The Spear of Destiny (26 page)

  “There you are. A pretty necklace for a very pretty little girl.”

Suddenly the child dropped the gold heart and she threw herself forward and hugged Natalie tightly. Natalie put her arms around the tiny back and held Fatima equally, her eyes closed. Then the little girl released her grip and smiled at the beautiful woman.

  Al Massri watched on.

  “There are many thousands of children here in Gaza just like her.”

He nodded at one of his men who moved to the child.

  “Come on little one,” he said, “Let’s get you away from the house.”

The child followed him towards where she lived on a small makeshift bed under a large tarpaulin.

  “We took her to an orphanage but she came back. She seems to like it here. She can stay, where she will grow up to hate my country’s enemies.”

  Natalie rejoined them. Tears were running down her face. Al Massri finished talking to his man then led them on. Hutchinson was still puzzled at something Dennis had said in the house. He caught up to the journalist and grabbed his arm to slow him down. Al Massri, unaware, moved further on ahead flanked by his bodyguards.

  “Pete I don’t like this one bit. Are you sure we can trust him.”

  “He can be trusted. He would give his life for what he believes in.”

  “What didn’t he want us to know when he stopped you from explaining any more about him?”

  “His group has used torture on its enemies. Torture and suicide bombings.”

Hutchinson could only imagine the horror.

  “I’ll be honest Pete. I’m petrified of him, of the power he holds.”

Hutchinson had watched as Al Massri had walked up the road with his machine gun slung carelessly over his shoulder and people had called out to him.

  “What was that about not needing passports. Already taken care of. How are we going to get guns through Israel and into the west bank?”

  Dennis knew that the time had come. He reached into his jeans back pocket and pulled out three passports, opened them one at a time and handed one to Hutchinson who looked at the writing on the front.

  “These are Australian?”

Dennis nodded and pointed at his girlfriend.

  “Meet the new head of the British red cross in Palestine. Miss Natalie Feltham.”

  “What?”

  “Natalie is travelling under her own name but now she is a top aid worker with the red cross.”

  Hutchinson couldn’t believe his ears. He knew he wasn’t going to like the next answer.

  “And we are?” he asked looking at his own photograph in his forged passport.

  “We are private military contractors or PMC’s as they’re known for short. We are working for an Australian security company called utility resources group. We are based in Dubai. We’re her bodyguards and because I speak Arabic I am also her interpretor.”

  Hutchinson was speechless. Dennis knew his plan was brilliant. Finally Hutchinson asked.

  “How were you able to arrange this without us getting wind of it?”

Before Dennis was able to answer the american said.

  “That afternoon in Alexandria, when Natalie said she wasn’t feeling well and you said you had business and were gone all afternoon. You did it then didn’t you.”

  Hutchinson suddenly saw red.

  “You’re going to get us fucking killed!”

Dennis grabbed his arm and pulled him in close.

  “Do you want to keep your voice down,” Dennis said looking anxiously at Al Massri.

  The bearded man had heard and had stopped and was now facing back in their direction.

  “Is everything alright.”

Natalie had almost caught up to Al Massri and she looked back, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.

  “Yeah fine!” Dennis yelled back.

  “For fuck’s sake don’t do this now Jim.”

  “I wish you’d include me in everything Pete.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you back in Egypt in case you reacted as you just have. I didn’t want you to pull out.”

  “We probably should.”

  “No way. We are in way deep. Remember the spear. That’s what we’ve come after. Don’t forget that.”

  “I haven’t forgotten and I’m not going to quit. From now on I want to be included in everything okay. No more secrets.”

  Dennis shook Hutchinson’s hand.

  “From now on. I pomise.”

Al Massri was still watching them.

  “It’s alright!” Dennis shouted, “We’re just discussing the deal.”

He waved to show all was alright. Al Massri glanced at Natalie.

  “I can’t stop thinking about that poor child,” she said.

  “There are thousands like her.”

  “I expect Israel has just as many.”

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud and she cursed the slip. She saw Al Massri’s face flush with anger.

  “I’m sorry I meant no disrespect.”

His voice was flinty and cruel.

  “Do you know how many childen have died because of Israel? Tens of thousands,” he said before giving Natalie a chance to answer. “Do you know how much land Israel has stolen from my country since 1948. Or how many refugees have been created? Over one million people have been driven from their homes, their lands, their livelihoods. My own grandfather used to work in Israel, for thirty years he worked there. Then one day he was kicked out and a wall was built. He died a poor, broken man….”

  “I’m sorry. Please forget what I said.”

Al Massri knew the girl would never understand. He felt some of the anger leave him.

  “Because this is your first time here and you are ignorant of our problems you are forgiven.”

  Dennis and Hutchinson rejoined them. Dennis saw the look on his girlfriends face.

  “Everything alright?” he asked.

  “I was just telling your friend about the conditions in the refugee camps here in Palestine.”

  “Horrible places,” Dennis agreed.

Al Massri ordered them onward. After a few minutes more they approached a large covered area. It was swarming with men wearing a variety of camouflage, some green, some desert, some mixed, green jackets and desert trousers or the other way round. More than once Dennis saw an american or british flag on a sleeve. Every man here wore a black balaclava that completely covered their face, leaving only eyes and noses exposed. Some wore, on their foreheads, green banners with white Arabic writing. Each man wore a military tactical assault vest over their jacket that held large knives, handguns, flashlights, spare ammunition and grenades. All carried AK-47’s. Three carried RPG’s slung across their backs. They all greeted Al Massri as a group.

  “Jesus Pete. These guys look serious.”

  “You’d better believe it,” Dennis moved closer to Natalie and said in a low voice so as not to be heard, “You went pale earlier. What did he say to you?”

  “He was saying about how his people have suffered and I just said I’m sure Israel has too.”

  Dennis winced.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that there are two sides to every story and that surely Israel has one to tell also. Doesn’t it?”

  “Yes it does,” Dennis made sure both Natalie and Hutchinson could hear him, “I warned you both to be careful about what you say. People have died for less. Remember we’re only alive still because he respects the work I did here. Offend him and he’ll have our throats cut as soon as look at us.”

  “I thought you said he was a kind of friend,” Hutchinson added.

Dennis shook his head.

  “His religion does not allow it. He will trade with us because trade is for the good of all but that’s as far as it goes. We cannot be friends, it is not permitted. I think it would be best from now on if you only asked relevant questions about the guns. Okay? Leave the talking to me.”

  Al Massri led them in under the large canopy, which was a dozen tarpaulins tied together. There was a large square table in the centre and a man was opening boxes of communications equipment and inspecting it. It was hot under cover and Dennis felt the sweat trickling down his back. The air was thin and a constant trail of dust drifted past. Al Massri threw out his arms.

  “What do you want?”

  “We need a machine gun each, sidearms, vests….” Dennis looked Hutchinson up and down, “He needs clothes. Do you want a sidearm?” he asked Natalie. She shrugged. “Give her a sidearm. Oh and we’ll want some thigh holsters. Flashlights. Let me think a minute. We brought some food with us. We’ll think about provisions in a minute. Let’s start with weapons.”

  Al Massri grabbed a crowbar and began opening some crates.

  “For assault rifles we have AR-15’s, FN FAL’s, AK’s….”

  “AR-15,” Dennis said, “Give us two of those.”

Al Massri took two of the American machine guns out of the crate and threw one to Dennis and one to Hutchinson, who hefted it in his hand.

  “Not too heavy, “ he said, “Is it a good weapon?”

  “Very,” Dennis replied.

  “Extra ammunition?” Al Massri asked.

  “What do they come with?”

  “One clip each of thirty rounds in an extended mag.”

  “We’ll take two hundred rounds each.”

Al Massri nodded at one of his men to sort the extra ammunition.

  “Sidearms?”

  “Something easy to use.”

Al Massri threw a gun over. Dennis caught it and turned it over in his hand.

  “Sig-pro! Nice,” he said inspecting the German-Swiss made handgun,   “These are used by police forces around the world.”

  He tossed it to Hutchinson who passed it from hand to hand.

  “Nice and light,” the American said. He handed it on to Natalie who looked at it and went to hand it straight back.

  “It’s yours,” Dennis said to her, ”I suggest you tuck it into the waistband of your jeans so you can get to it easily.”

  She did as she was told. The feel of it was reassuring to her.

  “We’ll have thigh holsters for ours.”

Al Massri sorted two out. Dennis attached his to his jeans straight away. He stopped Hutchinson from doing his.

  “Hang on Jim. We’re going to sort your attire out.”

  “RPG’s?” Al Massri asked.

  “No,” Dennis answered. His t-shirt was now completely soaked from the heat under the tarpaulins. “We could do with some flashlights though. The type  that clip onto combat jackets.”

  Al Massri sought out three.

  “What else do you want?”

  “I dunno. Are we still in budget?”

  “Still in budget?” Hutchinson said, “That was twenty grand.”

  “I told you prices have gone up. Before 2008 an AK-47 was less than a thousand, now they’re probably two. Plus the percentage Hamas takes for itself.”

  “Grenades?” Al Massri asked.

Dennis looked at his companions, then at the bearded man.

  “No,” then a thought struck him, “Have you got any trackers?”

  “Personal trackers? Of course.”

  “ Magnetic ones?”

  “All types. What do you want to track? People? Vehicles?”

  “Probably both.”

Al Massri spoke to the man sitting at the table. He was still opening small boxes. He hadn’t spoken since they’d got there. Now he beckoned Dennis over. He opened a box and took two personal trackers, the size of a large cigarette lighter, out and activated them. He handed one to Dennis and the other to Hutchinson.

  “One more,” Dennis said.

The man nodded and opened another box. There was a brief discussion between himself and Al Massri. The faction leader had the final word and the man shrugged.

  “They come in pairs. I told him to let you have the other one so now you have a spare.”

  “I’m sure it will come in very handy,” Hutchinson thanked him.

  “So how do we track ourselves?” Dennis asked.

  “The signals can be picked up by computers, laptops and smart phones.”

The man handing out the trackers gave Dennis the codes for each personal tracker. Dennis found it on his I-phone and was impressed to see a red dot appear on the GPS map on his screen.

  “It’s working?” Al Massri asked.

They each checked with their phones. Each had a red dot.

  “You had better turn them off again,” Al Massri ordered, ”I hope Israel is not already picking up the signals.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so,” Dennis replied.

  “Let us hope not.”

  “Do you want us to switch our phones off now.”

  “It might be better if you did.”

Al Massri felt a little more relaxed once their phones were off. He should have insisted when they’d first arrived.

  “Now,” he said, “A weapon for the woman.”

  “AK-47,” Dennis said instantly, “Something lightweight, easy to use.”

Al Massri selected one and tossed it to Dennis who caught it mid air.

  “This is a great weapon,” he said, “Designed in 1949 by the Russian general with the same name. Mikhail Kalashnikov. Still being used around the globe. Over 75 million rifles built. Weighs a little over ten pounds. Doesn’t freeze or stick in any condition. Even if you get sand in it.”

  He took the AK-47 and handed it to Natalie. To her the weapon felt heavy and cumbersome but she took it and held it across her waist.

  “Are you okay with it?”

  “Yeah I’ll be fine,” she answered, already getting used to the weight of the gun.

  “You could have it without the stock but I think it’s better for you with it. It’ll be easier to control.”

  “Is that everything?”

  “We need acouple of those vests your men are wearing, but not new ones. They’d stand out. We need to look like we’ve been doing this for a long time.”

  While Al Massri went to sort out the vests, Hutchinson spoke to Dennis, while keeping his voice low.

  “Pete I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Of course you can.”

Dennis looked at his friend. Hutchinson, despite the weapons, the handgun and the thigh holster, still looked like an academic.

  “We just need to make you look the part.”

Dennis reached forward and removed Hutchinson’s spectacles.

  “Hey! I need those for reading.”

  “How bad is your eyesight?”

  “I can see fine. I need them to be able to read at a distance.”

Dennis spun around, looking for something for Hutchinson to focus on.