Rise of the Beast: A Novel (The Patmos Conspiracy Book 1) by M.K. Gilroy Page A
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Authors: M.K. Gilroy
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their job as well as she was.
Mariama, I could not save you. But I will make sure your name lives forever.
10
Northern Yemen
MALMAK NODDED TO YUSUF. YUSUF wedged the claw of the crowbar beneath the lid of the crate and pried it loose a couple inches. He repeated the process at various intervals and then popped the top off.
Malmak’s eyes gleamed. Surely the Prophet was gracious to hear his prayers. How else could this abundant gift be his?
Sheikh Malmak led a proud but poor tribe based in the Saudi Arabia city of Tarim on the border with Yemen. Most of his tribe lived in the northern hills of Yemen. With these weapons he would finally become a player, not a spectator; an initiator, not a reactor. He would now be remembered not only as a man of pure words, but also as a man of mighty deeds. He would fulfill the destiny of his exalted name.
Hours earlier Malmak had ordered the death of Sulaymon Ibn Abd Allah’s son. But what could the man do about it? His hold on power was long overdue to crash and burn. He pompously had appropriated the name of a great historical leader who had fought to restore the tenets of true Islam, who had fought to destroy the corruption of the infidels, and who had struck terror and death into the heart of Christendom. Sulaymon was not fit for such a glorious name. He had compromisedtoo freely. He must pay the price for the spiritual drift that infected so many of his subjects. His son’s death was an earnest payment.
The exercise continued for hours. Each crate contained new delights. Lightweight Kalashnikov AK-47 rifles, RPG mortar launchers, and the ammunition to give teeth to the brand new assault jeeps, troop transports, and hybrid tanks that had already been delivered.
The Greek had delivered everything he promised, including a Russian military veteran of the Chechen wars—an enemy of Allah— something he would have to overlook until the man was of no further use—to train his young warriors.
The Greek had also saved him from the disaster of losing Allah’s gift to Sulaymon and his tribe of compromisers and collaborators with the enemies of Allah. He now had the means to do more than cut off the head of the sheikh’s beloved son.
Malmak was a man of history. Full retribution for the Wahhabi invasion of Tarim two centuries earlier would come to full fruition now. The Wahhabi’s had slaughtered and burned the city of his fathers. To add insult to inglorious injury, they had redrawn the border to split his tribe between two countries, insuring their slow, steady, inglorious decline.
Malmak spat a thick stream of qat.
Death to those who destroyed the writings of true Islam and death to those who forget such crimes against the faithful.
11
Devil’s Den Hiking Trail,
Ozark National Forest
THE FOREST WAS PAULINE’S CATHEDRAL. She winded through gloomy arbors, an occasional burst of light piercing and caressing her troubled soul on the path.
I don’t ever want to stop. Can I run until everything that has been done to me, everything I’ve done, is behind me?
Everything Pauline had done the past six months had been a tortured and harrowing lie, except for what she was about to do now. She had always loved to run. Now she depended on her daily outing as a tenuous strand to sanity. Sleeping with a megalomaniacal billionaire could do that to you, she thought.
She needed to run like she needed air. It reminded her that she was not the person she had become. Someday soon she would become her true self. She would not be a victim of her circumstances forever.
She had reached the moment that would change her life, but she wondered how she had ever got here. She wanted to believe her life would work out, filled with happiness and wealth. But she had believed before to no avail.
Running with long smooth strides, breathing hard but regular, she exhilarated in the rare, exquisite feeling of personal power—no one cantouch me here—as she wended up and down the path of a lush forest
Mariama, I could not save you. But I will make sure your name lives forever.
10
Northern Yemen
MALMAK NODDED TO YUSUF. YUSUF wedged the claw of the crowbar beneath the lid of the crate and pried it loose a couple inches. He repeated the process at various intervals and then popped the top off.
Malmak’s eyes gleamed. Surely the Prophet was gracious to hear his prayers. How else could this abundant gift be his?
Sheikh Malmak led a proud but poor tribe based in the Saudi Arabia city of Tarim on the border with Yemen. Most of his tribe lived in the northern hills of Yemen. With these weapons he would finally become a player, not a spectator; an initiator, not a reactor. He would now be remembered not only as a man of pure words, but also as a man of mighty deeds. He would fulfill the destiny of his exalted name.
Hours earlier Malmak had ordered the death of Sulaymon Ibn Abd Allah’s son. But what could the man do about it? His hold on power was long overdue to crash and burn. He pompously had appropriated the name of a great historical leader who had fought to restore the tenets of true Islam, who had fought to destroy the corruption of the infidels, and who had struck terror and death into the heart of Christendom. Sulaymon was not fit for such a glorious name. He had compromisedtoo freely. He must pay the price for the spiritual drift that infected so many of his subjects. His son’s death was an earnest payment.
The exercise continued for hours. Each crate contained new delights. Lightweight Kalashnikov AK-47 rifles, RPG mortar launchers, and the ammunition to give teeth to the brand new assault jeeps, troop transports, and hybrid tanks that had already been delivered.
The Greek had delivered everything he promised, including a Russian military veteran of the Chechen wars—an enemy of Allah— something he would have to overlook until the man was of no further use—to train his young warriors.
The Greek had also saved him from the disaster of losing Allah’s gift to Sulaymon and his tribe of compromisers and collaborators with the enemies of Allah. He now had the means to do more than cut off the head of the sheikh’s beloved son.
Malmak was a man of history. Full retribution for the Wahhabi invasion of Tarim two centuries earlier would come to full fruition now. The Wahhabi’s had slaughtered and burned the city of his fathers. To add insult to inglorious injury, they had redrawn the border to split his tribe between two countries, insuring their slow, steady, inglorious decline.
Malmak spat a thick stream of qat.
Death to those who destroyed the writings of true Islam and death to those who forget such crimes against the faithful.
11
Devil’s Den Hiking Trail,
Ozark National Forest
THE FOREST WAS PAULINE’S CATHEDRAL. She winded through gloomy arbors, an occasional burst of light piercing and caressing her troubled soul on the path.
I don’t ever want to stop. Can I run until everything that has been done to me, everything I’ve done, is behind me?
Everything Pauline had done the past six months had been a tortured and harrowing lie, except for what she was about to do now. She had always loved to run. Now she depended on her daily outing as a tenuous strand to sanity. Sleeping with a megalomaniacal billionaire could do that to you, she thought.
She needed to run like she needed air. It reminded her that she was not the person she had become. Someday soon she would become her true self. She would not be a victim of her circumstances forever.
She had reached the moment that would change her life, but she wondered how she had ever got here. She wanted to believe her life would work out, filled with happiness and wealth. But she had believed before to no avail.
Running with long smooth strides, breathing hard but regular, she exhilarated in the rare, exquisite feeling of personal power—no one cantouch me here—as she wended up and down the path of a lush forest
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