“What was that about not needing passports. Already taken care of. How are we going to get guns through Israel and into the west bank?”
Dennis knew that the time had come. He reached into his jeans back pocket and pulled out three passports, opened them one at a time and handed one to Hutchinson who looked at the writing on the front.
“These are Australian?”
Dennis nodded and pointed at his girlfriend.
“Meet the new head of the British red cross in Palestine. Miss Natalie Feltham.”
“What?”
“Natalie is travelling under her own name but now she is a top aid worker with the red cross.”
Hutchinson couldn’t believe his ears. He knew he wasn’t going to like the next answer.
“And we are?” he asked looking at his own photograph in his forged passport.
“We are private military contractors or PMC’s as they’re known for short. We are working for an Australian security company called utility resources group. We are based in Dubai. We’re her bodyguards and because I speak Arabic I am also her interpretor.”
Hutchinson was speechless. Dennis knew his plan was brilliant. Finally Hutchinson asked.
“How were you able to arrange this without us getting wind of it?”
Before Dennis was able to answer the american said.
“That afternoon in Alexandria, when Natalie said she wasn’t feeling well and you said you had business and were gone all afternoon. You did it then didn’t you.”
Hutchinson suddenly saw red.
“You’re going to get us fucking killed!”
Dennis grabbed his arm and pulled him in close.
“Do you want to keep your voice down,” Dennis said looking anxiously at Al Massri.
The bearded man had heard and had stopped and was now facing back in their direction.
“Is everything alright.”
Natalie had almost caught up to Al Massri and she looked back, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.
“Yeah fine!” Dennis yelled back.
“For fuck’s sake don’t do this now Jim.”
“I wish you’d include me in everything Pete.”
“I didn’t want to tell you back in Egypt in case you reacted as you just have. I didn’t want you to pull out.”
“We probably should.”
“No way. We are in way deep. Remember the spear. That’s what we’ve come after. Don’t forget that.”
“I haven’t forgotten and I’m not going to quit. From now on I want to be included in everything okay. No more secrets.”
Dennis shook Hutchinson’s hand.
“From now on. I pomise.”
Al Massri was still watching them.
“It’s alright!” Dennis shouted, “We’re just discussing the deal.”
He waved to show all was alright. Al Massri glanced at Natalie.
“I can’t stop thinking about that poor child,” she said.
“There are thousands like her.”
“I expect Israel has just as many.”
She hadn’t meant to say it out loud and she cursed the slip. She saw Al Massri’s face flush with anger.
“I’m sorry I meant no disrespect.”
His voice was flinty and cruel.
“Do you know how many childen have died because of Israel? Tens of thousands,” he said before giving Natalie a chance to answer. “Do you know how much land Israel has stolen from my country since 1948. Or how many refugees have been created? Over one million people have been driven from their homes, their lands, their livelihoods. My own grandfather used to work in Israel, for thirty years he worked there. Then one day he was kicked out and a wall was built. He died a poor, broken man….”
“I’m sorry. Please forget what I said.”
Al Massri knew the girl would never understand. He felt some of the anger leave him.
“Because this is your first time here and you are ignorant of our problems you are forgiven.”
Dennis and Hutchinson rejoined them. Dennis saw the look on his girlfriends face.
“Everything alright?” he asked.
“I was just telling your friend about the conditions in the refugee camps here in Palestine.”
“Horrible places,” Dennis agreed.
Al Massri ordered them onward. After a few minutes more they approached a large covered area. It was swarming with men wearing a variety of camouflage, some green, some desert, some mixed, green jackets and desert trousers or the other way round. More than once Dennis saw an american or british flag on a sleeve. Every man here wore a black balaclava that completely covered their face, leaving only eyes and noses exposed. Some wore, on their foreheads, green banners with white Arabic writing. Each man wore a military tactical assault vest over their jacket that held large knives, handguns, flashlights, spare ammunition and grenades. All carried AK-47’s. Three carried RPG’s slung across their backs. They all greeted Al Massri as a group.
“Jesus Pete. These guys look serious.”
“You’d better believe it,” Dennis moved closer to Natalie and said in a low voice so as not to be heard, “You went pale earlier. What did he say to you?”
“He was saying about how his people have suffered and I just said I’m sure Israel has too.”
Dennis winced.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that there are two sides to every story and that surely Israel has one to tell also. Doesn’t it?”
“Yes it does,” Dennis made sure both Natalie and Hutchinson could hear him, “I warned you both to be careful about what you say. People have died for less. Remember we’re only alive still because he respects the work I did here. Offend him and he’ll have our throats cut as soon as look at us.”
“I thought you said he was a kind of friend,” Hutchinson added.
Dennis shook his head.
“His religion does not allow it. He will trade with us because trade is for the good of all but that’s as far as it goes. We cannot be friends, it is not permitted. I think it would be best from now on if you only asked relevant questions about the guns. Okay? Leave the talking to me.”
Al Massri led them in under the large canopy, which was a dozen tarpaulins tied together. There was a large square table in the centre and a man was opening boxes of communications equipment and inspecting it. It was hot under cover and Dennis felt the sweat trickling down his back. The air was thin and a constant trail of dust drifted past. Al Massri threw out his arms.
“What do you want?”
“We need a machine gun each, sidearms, vests….” Dennis looked Hutchinson up and down, “He needs clothes. Do you want a sidearm?” he asked Natalie. She shrugged. “Give her a sidearm. Oh and we’ll want some thigh holsters. Flashlights. Let me think a minute. We brought some food with us. We’ll think about provisions in a minute. Let’s start with weapons.”
Al Massri grabbed a crowbar and began opening some crates.
“For assault rifles we have AR-15’s, FN FAL’s, AK’s….”
“AR-15,” Dennis said, “Give us two of those.”
Al Massri took two of the American machine guns out of the crate and threw one to Dennis and one to Hutchinson, who hefted it in his hand.
“Not too heavy, “ he said, “Is it a good weapon?”
“Very,” Dennis replied.
“Extra ammunition?” Al Massri asked.
“What do they come with?”
“One clip each of thirty rounds in an extended mag.”
“We’ll take two hundred rounds each.”
Al Massri nodded at one of his men to sort the extra ammunition.
“Sidearms?”
“Something easy to use.”
Al Massri threw a gun over. Dennis caught it and turned it over in his hand.
“Sig-pro! Nice,” he said inspecting the German-Swiss made handgun, “These are used by police forces around the world.”