Basma was going to take a small percentage for her refuge, and administer the rest for Magreb's widow. She'd promised to make sure the four boys received the education the silly fucker had been so passionate about. They'd be doctors one day, maybe.
Everyone's future seemed secure. Except mine. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but I'd have to get my skates on. My invoice to Moira for helping Dom with his Kabul research was still in dispute, and I was skint.
That $50 million bounty on bin Laden's head was beginning to look awfully fucking tempting.
THE END