The War Stage (The Blackout War Book 2) by Andrew Watts

Author:Andrew Watts
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Point Whiskey Publishing
Published: 2016-03-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Chase took another painkiller and guzzled water down before getting out of Waleed’s car. He was just about over his hangover from the drinking he’d done with Lisa the night before, but he needed to be completely clear-headed now.

As Chase followed Waleed into the Mall of Dubai, he could hear the Muslim call to prayer echoing over outdoor loudspeakers from a temple a few blocks away.

It was his first time here, and the mall was every bit as impressive as he had heard. As they walked inside, he passed by an indoor ice rink, a hundred-foot-high indoor waterfall, multiple luxury hotels, a train station, movie theaters, and a long line that led to tours of the tallest building in the world, the Burj Khalifa.

Tourists were everywhere. The place was packed. Lines were long, but the diverse crowds were smiling for the most part.

“Where is this meeting spot?”

Waleed pointed up ahead. “There. Let us go.”

Chase looked down a long blue tunnel. It was part of the indoor aquarium, which lay on the other side. The tunnel was all glass, rising up around him in a circle of aquamarine. Small sharks and schools of tropical fish swam over and around him.

Chase walked into the middle of the thirty-foot-long tunnel. Gorji’s assistant waited at the far side. He indicated that they should follow.

Coming out of the aquarium tunnel, the three men walked along the giant glass aquarium wall. To their left, a two-level metallic grey observation deck wrapped around the giant fish tank, the throngs of onlookers illuminated by the blue light. Those observation decks were just a part of the mall, extending from the stores nearby. To their right, the glass wall of the aquarium rose up at least fifty feet. It radiated a dancing spectrum of beautiful blues. Exotic fish, rays, and the occasional shark swam by large sections of bright coral. It was a loud scene, with children hollering and tourists talking and snapping pictures with their smartphones.

Gorji’s man walked into one of the stores on the lower level. It was a slender cigar shop. A custodian had been standing at the door, and he shut the entrance behind them, locking the door and flipping over a closed sign.

He directed Chase to the humidor room, where a skinny man with curly black hair and a rich suit perused the most expensive cigars. Gorji.

“I thought it would be just you,” Gorji said, not yet looking at Chase or Waleed.

He spoke in polished English. His assistant had closed the door behind them. Waleed, Chase, and Mr. Ahmad Gorji of the Islamic Republic of Iran stood alone in the humidor room. Cigar boxes were stacked up in rows, four high.

Chase said, “Mr. Waleed Hajjar is working with me on this.”

Gorji turned to look at them. “He is UAE intelligence. They can’t be trusted.” He selected a long, thick cigar and held it up to his nostrils, inhaling deeply.

Waleed was smiling widely. So was Gorji.

Chase said, “What’s going on?”

Waleed and Gorji embraced and then began speaking rapidly in Arabic.

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