“Smuggled from where?”
“Egypt mainly. Some does get through from Israel but not much. In Rafah, which is where I’m taking us now there are smugglers tunnels that go deep into Egypt. Everything is brought in through them.”
“Including weapons?”
“Yeah probably. Though they’d never admit it.”
“What if the government found out?”
Dennis raised his eyebrows at her.
“Oh I see. They already know.”
A police car going in the opposite direction slowed to almost a stop as it passed them. All three officers in the car were staring at them. Dennis glanced across at them.
“You see, we’re already drawing attention to ourselves.”
The next time he looked over the driver appeared to be getting ready to perform a u-turn in the road and come over to them. Dennis quickly put the defender into first gear and rejoined the road.
Thirty minutes later Dennis turned off this road and began heading towards the Egyptain border again. The tarmac road ended and turned to sand, terrain more suited to the land rover. Ahead they could see the beginnings of ruined buildings, houses, huge mounds of earth, large earth moving vehicles and the tarpaulins of makeshift camps.
“Where the hell are we now?” Hutchinson said.
“It looks like a building site,” Natalie added.
“More like a refugee camp,” Hutchinson put in.
“You’re both wrong,” Dennis said stopping the land rover next to a man in a green khaki army uniform and carrying an AK-47 Kalashnikov. Dennis wound his window down and greeted the man who looked through the windows at Dennis’ companions. He and Dennis exchanged a few sentences in Arabic then the armed man nodded and stepped back. Dennis did his window up and then turned to Natalie and Hutchinson.
“Welcome to the smuggling capital of Gaza.”
They drove on past buildings several storeys high, some just ruined hulks of masonry, many exposing the scars of bullet holes and fire damage, others, amazingly looked finished, complete with doors and windows. Ahead was a tall guard tower proudly displaying the Palestinian flag.
“There are over twelve hundred tunnels here,” Dennis said as they drove past row upon row of tents, “The tunnels burrow under the border and into Egypt. The Egyptian government has, since 2009, been trying to close them but they’re fighting a losing battle. For every one they are able to destroy another ten open up. They are mainly under the tents and tarpaulins. Some are under the floors of houses. There are also loads of them out under those olive groves over there.”
Natalie and Hutchinson were amazed at what they saw as they drove through what was clearly a huge well organised, precise, operation, on a massive scale.
They passed a black Mitsubishi warrior pick up truck filled with police.
“Uh Pete,” Hutchinson said, pointing out the officers.
“Relax. This is state sanctioned smuggling. There is nothing secretive about what goes on here. Every one of the smugglers pays a tax to Hamas to keep his tunnel open.”
“It’s absolutely unbelievable,” Hutchinson said.
“It’s a fight for survival. For some it’s their only way of life. On average three a week are killed by Israeli or Egyptian attacks or just tunnel collapses.”
“Why do they do it?”
“For them the money is good. A successful smuggler can earn twenty five dollars per day. Without the risks they take and the smuggling Gaza would die.”
Dennis brought the land rover to a halt by a large block of houses with armed guards with machine guns patrolling outside. A large dog ran up and started barking at Dennis as he got slowly out of the vehicle. The dog ran off in the opposite direction. Natalie and Jim joined him. The guards were watching the three. Dennis waved at one of them and the man put his hand up in reponse, his manner not unfriendly. Dennis took the briefcase containing the cash from Hutchinson.
“Stay close to me,” Dennis said to his companions. He could see that Natalie was nervous but she smiled at him and followed a few paces behind. Hutchinson couldn’t take his eyes off a boy of about eight years old who was running around playing a game with other boys while brandishing a handgun.
“Jesus,” Hutchinson said, “I hope that thing isn’t loaded.”
To his relief it wasn’t. He watched as the boy caught another about the same age and pinned him against the wall, levelled the gun at the other boys head and pulled the trigger. The gun was then lowered and handed to the other boy who now became the ’you’re it’ as the game of tag continued and the children ran off laughing.
Dennis greeted the armed men at the door, exchanging pleasantries with them before he was allowed in. The three of them were quickly patted down for concealed weapons while one man watched. Dennis opened the case briefly to show the guards what was inside and he was allowed to pass. Natalie and Hutchinson followed him in. The man who had watched leading the way.
The interior of the large house was plain, the walls whitewashed. They passed many rooms that had beds in them. They climbed a flight of stairs. There were two armed guards at the top and they moved out of the way, their faces stony. They turned a corner and entered a large lounge, the entire floor space of the first floor. There were huge French doors that led out onto a large balcony and patio area. Armed guards paced up and down the well furnished patio.
A large rug covered the centre of the lounge floor, on it a large coffee table. Three large sofas filled the room, large enough to seat five people each. There were only three sitting though. Two men sitting opposite each other were smoking cigarettes. On the sofa with its back to the French doors sat a huge man wearing a red beret and british army woodland camouflage. His eyes were concealed by a very expensive pair of ray ban sunglasses. The lower part of his face was concealed by a huge bushy black beard with flecks of grey in it. In front of this man, on the coffee table, was an AK-74M Kalashnikov assault rifle equipped with a GP30 40mm grenade launcher attached.
All conversation on the sofas stopped as the three visitors approached. The two men facing each didn’t move. They both wore ammunition belts around their waists and both had handguns within easy reach in holsters on the hips. One sat casually with his arm draped over the back of a sofa and he nodded at Dennis and grinned at Natalie exposing a mouth of gold teeth.
The big man in the camouflage suddenly jumped to his feet and strode around the table to greet Dennis.
Dennis spoke first, aware of the certain etiquette required.
“Salaam Alaykum,” he said using the Arabic greeting.
Khalil Al Massri towered over Dennis.
“Salaam,” the big man replied using the lesser greeting. Then he looked to Dennis’ companions and smiled at them both.
“This is Natalie Feltham and Jim Hutchinson,” Dennis said introducing them.
“Salaam,” Hutchinson greeted Al Massri.
“Salaam.”
Natalie not understanding the etiquette involved just said.
“Hi.”
Al Massri flashed her his strong white teeth. He was keen to find out what Dennis wanted but he put this aside to continue the Arab custom of welcoming someone into his home.
“Would you care for some mint tea?”
“Yes thank you,” Dennis answered for them all.
Al Massri spoke rapidly to a man lurking by the door who nodded and left to make the sweet tea that should never be refused when offered. The two men on the sofas were dismissed and they got up and moved to an opposite wall each and stood with arms folded and watched. Al massri had decided to wait for the tea to arrive before getting down to business. He invited the visitors to sit, taking his sofa to himself.
“So tell me my friend. How long has it been?”