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CHAPTER 1
Sheikh Al-Hafeez Ramadan pushed the door back with such force it banged on the wall behind it. He raced to his large desk situated in the middle of his oval office and yanked the drawer out.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Al-Kareem said as he chased him inside.
“This is not the time for I told you so my friend,” the Sheikh told his friend. “I just know I need to get out of here as quickly as possible, before they get here.”
“What are you doing?” Al-Kareem asked the man. “You need to go to your father and…”
“No, I can’t do that,” Al-Hafeez replied, and when he stared at his friend the terror was visible on his features. He stood and raked his hand through his mane of black hair. He was supposed to be a good ruler, from a powerful family, but for the last four years his father has had to bail him out of scandalous gambling binges, and he wasn’t too eager to turn to him again. Not so soon after the last one.
“So what are you going to do then?” Al-Kareem asked.
“I have some bonds here, and some gold…”
“I don’t think that will cover it,” someone said from the doorway. His shadow filled the room even before he did. He walked past Al-Kareem as if he wasn’t there, and headed straight for Al-Hafeez. “I doubt you would have ten million dollars’ worth of bonds stashed in your desk drawer.”
“N-no,” Sheikh Al-Hafeez stuttered. “I was merely procuring the key so I could visit the bank in the morning and get it for you.”
“Is that a fact?” the man asked and snapped to two men who were waiting in the hallway. They entered and bore down on Al-Hafeez while Al-Kareem watched, unable to do anything to help his friend.
“Look, just give me some time,” Al-Hafeez pleaded. He had his hands held up before him in defense; he knew well what these men were capable of. This had not been his first rodeo, but he was a stubborn student.
“Are you sure you don’t want to just disappear? I mean, that is what this looks like, right? I’d hate to think of what will happen to your dear old father if I can’t get a hold of you,” the man said and smirked. He rubbed his thumb and his index fingers together through his gloves, the wicked gleam in his eyes narrowing his vision.
“Don’t you dare talk about my father Manseh,” Al-Hafeez. “It seems you forget the family you are dealing with.”
“I am not dealing with the entire family now Al-Hafeez. Right now, I just need my money or you won’t like what happens next.”
“I’ll get you the money,” Al-Hafeez told him. “Just stop hounding me.”
“You have thirty-six hours, and that’s only because I am being gracious,” the man said and stepped out. He snapped his fingers and his henchmen followed him.
Al-Kareem peeked into the hallway to ensure the men were all gone before closing the door behind him. “Do you now understand the gravity of the situation?”
“I know the gravity of the situation,” Al-Hafeez shouted. “Why do you think I am in here rummaging for bonds? I know what they are capable of!”
“Don’t shout at me,” Al-Kareem retorted. “If you had been smart about this and left the underground business alone you would not be in this mess now.”
“Water under the bridge,” Al-Hafeez said and wiped his hand down his face. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink before sinking into the leather chair behind his desk. He sat there silently for a few seconds, appreciating the burn as the brandy coursed down his throat.
“So, what are you going to do? I know your family has the money…”
“But will they be happy to help again? That’s the question isn’t it?” Al-Hafeez interjected. He slapped the now empty glass onto the mahogany desk and sat up. “I guess I will just have to clean up this mess on my own.”
“What are you going to do?” Al-Kareem asked. He knew his friend was reckless and spontaneous and liable to do something stupid yet again. The wild look he had in his eyes was always followed by reckless and irresponsible behavior.
“I will not be blackmailed by a scumbag,” Al-Hafeez sneered. “If he wants to threaten me, we will see who strikes first.”
“Are you mad?” Al-Kareem asked and grabbed him by the arm. The strength he wielded was sufficient to cause Al-Hafeez to make a complete three sixty turn. “This man will kill you, or worse, if you don’t pay up. Listen, I will contact my banker in the morning and we will see what happens.”
“He can’t kill me if I do it first,” Al-Hafeez said.
“Listen to yourself,” Al-Kareem said. “You sound just like them. For someone of your position and stature, I expected a little more grace under fire. But go ahead and ruin your reputation more than you already have. I will not be there next to you picking up the pieces again.” And with that the man stormed out of the office and slammed the door.
Sheikh Al-Hafeez stood there, looking at the closed door after his friend had gone. Then he turned and went back to his desk. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He kept it with him at all times, and he hoped he never had occasion to use it. He sighed and took the phone from the cradle and dialed the number. He wiped his hand down his goatee and paced the floor while the sound of the phone ringing on the other end echoed in his ear.
“Hello,” a gruff voice responded on the other end of the line.
