Indira Jackson
Rayan - Son of the Desert
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Inhaltsverzeichnis
Titel
Preamble
2014 – Flight from Munich to Dubai – Killing time
2014 – Airport of Dubai – Coincidence or fate?
2014 - Dubai – Hot rage
1987 - Zarifa – Break-up
1989 - Zarifa – The beginning of the end
1989 - Zarifa – A merciless day
1989 - Zarifa - A brief reunion
2014 – Prison of Dubai – Thoughts of a break-way
2014 - Hotel room in Dubai - Desert wind
1989 - Zarifa – The escape
2014 – Prison of Dubai – The break-out
2014 - Dubai – The Colonel
1989 - Zarifa – Shattered future
2014 - Dubai – Carrying the scent
2014 - Dubai – A lawyer of all things
1989 - Zarifa – A forlorn way
2014 - Dubai – A new path
2014 - Dubai – Unexpected help
1990 - Rabea Akbar – A new hierarchy
1990 - Rabea Akbar - Clara
2014 – In the desert near Dubai – A horrible discovery
2014 - Rub’al Khali, Oasis Wahi – Meeting in the Oasis
1990 - Rabea Akbar – All dams burst
2014 - Rub’al Khali, Oasis Wahi - Don’t shoot the messenger
1991 - Rabea Akbar – Bloody revenge
2014 - Oasis Wahi - Pride
1991 - Rabea Akbar – Morning dawn
1991 - Rabea Akbar – The interrogation
2014 - Oasis Wahi – A clever solution
1991 - Rabea Akbar – A surprising encounter
2014 - Oasis Wahi – The punishment
1991 - Rabea Akbar – Shadows of the past
2014 - Oasis Wahi – The decampment
2014 - Rub’al Khali - Heroism
1991 - Rabea Akbar – Family bonds
1991 - Rabea Akbar – Start of the formation
2014 - Rub’al Khali – Carina: On duty
2014 - Rub’al Khali – Rayan: On duty
2014 - Rub‘ al Khali – Just to hang on
2014 - Rub’al Khali – The collapse
2014 - Rub’al Khali - Air transport
1991 - Rabea Akbar – Lone wolf
1991 - Rabea Akbar - Desert training
2014 – Hospital of Alessia – Waking-up
2014 – Hospital of Alessia – A new plan is needed
1991 – Army hospital: Base Rabea Akbar - Team spirit
1990s - Base Rabea Akbar and worldwide – special values
2014 – Hospital of Alessia - Tricked
2001 - Zarifa – Meeting after a lot of years
2014 - Alessia - Preferences
2001 - Zarifa – Return to Zarifa
2014 – Hospital of Alessia – An open talk
2001 – Great valley of Zarifa – Shadows in the dark
2014 – Hospital of Alessia – Instructional weeks
2001 – Valley of Zarifa - Unmasked
2001 – Valley of Zarifa – Delivery of a traitor
2014 - Alessia – The allowance
2001 – Valley of Zarifa – Hanif: Mixed emotions
2014 - Alessia – On the way to Zarifa
2014 - Rub‘al Khali – On the way
2001 – Valley of Zarifa – The interrogation
2001 – Valley of Zarifa – Hanif: shifting attitude
2001 – Valley of Zarifa – The Story of a Gambler
2014 - Rub’al Khali, Oasis Sabya – Surprising invitation
2014 - Oasis of Sabya – The transformation
2001 - Oasis at the feet of Zarifa - Counter measurements
2001 - Rub’al Khali – The scout
2014 - Oasis of Tayma – A displeasing host
2014 - Oasis of Tayma – The definition of honour
2014 - Oasis of Tayma – How to solve a problem
2014 - Oasis of Tayma - Property
2001 - Oasis of Farah – The message is received
2014 - Oasis of Tayma – More Problems
2014 - Oasis of Tayma – A Compliment
2014 - Oasis of Tayma – Farewell from Jamila
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Unexpected support
1998 - Rabea Akbar – A new start
2014 - Oasis of Tayma – Departure from Tayma
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa - Hanif
2014 - Rub’al Khali – The attack
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Defeat of the Banu Shams
2014 - Rub’al Khali - Hanif
2014 - Rub’al Khali - Jassim
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Every cloud has a silver lining
2014 - Rub’al Khali - Rayan
2001 – Camp in front of Zarifa – Visit in the dark
2014 - Rub’al Khali - Aftermath
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Meeting at midnight
2014 - Zarifa – Finally arrived
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Visit of the field hospital
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – The riddle’s solution
2014 - Oasis of Zarifa – Arrival to the oasis
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Turning point
2014 - Zarifa – New facets
2014 - Valley of Zarifa – Finally arrived
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa - Hanif: Blindness
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa - Sedat
2014 - Valley of Zarifa - Luxury accommodation
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Payment of a very old debt
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – The adoptive mother
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Shadows of the past
2014 – Valley of Zarifa - Houseguest
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – The impact of the truth
2014 – Valley of Zarifa - House tour
2014 – Valley of Zarifa - Daoud’s arrival
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa - Lifelong
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – The office
2014 – Valley of Zarifa - Entrance
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – The oath of loyalty
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – The excursion
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – An unfamiliar situation
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – View into the past
2014 - Oasis of Zarifa – The decision
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – A new start
2001 - Oasis of Zarifa – Breakaway into a new life
2001 – Valley of Zarifa – The assignation
2014 – Valley of Zarifa - Sensations
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – Victory over the pride
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – One riddle solved another one looms
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – Weapon training
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – Return and Farewell
2014 – Valley of Zarifa - Blackmail
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – Question upon Question
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – Effective white lie
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – Preparations for a relief operation
2014 – Valley of Zarifa – Icy farewell
Name and location index
About the Author
Impressum neobooks
Indira.jackson@web.de
All rights remain with the author.
Dear reader,
My intention is to draw you into a story full of tension. I am aiming to capture your imagination by the world of Rayan. For that reason all names, persons and also most of the places are pure fiction. Any similarities to real persons or historic events are coincidental and were on no account done intentionally.
I really hope that Rayan will bring you the same amount of entertainment that he brought to me whilst writing the story. May you find his life as thrilling and fascinating as I do.
Thanks to my husband who succeeded in convincing me to publish the book. Also I would like to thank Hannah, Tina and Geoff who did a great job helping me with the English translation.
Indira Jackson
Rayan strolled along the aisle of the plane. He was bored. It was already the fourth time that he had gone back and forth – fortunately he had already survived two-thirds of the flight time. He just hated regular flights!
His jet suffered some technical defect in Munich, which would have taken too long to repair for him to wait and so he booked a first-class-flight at short notice. The eight first class seats of Lufthansa’s A330-300 gave you the uppermost amount of luxury, which one could find on a regular flight, yet it was a totally different world to fly with your own private jet.
One could almost get the same amount of relaxation out of the comfortable reclining seats of the Airbus as within his Learjet. However, the presence of that many people in the narrow space of the cabin was enough to test his patience.
This feeling was intensified when thinking about the 48 Business-Class travellers. Whereas for the 161 passengers that had to "struggle along“ and squeeze themselves in the regular class, he almost felt sorry for them.
He had just reached the end of the aisle of the plane again, when the captain asked everybody aboard to fasten their seatbelts. Turbulence!
Rayan was on the way to get back to his own seat at the very front when a petite blonde, deeply engrossed in reading a magazine, caught his attention.
It seemed to be just one of the typical tabloids, but that was not what fascinated him - it was more the content of the article that was striking: it was a report about him - another one. He had stopped caring about these reports a long time ago and the majority of newspapers were very much aware that his lawyer had the means to silence them. For most of them the subsequent legal wranglings that would arise were not worth it and, therefore, the interest of the media in him had dropped significantly. Only from time to time a smaller article would appear about him. When checking out more details, Rayan realised that the lady had made specific efforts to collect all different kinds of information from the press about him.
As the seat beside her was empty, he just could not resist the challenge – he smiled mischievously to himself. This was going to be fun and on top of this, it would help him to kill some of the remaining flight time!
"Excuse me, would you mind if I take this seat next to you for a couple of minutes? You know, the turbulence …,“ he asked in perfect German with only a slight accent, thanks to his German grandmother.
The young woman was too distracted sorting out information from the different articles, to react immediately, so he had to repeat the question. Only then did she look at him, a little confused.
“Sure. Go ahead. No problem“, she said with slight hesitation. You could read on her face that in spite of her polite words it actually was a problem, as she did not want to be interrupted. Nevertheless that did not bother Rayan at all – he realized in that moment that she had beautiful green-blue eyes, which reminded him of the colour of the forests of Germany.
Therefore he sat down and fastened the seatbelt like they had been asked to do.
"You seem to be a real fan“, he stated sneakily, pointing at her paperwork, and added: “Who is the guy? A movie star?“
Again the reply was this intense gaze that clearly told him to mind his own business. Then she looked him in the eye for a couple of seconds and Rayan was afraid she might have recognized him. However, what he saw instead was that she was attracted to him. He smiled at her and watched her icy persona melt away.
“No. You know … I am an author and I am writing a book.“ Obviously she wanted to impress him and not to be mistaken as some kind of “groupie“.
"Well isn’t that interesting?“, he said with a double meaning that only he himself could understand and added in his mind "unbelievable - now they even write books about me …“
"And who has this guy murdered to earn this kind of attention?“, he asked again provocatively.
“No one!”, she answered, sounding offended. “He is just a fascinating personality: rich - with big influence within Europe and he is also well connected to America.“
Again Rayan could suppress only with effort a smirk and thought "if only you knew… “.
He started to really enjoy this game and decided to exaggerate a little more: "Ah yes. Now I know who you are talking about. It is the guy that has invented the computer – what was his name again, Bill Gates?“
The answer was again the critical gaze from those wonderful green eyes and for a moment he was afraid he had taken the game too far.
"No, he is Arab – a real Sheikh!“, she took the effort to answer.
"I see! Oil and such? Well, no wonder he is rich“, he replied harmlessly.
Now her voice had a conspirative tone: "No. No oil! That is the curious thing: no one knows exactly where he gets his money from and, as far as I know, no one up to now has asked this question openly …“
“And that would be just what I need”, Rayan thought ironically to himself.
The following one-and-a-half hours literally flew by. He asked her questions and she shared with much enthusiasm her knowledge about “the Sheikh”.
Rayan was intrigued with how much energy she talked about "her project“ and "her book“.
He noted how she looked attractive when her emotions got the better of her. Some strands of blond hair had become loose from her ponytail and hung a little wildly around her face, which only deepened her natural charisma. She had used just a tiny bit of makeup to underline her natural beauty, so therefore he could see that her cheeks had turned red. While she described to him her ideas, using quite a lot of gestures, her green eyes flashed. He regretted mildly that unfortunately in the end she would end up in a dead-end street. Because a book about him? Absolutely ridiculous – No way!
It was his friend and bodyguard Ibrahim, with a meaningful look at his watch from afar at the front of the cabin, who reminded him that not much time was left until touchdown and that he still had to change his clothes before getting off the plane …
Consequently, he politely excused himself, thanked her for the nice conversation and said as he was leaving: "I get around a lot in the world. Who knows? Maybe I will meet your Sheikh. Then I will give him your greetings Miss …?“ "Carina, Carina Hartmann“, she said with that beautiful smile of hers.
A moment later Rayan passed by Ibrahim and went through the curtain that separated the first class from the rest of the plane.
The look from those mesmerizing dark-blue eyes had gotten under Carina’s skin so much that she realised only too late, that he had never introduced himself.
"Dear passengers, we have to ask you for your patience for a moment until a special guest has left the aircraft. Please excuse the inconvenience that this may cause you. “
Carina could hardly believe her eyes: from where she was seated she had a good view of the front exit and this special person turned out to be her new, mysterious acquaintance from first class. However, he was no longer dressed in his chic polo-neck and jacket, instead he had changed into a typical traditional Arab robe; this dark blue garment suited him incredibly! But why had he changed?
Two additional men were with him: one of them was the dark-looking guy that had stood guard at the entrance to first class. It became clear now to her that he was not his acquaintance, but rather a body-guard.
Her new friend smiled one last time at her – boldly it seemed – and then he went straight and more than a little self-confidently towards the exit.
Carina felt like she was hit by a hammer. What had just happened there? "VIP – did I miss something?“, Carina thought to herself, confused.
At this moment one of the flight attendants said quietly to her:
"Miss Hartmann? I have a personal letter from the Sheikh for you.“ From the Sheikh? Which Sheikh? Although Carina had not said this aloud, the question must have been clearly visible on her face.
Now it was the flight attendants turn to look confused: "Well, Sheikh Rayan Suekran al Medina y Nayran – you were talking to him before? Did the gentleman not introduce himself?“
HE – the Sheikh?
“Oh my god! He has made a fool out of me all this time! No wonder he had that ironic smile on this face from time to time.” Obviously the man had enjoyed himself – at her cost! Carina felt that her face was flushed red by embarrassment. However, this feeling turned quickly into hot anger.
On impulse she undid her seatbelt and jumped to her feet. Before the flight attendant even realised what was happening, Carina had run half-way through business-class to the exit. Only there she suddenly stopped: what could she do anyway? Call to him how unfair and impertinent he had been? And why was he able to speak such good German, almost without any accent?
She just refused to believe it – she went on a trip to Arabia to find out something there about the person she admired and then she sat personally next to him and did not even realise it.
Meanwhile the Sheikh had gone down the gangway where a red carpet had been rolled-out for him. A black Maybach 62S limousine was already waiting for him.
Next to the car a high-ranking officer from the Arabian police was standing and greeted him with a low bow.
Carina could not understand the words but she could clearly see that he was full of subservience.
“You would think he is afraid”, she thought with interest. Could that be true?
On both sides of the limo more officers in uniform stood straight up-right, saluting their hands in greeting. This guard of honour consisted of five men on each side. What a deployment!
A small, but quite attractive, Arab stepped out of the car and greeted the Sheikh by putting both his arms around him with great respect. They kissed each other on the cheek, as it was custom to do. On the small Arab’s face was a beaming smile, he seemed genuinely happy to see his guest.
As Carina had a better perspective of the scene due to her higher position at the door of the plane, she suddenly noticed a movement a little to the left of the aircraft. It was obviously a technician who had started to work on the Rolls-Royce turbine of the Airbus. Or wasn’t it?
Later Carina could not recall exactly what it was that had attracted her attention, but the moment she looked directly at the man he all of a sudden had a gun with silencer in his hand. He positioned himself and took aim. Oh my god! The Sheikh!
For a split-second time seemed to stand still for Carina. Why did nobody do anything? With horror she realised that she was obviously the only one that had seen the guy. Then everything happened very fast: she started to scream and almost at the same moment the man fired several bullets with his Walther P99.
What exactly Carina exclaimed she did not know, but the left one of the two body-guards reacted out of instinct: he threw himself on top of his master, dragged him to the ground and slumped down lifelessly.
After this all hell broke loose. The officers drew their weapons and started to fire at the fugitive. “Capture him alive, we need him alive!“, Carina heard the officer bellow loudly at his men. She sank down on the floor of the aircraft beside the exit – what had just happened?
Down below she saw the Sheikh kneel on the ground, his bodyguard in his arms. Someone yelled: "We need a doctor here, hurry!“
Several red splodges, which grew alarmingly in size, could be seen on the cotton of the man’s shirt. It took Carina a moment to realise that it was blood and he had obviously been hit by several bullets. She could hear the Sheikh murmur in a low voice to him and the victim smiled one last time before becoming motionless.
The German woman could not say how much time had passed – minutes? hours? – when finally an ambulance arrived at the scene.
Behind her, the other passengers were crowding around and from each window of the aircraft one could see faces. Everyone wanted to observe what had happened outside.
The second bodyguard was watching carefully now, his Glock 17 in his hand. He preferred this weapon as it had the important advantage that during a shoot-out you rarely had to re-load due to its 19 bullets; on top of that it was known for its reliability. He was searching the premises with his eyes for possible further attackers. From time to time he looked helplessly down to his colleague at his feet.
When the medics arrived they put the injured bodyguard on a stretcher, but they pronounced him dead at the scene.
At this moment the soldiers came back. They had overwhelmed the assassin and dragged him along in handcuffs.
In the meantime several additional police cars had arrived.
The Sheikh said something that Carina could not understand, but which made the officers bring the captive over to him.
As soon as the man realised this, he struggled with all his might to prevent it, he seemed to panic, almost like a trapped animal that desperately tries to fight its bonds.
Right in front of the Sheikh they brought the perpetrator to a halt. Again Carina could not hear what His Excellency was saying, but when she saw his gaze, her blood ran cold.
A chilling smile lay on his lips and a look into his eyes showed that no sign of friendliness or mercy was on his mind.
These same eyes that had affected Carina so deeply before, when there was wit and light-heartedness in them, had now changed completely. Ice-cold! The dark blue colour had transformed to an almost black. Carina was reminded of the icy dark blue of a glacier, which she had seen during her vacation in Norway.
Whatever remark it had been that the Sheikh had addressed to the assassin, his face had lost all its colour and he slumped into himself. Without resisting, he let himself be put into one of the police cars and as if by a secret command they all drove off at the same time.
The Sheikh got into the limousine and it drove very slowly over to the main building of the airport, following the ambulance.
Feeling like she had taken drugs, Carina slowly returned to her seat. In what felt like an eternity later she took her hand luggage and followed the other passengers out of the plane. They had to wait some time, until the police had secured all traces and evidence of the conflict and gave them clearance to leave.
The flight captain made an announcement over the loudspeaker but Carina did not absorb what he said. She simply could not think clearly right now.
All around her everyone else was discussing the incident, but Carina did not pay attention. She did not reply to any questions and ignored the clandestine gazes that some of the others gave her.
"Excuse me, please! Miss?“ Politely but determined, a flawlessly dressed Arab addressed her in English. Due to his strong accent she was confused for a moment whether he was really talking to her.
"Miss Carina?“ Only when hearing her name she realised that he was indeed talking to her. He bowed profoundly to her. "My name is Mazin. His Excellency, the great Sheikh Suekran al Medina y Nayran has asked me, to pay you his homage. You saved his life. Who knows what would have happened if you had not called out and warned us. We are all indebted to you and give our sincerest thanks to you! My master is never ever going to forget your act. As a sign of his eternal friendship, I have the honour that he has asked me to present to you this necklace. It shows the emblem of the Sheikh. The image of Zarifa. He has a lot of friends and influence within this country but also all over the world. Whenever you are wearing this, doors will open for you. I would advise you to always wear it, especially as long as you stay in Arabia. It will protect you. None of His Excellency’s enemies will dare to touch you and all of his friends will help you wherever they can. May Allah always guide your ways!“
Carina did not know how to react or what to say. She eyed up the man in more detail. He had also been at the scene. It was the guy that had greeted the Sheikh and embraced him right before the bullets were fired. She accepted the necklace, forced herself to thank him and was then just standing there uncertainly. "What is going to happen to the man, who … well, the assassin?“, she eventually asked more from discomfort than real interest.
"The police will take him to the prison of this city.“ His tone while saying this was so strange that she had the feeling it said nothing, but then again everything.
"And is he going to be trialled in court here as well?“ After all she was an author that was about to write a book about the target person of this criminal so she surely could not afford to miss the opportunity to follow up the process in detail.
"Naturally – what do you think?“, was the short reply. But the impression of rage and hatred in the face of the man raised her doubts. Unexpectedly the man added, more to himself than to Carina: "You have to understand, he was not just any bodyguard – he was also a friend.“ At this instant, Carina stopped short, then she realised that he was talking about the man that had been killed.
After that Mazin brought himself to continue: "Well thanks again for everything.”
And with another deep bow he disappeared into the crowd. Full of awe she regarded the necklace more closely which she was still holding in her hand. It was a fine, but obviously solid golden chain, on which an amulet was fixed. The latter was of pure gold, about four centimetres in diameter and showed a blue waterfall with a reddish sun, a silver moon and three stars carved above it. Absolutely wonderful!
She could not estimate the material value, as she did not know which kind of material the coloured image on top of the gold was, yet she sensed that the real value was priceless.
She was certain the Sheikh did not offer this kind of jewellery every day.
She put the amulet around her neck and suddenly felt hope sprout inside of her. Maybe her long journey was not in vain after all. She entered a cab that took her to her hotel.