Escape from Baghdad! Read Online Free

America!”
    â€œListen closely, Hoffman. We have intel from our informants in Sadr City,” Fowler lowered his voice. “It appears that the JAM have been tracking a certain high level member of the A-rab Republican Guard.”
    â€œHigh level?”
    â€œLunching with Saddam Hussein kind of level,” Fowler said. “Now the JAM boys had lost this character, going by the name of Col. Hamid, in a skirmish; they have reliable evidence that he was smuggled into south Ghazaliya by the insurgent Arabs a few days ago. Are you following me, soldier?”
    â€œYes, sir!”
    â€œThe name Kinza has been mentioned. He seems to be harboring this high level A-rab,” Fowler said. “It is imperative that we capture these two immediately.”
    â€œRight, captain, we need to comb the streets for them,” Hoffman jumped up. “I can get a squad together immediately!”
    â€œHoffman, sit down.”
    â€œSorry, sir,” Hoffman said.
    â€œWhy am I telling you all this?”
    â€œI don’t know, captain.”
    â€œHoffman, I have been directed by HQ to take any steps necessary to apprehend these two deadly insurgents. Gigantic steps! Extrajudicial steps!”
    Hoffman, unable to resist, relapsed back to his modus operandi for dealing with high officials. “Extraordinary, sir!”
    â€œI am transferring you to a special command, Hoffman,” Fowler said. “You know the streets; you seem to know how these A-rabs think. Capture these two miscreants, and I’ll get you a purple heart.”
    â€œRight, captain,” Hoffman said. “Serve and protect.”
    â€œSign these papers here, soldier,” Fowler thrust out a sheaf of high quality paper, wrapped in blue and red military ribbon. “You are now officially part of the Special Forces Unit, Section: Greater Ghazaliya. You report directly to me and my superior, Col. Bradley. I am sure you have heard of Col. Bradley.”
    â€œCol. Bradley, sir!”
    â€œThe man has single-handedly tamed the wild A-rabs of Baghdad,” Fowler said, his eyes glazing over. “You do not want to disappoint Col. Bradley, Hoffman.”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œSFU intelligence indicates that the JAM are desperate to get their hands on Hamid. They think he carries valuable information,” Fowler tapped his nose. “And what is valuable to Mr. Sadr is valuable to Col. Bradley. Valuable information, Hoffman. This man Hamid was with all the high ups of the old regime. This could be it, Hoffman. This could be our golden goose.”
    â€œThe big fish, sir.”
    â€œHoffman, what do you think this Hamid knows?”
    â€œEr, weapons of mass destruction?”
    â€œPrecisely, Hoffman,” Fowler scowled. “Col. Bradley believes they exist, the president believes they exist, and God himself believes they exist.”
    â€œSemper fidelis!”
    â€œHoffman, get a squad together and get your ass out there,” Fowler said. “You find us these two and some WMDs, and I’ll personally make sure there’s a Nobel Peace Prize in it for you.”

3: THE LION OF AKKAD
    A MAL OWNED AN AUTOPARTS SHOP IN THE STREET OF N AKAF, IN the very heart of the Lion’s territory. He sold tires, rims, and filters, as well as an assortment of used and new batteries. Sometimes, he had engine oil, depending on supply. The Amal empire had not prospered in the war. He had once been a rich man. He had owned two car showrooms, four spare parts dealerships, and stock in an insurance company. One of the showrooms had been obliterated by tank shells during the American liberation. The second had been mistakenly raided as a bomb factory by the Americans and subsequently looted. With profits sliding, his hitherto loyal managers had ransacked three of the four spare parts shops, absconding with the revenue and leaving behind a host of unpaid suppliers.
    The insurance company, meanwhile, had not paid.