Threat Factor by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2010-11-08T05:00:00+00:00

JIDDU BASRA FELT CALM as he prepared for war. The first hot rush of fury had subsided in the hours since his men were killed, his khat refinery destroyed. Someone had much to answer for, but he could wait.

At least, a little while.

It would take time for all his soldiers to reach Mogadishu, driving in from outposts in the provinces of Shabelle Hoose and Shabelle Dhexe, to the south and north. When all who still remained to him were present and accounted for, all armed and ready, then he could begin the final push against his mortal enemies.

And in the meantime, he would benefit from planning.

Basra was not ready to accept the white man’s word on faith alone, but simple logic told him that Musse Guleed was the most likely in the unprovoked attack. They had been friends, once—or, at least, comrades—until Basra had realized that he could do what Guleed did, and likely do it better.

That, of course, was not the sort of thing Guleed could tolerate. He hated competition, crushed it without thinking twice. Hassan had known that, had been one of those who stood beside Guleed and helped him slay his enemies, but pride and greed had made Basra act in haste, before he was prepared.

His scars reminded him of that miscalculation every time he saw his own reflection in a windowpane or mirror, and he would not make the same mistake again. Hassan knew he was lucky to be scarred and breathing, when he might have been no more than rat-gnawed bones discarded on a rubbish heap.

His first and worst mistake had been failing to kill Guleed by stealth before the man suspected any treachery. It would have been so simple, riding in a car or loitering around headquarters, when he was alone with Guleed. Even if Hassan was there, so what?

Firing two shots was no more difficult than firing one. And with his own men in attendance to dispose of any die-hard loyalists…

But that was all behind him now. Through youthful negligence, he’d missed a golden opportunity and nearly died as a result. Only that same youth, with its natural resilience, had enabled Basra to survive when the enforcers came for him. That, and the fact that they chose pangas as their weapons in a bid to make him suffer.

So he had, indeed. But he had suffered and survived, while Guleed’s executioners were slain as much by arrogance as by the hideout pistol he had reached in time to save his right eye and his life.

Since then, Guleed and Basra had existed in a state of endless warfare. Basra’s army was outnumbered, but the nature of their conflict—fought guerrilla-style, without pitched battles that might prove decisive—kept Guleed from using numbers to their best advantage. Basra had survived seven direct attempts upon his life, ranging from sniper fire to poison, and his men had stalked Guleed in vain, missing the lucky pig no fewer than a dozen times, so far.

This time, Basra assured himself, it would be different.

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