Precipice by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2013-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Outside Mobile, Alabama

Vahid Rahimi backhanded the prostitute. She fell against the edge of the bed and landed on the stained carpet, where she began to whimper pitiably. He raised his hand as if he would strike her again and then decided not to bother.

American whores, he thought, sneering. You cannot tell one from the rest of the inhabitants of this godless land.

His temper had little to do with whether the woman pleased him. Four more of her ilk were here in the rented house, far from where prying eyes or listening ears could detect any sign that something might be amiss. Although how the Americans could detect what was or wasn’t amiss was anyone’s guess. They lived in filth and misery. They were the epitome of decadence. Nothing about them was free of decay, free of corruption. He would gladly see the entire country destroyed, burned to glass by nuclear weapons. He lived for the day that Iran held the power to be able to achieve that.

Rahimi held no illusions about his nation’s own status compared to the West. State control of the economy, and mismanagement of economic policy, had left many in Iran out of work. The private sector was a sham, a joke, confined to small workshops and farms. Subsidies and other price controls squeezed any hope of growth from what little economic activity did occur. All of the government officials, including those responsible for economic monitoring, were corrupt.

Vahid Rahimi had been born with a mottled white birthmark staining his face. His mother had seen it as a mark of his ungodliness, as punishment from Allah. She had been ashamed of him from birth, even abandoning him for a time before finally relenting and agreeing to feed and clothe him. His growth had been affected by that early malnutrition. One of his legs was shorter than the other. He wore an insert in his right boot to compensate.

His early childhood had been horrific. He was aware of this and acknowledged it, but it was not as if he would permit himself to lie awake at night thinking about it. His mother had taken to flogging him every day with a heavy belt, one of his father’s old ones. His father, too, would beat him, but with his fists, as if Vahid were a man. Some part of Rahimi appreciated that distinction. It was bad enough to be beaten as a man. It was far worse to be flogged by a woman who held no respect for you, simply because of an accident at birth.

Rahimi had never once thought he was punished by Allah, except to give him the parents he had. A birthmark was a birthmark. His mother was old and stupid, his father a brute who thought only to do as his wife told him. From his early teens Rahimi realized he had no use for either of them.

So he had formed a plan.

He had stolen money whenever possible. He had cached, in an old book bag in the rafters of a nearby abandoned shop, whatever supplies he could.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.