A deadly encounter

An excerpt of my 21st book and thriller, to be published int the near future.

A deadly encounter

A Two Edged Sword

An excerpt

They rode straight westward through plains of thorn and low bushes, and secluded groves for one hour, and the lights of Iskenderun became gradually brighter and closer. They came closer to a paved junction before them, Ahmed was looking for a suitable spot to hide the bike, when he heard a heavy machine gun burst and Majid cry of pain… Majid lost his balance and as he fell aside he caused the bike to overturn to the ground. 

An armored vehicle that was stationed at the junction fired on them. Ahmed pushed the bike that caught his leg and was on top of Majid's waist and crouch. They were sprawled on the ground under the overturned bike stunned for a few seconds, but they were hidden from the armored vehicle, which was some three hundred meters away due to the uneven ground surface.

Ahmed pushed the bike away and turned to Majid, though he had no idea how he is going to help his bleeding comrade.

'You'd better leave but take my gun, my goggles and my identity card with you; I'll tell them that I'm a refugee that stole that bike and rode it alone. Here take my things and go for Allah's sake, we'll meet in Iskenderun or in heaven.' Majid urged him to flee, in interrupted whispers while coughing and spitting blood.

Ahmed had no other choice but to leave his comrade and flee, he could hear dimly the voices of the group that came on foot to look for them. He took his comrade's personal effects and crawled to the nearest grove, and only there he stood up and started to run away from the junction and his wounded comrade.

A    group of five Turkish soldiers reached the wounded Majid.

'Who are you?' Their commander asked him in Turkish.

'Please help me I'm a Syrian refugee, I stole that bike…'

'What did he say?' Their commander asked the one among his men that speaks Arabic.

'He says that he's a Syrian refugee and he stole that bike to flee with it from the daily bombardment.'

'But how did he cross the border with the bike?'

Majid was not able to answer the question, he lost consciousness and was on the brink of death.

'He's dead sir, well he's still breathing but he's unconscious.'

'Shoot him in the head then to make his death a sure thing, and let's take the bike.' His commander ordered him.

The order was obeyed with a shot in Majid's forehead, and that was the bitter end of Abu Mohammed al-Adnani, the Islamic State ex spokesman.

'What a stroke of luck the bike isn't damaged, well let's take it with us and sell it; it's worth a good sum of money, we'll divide the sum between us in accordance is everyone's rank of course.'

'What about the corpse sir?'

'Let him rot, let him feed the jackals, but search his body he surely has some money on him.'

'He's got a Syrian passport on him too sir.' Another remarked excitedly.

'Give it me it we'll sell it too, there're enough refugees that are looking desperately for a genuine passport.'

'I've found his money belt, it's puffed up with American dollars sir!' The corporal exclaimed excitedly.

'Pull it off him and let's see how much we gained, we'll share it between us and keep our mouths tight shut. If anyone would open his trap, he'll end up feeding the jackals just like this unlucky moron.'

© Haim Kadman 2016 " all rights reserved.