “Paid for what?” Sheikh Hakeem asked.
“Proof that she was dead,” Pavel screamed, groaning with the pain.
“So,” Sheikh Hakeem said after giving instructions in Arabic and seeing Pavel dragged away. “Now we know. Please sit with me,” he said, Susan and Krista bracketing him, his smile broadening as his hand slid over their sun-roughened skin, caressing their asses. “Susan, Mrs. Kumms,” Sheikh Hakeem started to say, smiling when he saw their eyes widening. “I presume that is Kumms Corporation?”
“Yes,” Susan replied, nonplussed.
“How long have you known?” Krista asked.
“I knew 30 minutes after you stepped into my tent the first time,” Sheikh Hakeem replied. “It’s an unusual name to begin with and I happen to hold a Doctorate in Economics. Of course I’ve heard of one of the wealthiest people on the planet. Would you care to tell me what’s really going on now?”
Taking a deep breath, Susan began explaining, Zach and Krista offering their bits of information.
“And now we’re here,” Susan said with a sigh. “My David is dead. All of those wonderful researchers are dead. And my son is trying to kill me.”
“What is your plan after leaving here, or at all, if I may ask?” Sheikh Hakeem asked.
“You’d have to ask Zach,” Susan said with a wan smile. “He’s been our tactician up to now.”
“The Trust hearing is in about 3 weeks,” Zach said. “My plan is to go back to the States a week before the hearing. I have a friend in the FBI that I trust. I’ll get in touch with him. Between us, I’m sure that we’ll get Susan to that hearing in one piece.”
“You are no longer safe here,” Sheikh Hakeem said, shaking his head. “When these two aren’t heard from, someone is going to come looking. You need to go somewhere for a couple of weeks yet.”
“Rolf told me about a place in The Gambia, run by a friend of his,” Zach said. “I thought that we might go there. Most people haven’t even heard of it, so I think that we’ll be okay for a couple of weeks.”