Rayan - Son of the Desert E-Book

Indira Jackson

• Herausgeber: neobooks
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Serie: Rayan
• Sprache: Deutsch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 639

Beschreibung

"Rayan - Son of the Desert" describes the fascinating life of Sheikh Rayan Ibn Sedat Suekran al Medina y Nayran. The exciting plot, brimming with action, begins in the present day, where Rayan, a powerful and revered ruler, is fighting his enemies as they threaten to cut his life short. Formed from an upbringing of hostility and savagery, the sheikh repels the onslaughts with an honour and bravery that is intertwined with merciless brutality. And yet as this barbaric world rages on around him Rayan finds himself in a surrounding that is even more hostile and unknown to him: one of romance and love. Meeting a woman unlike any he has previously encountered Rayan's life begins to take a twist in a direction he could have never imagined. As the plot develops the journey leads back to his childhood and adolescence where Rayan was forced to flee his tyrannical father. Having been cast-out he barely escapes certain death through the use of a cunning yet lucky ruse and is driven into solitude. Alone, he manages to build a new life, until the past catches up with him and he realises that a destiny that he perhaps hid from himself, must once more be faced. And then there is his connection to the United States … Carina Hartmann is a modern woman from Munich, drawn to Arabia by her fascination into the story behind the sheikh. Torn between her revulsion for the cruelties which she witnesses and the unbounded attraction she has towards the handsome ruler, Carina is unable to shake herself free from this unfamiliar world until she has reached her objective: the legendary Zarifa, the homeland of Rayan. The adventure continues in the sequels "Rayan - Between two worlds", "Rayan - In the Eye of the Storm", "Rayan - The Sting of the Scorpion", "Rayan - The Blood of Zarifa" and "Rayan - In the Light of Revenge" (All of them available only in German language).

Leseprobe

Indira Jackson

Rayan - Son of the Desert

Dieses ebook wurde erstellt bei

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

Preamble

[email protected]

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

2014 – Flight from Munich to Dubai – Killing time

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.

2014 – Airport of Dubai – Coincidence or fate?

"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.

2014 - Dubai – Hot rage

Rayan was agitated and most of all he was full of rage.

Ibrahim had grown up with him and had saved him from all kinds of trouble in the past.

Back then, after he had run away from home, it was Ibrahim who was there for him. He was also the one who had succeeded in saving Rayan’s life when he had narrowly gotten away from his father’s bloodhounds.

On top of that it had been an honour for him, over all the years, to protect the life of his friend and Sheikh.

Rayan knew that Ibrahim was very religious. As it became clear that his friend was going to die, the Sheikh whispered to him that he had saved his life and, therefore, he was a hero who would be rewarded in paradise.

Rayan resolved that he would personally take care, that everyone in Zarifa would speak Ibrahim’s name with great respect and veneration.

In response Ibrahim had smiled and then died in his arms. What else could he have told him?

And why had that incompetent Colonel Abboud no control over his troops? Where had the assassin come from? He was bound to have had support from someone from the ground crew. There was no other explanation.

It was visible that the Colonel was afraid when he asked him these questions inside the airport. "He has every reason to be!“, Rayan thought without any compassion.

The Colonel had hoped for a festive welcome and to make a good impression of his team: now it was a disaster. He promised to put his best men on the investigation. As if that would lead to anything! Rayan calmed himself down a bit: they still had the assassin – this guy was going to tell them every tiny bit of detail, one way or the other. Sooner or later. If he wanted to or not. But it would by no means be the staff of the Colonel that would interrogate him, oh no! This was a matter of his own tribe, his own loyal men. Rayan had already seen to it that everything necessary was being arranged.

1987 - Zarifa – Break-up

The sun stood almost vertical in the blue sky and was burning down on them with brutal force. Everyone was happy therefore, as soon as they could find a place in the shade.

Breathing heavily, Rayan looked back on the running track he had just covered. He was content with himself: he had succeeded to finish the course faster than any of the other kids.

This was his personal best time. Surely his father, the Sheikh Sedat Suekran, would be proud this time.

The running track was about five kilometres and was originally built for training the fighters of His Excellency.

It consisted of several obstacles that had to be surmounted: there was a steep face, then a rope to be climbed up, in order to swing over to a tree and a wooden frame which you had to crawl under by using your elbows and things like that.

But most of all your time was critical, so you had to cover the distance by running. This was made more challenging by several obstacles that had to be jumped over.

There was also, and not to be forgotten, the four break points, at which a variety of weapons had to be used for training purposes: throwing knives, archery, handguns and rifles.

It started some time ago with only two exercises, but it had grown over time and had resulted in the now existing running track.

Within two years the Sheikh introduced the rule that all boys together, once a month, got a day off from lessons at school in order to prove their ability on the running track.

Officially it was something you could choose to do voluntarily.

Yet all the boys felt compelled to participate so that they would not be the target of mockery from the others afterwards.

Rayan looked forward to it every month; he just loved the track as he was able to run fast and he was agile.

It was not as if he would have a choice anyway. As the son of the Sheikh he had to participate, no matter what. Additionally to these monthly competitions, his father insisted that he trained daily.

Rayan was 13 and for his age he was relatively tall at almost 1,70 m and the training had already provided him with some muscles .

With his dark hair, which was almost black and only shone dark brown in direct sunlight, and his dark blue eyes he was a fairly attractive guy. At this point you could figure out already that when grown up he would be able to twist lots of women around his little finger effortlessly.

 His Excellency himself was also slim and tall. The colour of Rayan’s hair had clearly been inherited from him, but his father had deep black eyes, which had already taught many people to fear him. He might have been 50 or even a little bit older: it was difficult to estimate his age because the skin on his face had a leathery consistency due to being tanned by many hours in the sun. Still sweating heavily and with a bright red face from exhaustion, Rayan ran over to his father, who waited near the entrance of the running track, together with all the other men, for the arrival of the boys.

The moment he saw the expression on his father’s face he grew nervous. He did not have to wait long, as instead of the proud greetings Rayan had expected, the words of the Sheikh caught him like a hammer:

"What exactly was that supposed to be? You have just hit two out of 14 targets. Why do you never take any single task seriously which is assigned to you? You are not a child that can afford to fool around anymore! You will go right now and train for one hour at the shooting range. And tonight you will muck out the stables. No dinner for you.”

Rayan stood there thunderstruck. Instead of being praised like he had expected, he was told off – again – this time in front of all his friends and – worse – in front of all the men.

And to have to clean up the stables? His father was well aware that the boys from his group were planning to go out tonight on an excursion to the little pond outside of the valley. Well, it seems like he could forget about that, again! His father seemed to be an expert at picking out all the occasions he was bound to have some fun; it was just like he wanted to deliberately prevent him having enjoyment.

This thought raised his anger and all he felt was burning rage. It was so unfair. Before he realised what he was about to do, he had started yelling. He had no clear idea what he was calling at his father, but for the first time ever, he just had to let off steam.

It should have been a warning that the face of his father was getting darker with every word he said.

But he just could not stop. It was like a raging flood as soon as the dam was down. He had suffered too long already from frustration; too much was piled up all inside of him.

Then, suddenly, the smack hit him. In the middle of his right cheek and with a force that tossed him to the ground.

At first he did not know what had happened to him, but then he realised that his father had slapped him with all his might.

Warm blood ran down his cheek, his father’s ruby ring seemed to have cut into his skin, right underneath his right eye.

"You will do exactly what I tell you to do. And tomorrow morning we will talk about this behaviour of yours.”

“To talk” would mean that he was going to order his personal servant to hit Rayan with the leather belt - that much was clear to him immediately. The cold rage in his eyes promised him that this time it was going to be worse than ever.

Shortly some doubts welled up inside of Rayan – had he gone too far this time? His father had never hit him before, that is what the servants were here for.

While he was thinking his options through, he suddenly felt a hatred so strong, that he was shocked by his own emotions.

He could never do anything right, no matter how hard he tried. He was never praised, as what he did was never good enough. Everything had to be even better or faster.

For too long already he had outperformed all his friends in many of the sporting exercises; even in weaponry like archery, throwing knives and setting up of traps he was one of the best. Especially when throwing a knife, no one had a chance against him. But it was still never enough!

In spite of his extremely good results he always had to do extra laps, do additional exercises, and, on top of this, he was punished.

Pondering about that, he was already getting nervous thinking about the next morning. It was another of the treacherous punishments of his father, to always have to wait for the next day to come. This left you one long night to “prepare”. It would not be the first time that Rayan would lay in his bed without sleeping, dreading the dawn. In this moment he knew exactly what he had to do. He lifted himself up from the ground and cautiously shook his head, in order to get his vision clear.

His father had already turned away from him and gone back into the house. For him all was said and done.

Rayan did his hour of training as he was told to do, but after that he was free to go inside as well. He started to pack a few things into his backpack. He would run away from the valley tonight. And he did not intend to ever return again.

1989 - Zarifa – The beginning of the end

"Which one of you is the leader?“, the Tarman bellowed at the small group of rebels. He was a small, fat guy with mousey-grey hair. As he had a blood red scar from his left eye all over his cheek, spontaneously Rayan named him "Scarface“.

His comrades immediately started to gather around him protectively. They were all young: five men and one woman.

They knew that he was in danger, especially, because there was a death sentence on him.

"No one? Well, in that case all of you are going to be punished – by your own choice.“ With that he was going to turn around when Rayan gently pushed his friends aside.

Proudly he erected himself to his full height and before his friends could prevent it, he said: “It is me. I am the leader of this group.“

The Tarman eyed him up: "You? Such a half-portion? Well, no wonder we have caught you. It was about time:, you have played your foolish games long enough at our cost.“ He was the only one laughing at this joke.

With half-portion he was surely referring to Rayan’s age, as he was only 15. He still counted as a child and much to his own disappointment it was still more than half a year until he would turn 16 and, therefore, the age of a young man.

The time that he had spent in the wilderness of the mountains together with the other rebels had made his body harder and even more trained than it was before.

The daily activity in the open air and the many hours of training had cared for his body well: there was not one single gram of fat on him but instead pure muscle.

Additionally, he had grown again so that he measured a proud 1,82 m and it looked like he was not done with growing yet.

He had only spent a couple of days alone in the wilderness of the mountains after his escape away from the big valley of Zarifa and, more importantly, away from his father.

It was not a problem for him taking care of himself all alone. He had spent a lot of time outside since he had been a small child and he knew exactly what was essential to survive.

Then he had found the traces of the rebels and began searching for them. He remembered that he had heard his father talking about them: mostly they were people that His Excellency had banned from the big valley for one reason or another or who had fled voluntarily from his tyranny.

They had founded a settlement in the high mountain area of Zarifa, as far away as possible from their former master. It was located in a small valley and was difficult to reach, as it was in the wildest and most abandoned part of the mountains.

Old, young and even a few babies belonged to this group, which consisted of about 80 people.

With small robberies they provided themselves with essentials, which they needed to survive. The rest was provided by nature. Like this, they had created themselves their own little homeland.

The Sheikh was more than angry that they were getting along so well. His intention had been for them to live in exile lonely, starving and full of suffering.

No wonder he had declared them all as “enemies of the state and a danger to the tribe.“

He exclaimed loudly that he would not show them any mercy and indeed, when about two years ago his fighters had captured a small group of them, he had them all executed.

Even the two women that were in the team were decapitated together with the rest of them.

This enraged the previously peaceful rebels so much that they started to organise themselves in little troops, which began to attack the men of the ruler.

Though, of course, this was never openly, but always as an ambush and only when they met small groups of people.

They succeeded in killing some of the fighters, but their thirst for revenge was nowhere near being satisfied.

Rayan had not only become part of the team, but in the course of time his abilities had made him one of their leaders, in spite of his young age.

He knew how his father’s mind worked better than anyone; he had trained together with his warriors and, of course, had an astonishing insider knowledge that was incredibly helpful to them. This led the rebels to cheer and made his father’s men curse. In due course, however, it was unavoidable, that the word spread that it was him that made the rebels all of a sudden so successful.

During a temper tantrum his father swore that his son no longer existed and so was a dead person to him. In case his warriors would ever get hold of him they were not to show any mercy. They were instructed to hang him from the next tree with their own hands and make him pay for his treachery.

Scarface grabbed Rayan by the shirt and brought him back to reality. He drew him near so they were face-to-face. "Well my friend. Now is the time when you tell me where this nest of the rebels is located.“

Full of disdain Rayan spat at him in the face.

"Well, I guess that means that you are not going to tell me voluntarily, right? – I like that even better“ – and with an evil grin on his face he wiped off the saliva. Rayan’s hair suddenly stood up and he had an awful feeling that something dreadful was waiting for him. On Scarface’s signal, a second man came along and the two dragged him over to a wooden frame and bound him tightly.

Just as the sun rose over the horizon Rayan found himself with his arms tied above him to a wooden beam that was fixed between two tall trees.

Additionally they had bound both of his legs to the two trees. In this position he could still stand but he could not move. He just had to wait, with his legs spread apart, for the punishments to come that they had planned for him.

The moment they ripped his shirt from his upper body, he knew what was about to come: at exactly that moment the first lash hit him with full force.

One of the men standing behind him struck the whip mercilessly while Scarface was just standing in front of him, his arms folded on his chest, grinning broadly. The whip was made out of raw leather, so it not only created striae, but additionally breached the skin.

During the whipping Rayan had to bite his lip in order to not cry out loudly. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him whimpering. His pride would never allow that and he was well trained, as his father had never tolerated it either.

After a short while he felt blood begin to run down his spine. Yet he somehow still succeeded in making sure that no sound at all came over his lips.

After ten strikes the other man stopped, while his scarred tormentor, who had not lost his foul grin, came closer. This time he had a bucket of water in his hand: “You’re a tough one, aren’t you? Well I have succeeded in making others relent before.“

Instead of giving him a break and some refreshment, they spilled salt water all over his back.

It burned like hell on Rayan’s wounds and he was becoming sick with pain. Despite this, he still did not allow himself a single groan.

His pride, which he had inherited in such a great amount from his father, did not allow him to give his opponents the triumph of seeing his pain. He felt burning hatred inside of him, and if he was free, he would not hesitate for one second to kill the men. However, the bonds stayed tight and held him in his place so all he could do was gaze at Scarface full of fury.

Meanwhile the sun was over the horizon and spread her golden glamour over the ugly scene, as if she too wanted to mock Rayan.

"Now my friend, I will give you two hours to think about the location of the hiding place of the rebels, and after that we will continue.“

1989 - Zarifa – A merciless day

Scarface kept to his threat and had come back. The whole procedure was repeated: ten more lashes and after that the shower with salt water. Rayan was determined to hang on, until … until what? He wasn’t quite so sure anymore.

However, his natural pride kept him on his feet. He would not be defeated that easily! Furthermore, the hard lessons that his father had taught him in the past had their worth, so he was not easy to knock over.

Meanwhile he was additionally suffering due to the heat and knowing that Scarface would come back, that much was sure.

His mind worked frantically to think of something to do. Though this time, his usually quick intellect full of ideas did not present any glorious solutions on how to get himself out of this dreadful situation.

The searing pain in his arms and wrists and especially his wounded back were not helping him to think clearly.

At some time around noon he heard two of Scarface’s men whispering to each other; after a short while one of them came closer and grabbed his shirt – or rather what was left of it – at the front side and had a look at his chest.

He let out a low whistle. “Well, have a look at what it is we have here. If it isn’t a very special kind of treasure that we have found.”

"Damn it, luck really is not on my side today“, Rayan thought dejectedly – because the man had found his tattoo. As first son of the Sheikh he had received a tattoo on his chest shortly after his birth. It depicted a blue waterfall over which a reddish sun could be seen, a silver moon and three stars – the symbol of Zarifa.

The men literally ran to Scarface and only moments later they prepared their horses and rode away in a hurry. Rayan could figure out easily where they would go: for sure they wanted to get for themselves the bounty that his father had put on his head and also it was likely that they wanted to double check if he really would approve of them executing him.

Maybe this would cause enough of a distraction to give him a break? Surely they would leave him alone now until the riders came back?

However, when Scarface came back to him, one glimpse at his sadistic smile was enough to shatter his hopes into pieces.

1989 - Zarifa - A brief reunion

The sun had wandered over the sky like on any normal day and more slowly than ever the evening dawned. Rayan meanwhile was in a state in between live and death. Six times they had performed their cruel ritual; or perhaps it was even more, he was no longer able to count.

His pride had changed to silent desperation and in the meantime he was no longer able to register his whereabouts or anything else around him.

He just dangled from his bonds. Even if he wanted to tell them the location of the rebel settlement now, he would no longer have been able to cling to a single thought or to say a phrase that made any sense. It was like he was swimming in a deep sea of pain.

His friends, who were condemned to just helplessly observe his torture, were sure that the purpose of this punishment had been changed from “making him talk” to “making a statement”. Whatever that was. They had discussed desperately between each other if they should reveal the location instead of Rayan. They even considered if they should start some kind of red herring by telling them a fake place, just to make the men stop torturing their leader.

However, they came to the conclusion that all would be in vain. It would not help him anymore.

Suddenly there was movement amongst Scarface’s men.

The two messengers were about to return and they were accompanied by a noble visitor: His Excellency Sheikh Sedat Suekran al Medina y Nayran had arrived.

Scarface informed him proudly about the intensive punishment and led his master to Rayan, who was stuck unconsciously in his bonds. The ugly Tarman grabbed the chin of the defenceless Rayan and pulled him up, so his leader could look into his face to acknowledge his identity.

It was not possible to reckon what Sedat was thinking or feeling. He just confirmed with a nod that it indeed was the most wanted leader of the rebels, his former son. Then he demanded to hear more about the imprisonment.

It was hard to say if he acted consciously or not but the moment Rayan heard the voice of his father his final spirits were awoken. With effort he opened his eyes and tried to make eye-contact with his father.

Barely audible and more groaning than really articulating, he spluttered: “Father? Father help me – I am dying …”

Scarface slapped him in the face with his free hand, the one that was not holding his victim up. What boldness to address the noble Sheikh in such an informal way!

Rayan collapsed completely and plunged into a merciful unconsciousness.

There was a flash in Sedat’s eyes, which was barely visible, while his face remained motionless. Instead His Excellency said: “I am going to tell you now, how we will proceed with this scum: we will hang them tomorrow at dawn. One after the other. We will start with him”, he signaled towards Rayan.

“Then we will see if the others will continue to keep silent. Release him and take him back to his friends. Also, provide them with water, we do not want him to die before we can hang him tomorrow, do we?”

Scarface laughed bleatingly: this idea was very much to his liking. 

2014 – Prison of Dubai – Thoughts of a break-way

Ashraf was in mortal fear.

He had known from the very beginning that the job was going to be risky, yet was not able to resist the large amount of money that he had been offered.

He had calculated that the death of the Sheikh would cause so much chaos that it would enable him to slip away without any problems.

However, he had underestimated the Colonel: his troops had not reacted with their typical lethargy, but had immediately gotten on his heels.

On top of that he had failed to make even a scratch on his victim. This would not impress his client, so he could not count on any help from that side.

He was on his own that much was sure.

It was crystal clear to him that the Sheikh was deadly serious with his threat: “There is no wall thick enough to not be able to reach you and you are going to die very slowly. This is my promise.”

His blood ran cold when he just thought about that moment and those ice-cold eyes without any mercy.

The Sheikh was known to keep one hundred per cent of his promises.

Therefore, Ashraf really was a dog’s breakfast if he did not succeed in getting away soon.

The Colonel’s people had already interrogated him for hours, but that did not bother him. From time-to-time one of the officers couldn’t help himself from hitting the assassin, but they were not able to break Ashraf. He was no weakling: if he was, he would not have been chosen for the job.

He had some kind of back-up plan up his sleeve, but for this to work out it was necessary for him to be brought back to his cell. He had - thanks to Allah! - thought ahead and taken counter-measures just in case he would end up in this prison.

“Always calculate for the worst,” was his motto, which had guided him well through life so far and had helped him get out of hairy situations in the past.

Hopefully his cousin Ali would already be waiting to get him out of here. Ali was a bit of a retard, but to break him out of jail, all he had to do was follow Ashraf’s instructions, which he had given him in advance. He was smart enough to carry out the plan.

All Ashraf needed now was a little bit of patience. At least that was what he told himself to calm down.

2014 - Hotel room in Dubai - Desert wind

Carina was sitting on her bed inside her hotel room. Her meager budget had only allowed her to book a 3-star-hotel, but in spite of the simplicity of the room it was spotlessly clean and friendly, with colourful carpets on the floor as well as at the walls.

The bed had been freshly prepared as well, which was a relief as she had had bad experiences in other Arab countries before.

The bathroom next door was neat and had all the necessary conveniences.

A shower and a good dinner would help her to get rid of the dizziness. What else was she going to do here anyway?

Crap - she hated eating alone in a hotel. Therefore she decided to eat as quickly as possible and to take her wine with her to the room. That was for the best anyway because alcohol was not liked around here and was mostly just provided for the tourists.

Then she suddenly remembered the letter, which she had received from the flight attendant. In the course of events she had completely forgotten about it. She took it out of her bag, but hesitated for a moment: in one hand she turned the amulet absentmindedly around her neck, while in the other one she was holding the envelope, gazing at it attentively.

In a surprisingly beautiful, but at the same time very energetic, handwriting it said: "For Miss Carina“ – What was she waiting for? It would hardly be an invitation to visit him in Zarifa, right? She took another gulp of her wine and then opened the letter.

It contained very expensive stationery. On the heading was printed the emblem of His Excellency – in black and white – the same as on her necklace.

"Dear Miss Carina,

I really do hope that you are not too angry with me because of my deception. But when I saw that you were so absorbed by the article about me, I just could not resist.

Please find attached the address of my lawyer, who is based here in this city, as a sign of compensation. When you show him this letter he is going to answer some questions for you.

If Allah is willing, our paths will cross again one day. May he be with you and guide you on your way.

Rayan“

Further below there was a phrase in Arabic, which she could not understand. She could actually speak a few words, mostly polite, basic aspects of the language, but she could not read it at all.

She assumed that this was meant for the lawyer.

A lawyer! Of all people. But what had she expected? She decided it was best to go to bed and get some sleep. The next morning was early enough to think about her next steps.

After an exhausting day full of events, her head had barely touched the pillow when she was fast asleep. She dreamt of the desert wind, oases and the most fascinating blue eyes she had ever seen …

1989 - Zarifa – The escape

 The group of young people were gathered tightly together, all around Rayan. He had been so brave. But what for? He was in a terrible condition. They had been given water and a blanket. Sachra managed to force small amounts of water into him. She was the only woman in the group, small, petite and with her hair cut short like the men. She considered herself a warrior as well.

"If he gets a fever, he will not make it through the night. I really do not understand how his own father … what a monster!“ Tears were shimmering in her brown eyes. Her boyfriend Ibrahim replied softly: "Maybe it is for the best like that. I mean, not waking up again. Think of the pain that he would suffer. And he would not have to live through the spectacle tomorrow.“ Sachra just stared at him without a word, what could she say anyway?

About an hour before midnight she woke up because Ibrahim was gently touching her arm and said: “Believe it or not, I have found an open gate … This could be our last hope to get away.“ Sachra thought for a moment: "But it could be a trap as well, which is more likely.“ However, Ibrahim had already woken the others: "Quiet! We have to be absolutely silent.“ And to Sachra he said: "So what? if it is a trap – do I care? Tomorrow we will be dead anyway. I’d prefer to struggle with a trap, because at least then we will all die fighting.“

Their next concern was about Rayan. What could they do with him? To leave him here was not an option. “I know what we can do”, said Sachra, “his grandparents do not live far from here. We will take him to them. There he has a better chance to survive. Even if they find him there, hopefully his grandmother can save him from the Sheikh. After all, His Excellency was once her son-in-law.“ Ibrahim just needed some time to think this over, then he nodded in agreement. “It’s a good idea.“

Quietly the friends were sneaking out of the corral in which they had been put – one by one. They succeeded in quietly knocking out one of the guards.

After that they split up: three of them crept off to the north in order to make their way up to the rebel settlement. Ibrahim, Sachra and another guy in the group carried the still unconscious Rayan in the direction of his grandmother’s place. Of course the heaviest part of his body was carried by the two men.