Posted for Naris by Dorym

9/7/61: Solomon Nazir was born in a Chaldean village just outside the city of Karbala, Iraq.  His parents & two younger brothers owned a farm that the Nazir family held for 3 generations. The farms exported various spices (saffron, poppy, fenugreek, nuts & fruit.  Solomon spent his weekdays working the farm with his family. His favorite responsibility when he came of age, was hunting mountain goats that used to raid the farms fruit orchids.  He learned to shoot from the older farmhands with a hand me down Mauser Model 98 bolt-action rifle. Solomon was a natural shot & always opted to roam the farm. He was notorious for pawning his manual labor chores on his younger brothers. The Nazir family was very active in the Chaldean Catholic Church, Solomon was an altar boy at the church during weekend services throughout his childhood. As he grew of confirmation age, he participated in monthly retreats to Lake Milh. As Solomon got older, he became extremely critical of his parent’s business practices to run a profitable farm. He believed that the crop growth distribution should have a larger emphasis on Opium Poppy to accommodate increased drug use in the region. His parents would constantly be reading passages from the old & new testaments, reminding Solomon that drug use is not the Christian way.   Whenever Solomon’s patience would boil over, he would threaten his parents that he would join the Iraqi army when he turned 18. This would generally end with his mother crying & embarking on multiple hour long prayer sessions. His father tried to appease Solomon with gifts, for his birthday in 1980 he received a brand new Winchester Model 70 with a scope. Solomon never had any intention of joining the Iraqi army, he enjoyed his life.   

11/9/89: Now 28 years old, Solomon remained unmarried. He enjoyed many female companions, however he remained very selfish & not interested in settling down with anyone. Solomon was tall, skinny & handsome. His hair was black and buzzed. He had very distinct auburn colored eyes.  His parents prepared for their annual journey to the Karbala Bazaar. The entire farm was busy for weeks, roasting nuts, drying fruit & spices. The goods were then filled into burlap bags. His parents & youngest brother drove their goods in the family’s pickup truck to Karbala. Solomon always enjoyed this week of the year since he turned 18. He was the eldest brother and had the responsibility to run the farm in his parents stead. He especially enjoyed bossing his brother around and walking the farm with his rifle on his shoulder behaving like a big man. Solomon remained in constant contact with his parents for the entire week in Karbala. They would speak daily & discuss the happenings of the bazaar in detail.  He also enjoyed reminiscing the years when he traveled to the grand bazaar with his parents. He would ask his mother what the hotel was like & enjoyed listening to her describe the smell of rosewater in the rooms. As much as he enjoyed running the farm, he was always excited on the last day of the market. His parents would always bring the most amazing electronics from Asia. Solomon was very fond of playing the latest video games. His mind wandered to what sort of game or console system he would be receiving this year. He reminded his mother not to forget about his hard work tending the farm in their absence the night before they were to make the trip back to their village. The next day & the day after had come & gone. Solomon’s family has not returned from their Journey.  Solomon who was understandably worried, called the hotel for any info on his family’s whereabouts. Later that evening, Solomon received a call from the owner of a textile facility a few towns away. The man notified Solomon that his parents & brother had been robbed & murdered on their journey back. Solomon hung up the phone & completely broke down. It took several weeks for Solomon to gather himself. He sought solstice in the bible & never missed a weekend service. Solomon only believed in the various bible teachings that were convenient to his lifestyle. Upon taking over the farm, he converted the majority of the spice fields to opium poppy as he always wanted. This brought a lot of undesirable types to the farm. Solomon vowed never to attend the Karbala Bazaar again. His feeling was this would be the best way for the family farm to flourish.  The following summer, the farm had regained financial stability. Solomon would receive questionable looks at church for his business dealings, but given the circumstances of losing his parents he was still received with open arms. That summer Iraq had just invaded Kuwait, Saddam Hussein declared the country now the 19th province of Iraq. Solomon became obsessed with the current political climate of his country. Solomon remained in constant contact with his cousin Yousef in Kuwait to check on his well-being. There were rumors that Nato & the United States would soon be involved. Yousef’s family was far from the conflict area in Kuwait. A few days later, a Political ambassador from Baghdad was received at the farm. Solomon was notified that there would be a new farm tax to help finance the war. He told the ambassador that he the farm could not afford the tax & he refused to pay it. Solomon threatened the ambassador at gun point & told him never to return.  The ambassador warned Solomon that he was making a mistake & that troops would return. Solomon refused again growing more angered. The next day during mass at church there was a ground shaking explosion in a nearby area. Based on the direction of the noise, Solomon knew the explosion was in the direction of his farm. Solomon immediately raced home to see what had happened. As he approached the farm, he noticed a mustard color cloud in the air. He was unable to proceed any further, but knew his farm had been destroyed. His thoughts immediately went to his brother. He raced back to the church asking his friends if anyone had a gas mask. He was not in any luck, He returned to his farm a week later after the air cleared with some friends to assess damages. The entire farm had been wiped out between a combination chemical & incendiary explosives.  Left with nothing but what was on his person. The church held a fundraising service to help Solomon receive donations to afford transport to live with his cousin in Kuwait. 

 

The next day Solomon said his goodbyes to all his friends he grew up with. He was in a car headed to a small village outside the city of Abdali.  The car ride took about half a day and was uneventful. Solomon was completely depressed upon arriving in the extremely poor village. He asked around for Yousef Nazir and was given directions to his house.  Solomon approached the clay structure and knocked on the door. He heard footsteps from the interior running towards the door. The door opened quickly and there his cousin stood. Solomon immediately teared up as he saw the warm smile of his cousin. 

 

“Cousin” Yousef shouted with excitement.

 

Solomon just put just put his head down and moved towards an embrace with Yousef.

 

“Don’t worry bro, you’re with family now. Please come inside, let’s get you some food. I’m sure you’re exhausted from your trip, let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

Solomon sat down to a generous bowl cous cous & braised lamb, Yousef who was a very fast talker, bombarded Solomon with questions. 

Solomon went back into his head, not hearing the barrage of questions.

 

“So Yousef where is the church located in the village, I didn’t see it on my drive in.” Solomon asked.

 

“Yea, so we all converted, everyone is Muslim in the village, it’s just easier that way. None of us were ever very involved with the church to begin with. It all seemed very natural I would suggest you do the same if you want to fit in around here.”

 

“Your father converted too?” Solomon asked.

 

“Yup, like I said no one wants to be new and an outcast.”

 

“There is no way I am converting; I need you to get me a bible though. Solomon requested.

 

“That’s a tough order around here.” Yosef responded.

 

“Don’t you have an old one?”

 

“Nope, I’ll keep my eyes open though.”

 

“Thanks, I need to rest. I’m exhausted, where can go?”

 

“Of course bro. Take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch till we get another bed in here. I’ll see you in the morning.” Yousef said empathetically

 

Solomon reached under his shirt and grabs his crucifix and fell asleep during prayer. The next morning, he is awoken to the smell of coffee. He sees his Aunt Mary & Uncle Natan for the first time in years. They all share a hug. 

 

“Come Solomon, it is time for morning prayers.” His uncle announced.

 

“Thanks I think I‘m going to sit this one out, I’m still exhausted.” Solomon responded.

 

“But!” is the only word his uncle can get out before he is interrupted by his aunt.

“Of course my dear you rest some more, were looking forward to catching up with you later.” His Aunt says tenderly

 

After a few more hours of rest, Solomon is woken by Yousef rummaging through his clothing drawers. “Bro, sorry I woke you.  Here try these on they should fit, let me show you around town.”

 

Solomon nodded, “Let me grab a shower and we can go.”

 

The talk of the town is all about the Iraqi invasion. Looking around the village, Solomon was shocked how his family was content living in this poverty.  He had a hard time staying focused as Yousef was showing him notable vendors and areas in the village. Solomon became overwhelmed with anger. He was angry at himself, the Iraqi ambassador, Hussain Regime & the people responsible for his parent’s death.

 

The next morning, after he woke up. He quickly drank a cup of coffee with his family & joined them for morning prayers just before sunrise.  While kneeling on the provided prayer mat, instead of praying. He thought of revenge. After breakfast he worked with his cousin sculpting clay into bricks.  The next few days were uneventful, praying 5 times a day, eating and working with his family. The next morning right after prayers the village was abuzz with the arrival of a military transport truck.

 

Uncle Natan and some of the other men from the village, met the truck in the middle of the village. The young men watched as the group of villagers interacted with the 2 soldiers standing near the truck.  The conversation seemed cordial and brief as they watch Uncle Natan return to the house.

 

“Who are they?” Aunt Mary asked

 

“Kuwaiti Militia calling themselves “Freedom Fighters”, looking for volunteer recruits.  We told them they are in the wrong village here. We are all peaceful Muslims.” Uncle Natan replied

 

“Wow that’s crazy, no one here is getting involved in that mess.” Yousef announced.

 

“Where’s Solomon” Mary questioned

 

“There! Yousef shouted, He’s talking to those soldiers, is he crazy?” as he ran out the door

 

Solomon approached the soldiers, “I’m here to enlist.” 

 

The soldiers look at him surprised, “Didn’t think anyone here would be open to joining up. What’s your name?”

 

“Yea, I need to get out of here, my name is Naz.” 

 

“Hello Naz, do you have any noteworthy military skill?”

 

“I know how to fire a weapon, I used to be a hunter on my family’s farm.” Solomon said confidently.

 

 “Hunter eh? Ok that’s good, grab your stuff. Don’t think anyone else will be joining we will be leaving shorty.”

 

 “Bro!” Yosef shouts running over. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed. Don’t do this.”

 

Solomon moves in for a hug.   “Thank your parents for their love and hospitality. I can’t be here. I am full of vengeance; this might be my only chance to get it!  I’ll come back for you.” Solomon looked over at the soldiers, “I don’t have any belonging. I’m ready to go.”

 

Solomon jumped in the back of the truck with just the clothes on his back, joining the two older gentlemen. The truck stopped at two other villages where another 2 guys are recruited.  The truck drives 3 hours to the Kuwaiti coast, where the group of men head towards the docks and jump on a 25-foot black transport boat that has a large 50 cal. gun off the bow. 

 

The boat captain navigates through the salty marsh on a quick boat ride to a dock connected to an island. Anti-aircraft weapons were on the perimeter of the island. Another transport vehicle was parked awaiting their arrival.  

 

After a 15-minute ride, the truck arrived at its destination. An airfield & barracks right in the middle of an island off the Persian Gulf.  Upon arrival, the airfield housed two F117’s, two Apache’s & two Sea Knights helicopters. A dozen or so tents were set up around the small sized barracks with a Kuwaiti flag coming out the top of the structure.

 

Everyone who arrived was greeted with a hot meal, shower & fresh fatigues.  Throughout the day, a few more transport trucks arrived unloading more recruits. Everyone seemed to wander around. Not really sure when they would be given orders or directions. 

Right after dusk prayers, some whistles began getting blown.  Several Kuwaiti officers emerged from the barracks getting the new recruits in line & at attention.  A short and stocky dark skinned man with a megaphone welcomed everyone’s arrival.

 

“Gentlemen let me be the first to thank you for service to the country of Kuwait. My name is commander Fazouk Karimi, this is Warbah Island base and we will be leading the offensive to take our country back.”  The quick statement was responded to with a volley of cheers. 

 

“We will be bringing you all to the firing range first, to assess your combat skills. Do not worry, if you were not created for soldiering, we will find something for you to do to help the country of Kuwait become liberated.”

 

“At any time should you decide that this conflict is not for you. We will happily transport you back to the mainland.  Now you shall be taken to the firing range, group by group.”

 

Naz looked around, the base was lit by massive spot lights. Everyone formed a line towards the firing range. Groups of twelve grabbed weapons from a locker, shortly thereafter the sound of weapons being fired began and lasted for the next hour or so. 

 

Finally, at the head of the line he looked into the locker to see the various weapons. Mostly everyone was using an M16 or Car 15 automatic rifles. The officer calling “fire” seemed extremely annoyed by the poor showing of the recruits.  Mostly everyone was being escorted to the barracks, the occasional one or two from each group were being sent to a tent with an officer. Naz walked up to the weapon locker, having the first pick. He was never a fan of fully automatic weapons. He was used to precision rifles hunting back home. He saw an M14 rifle tucked in the back of the locker which drew an eyebrow raise from the shooting range officer. The officer had a shaved head, with a deep vertical scar over his right eye and dressed in all black. Naz took aim at the target, realizing he hadn’t fired a weapon since being a family farm hand back home.  Next the range officer sited.

“Ready Aim Fire!”

The loud sound of fully automatic fire echoed all around him. Naz drowned out the sound, he took a deep breath and slowly squeezed the trigger.

 

Naz was drawn quickly out of focus by words from the officer. “Take the safety off cowboy.”

 

Naz wiped the sweat from his forehead, looked at the officer & nodded his head. He gets back into the zone. Take a deep breath and squeezes the trigger again. The first shot misses to the right. Naz re-adjusts the rifle against his shoulder, he focuses his sights on the targets head. He squeezes the trigger a second time, he realizes the shot is a clear head shot. He continues to pull the trigger in rapid succession with continuous head shots. 

 

The officer looks over at Naz, “you stay here.  Where did you learn to shoot?”

 

“I learned to shoot hunting mountain goats on my family farm sir. However, I didn’t become accurate until mastering the game “duck hunt” on my Nintendo gaming system.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, what’s your name?” As the officer is waving towards someone.

 

“My name is Naz sir.”

 

“Naz, nice to meet you, I am Ziad.  He points to a man with a clipboard approaching. The man was massive.  He had dark skin, short curly black hair, pudgy cheeks and a handlebar mustache. “This is Mirac he will take you to your tent. I will come find you later to discuss your duties in detail.”

 

Naz nodded “thank your sir.”

 

Naz turned his attention to Mirac. “Nice to meet you as well sir.” Naz focused on the crest on his right breast pocket. It featured a scorpion intertwined with a scimitar. He carried a monocular around his neck and an earpiece in his right ear.

 

Mirac spoke very softly. “Mister Naz, I am not your superior. My position is to make sure you are well taken care of. If you have any needs whatsoever, please don’t hesitate to ask. Here is a short range comm. It connects to me directly. If you need anything at any hour, please feel free to contact me.”

 

“I have a lot of questions”. Naz responded quickly.

 

“I’m sorry, I have no information to provide, that is not my place.  Please see Ziad or Commander Fazouk to satiate those needs.” 

 

The 2 walked to a secluded tent, behind the main barracks. It had the highest elevation of all the tents and provided a superior vantage view of the entire air base. The two entered the tent, Naz was pleasantly surprised by his new quarters.   

 

“Can I bring you anything at this time Mr. Naz?”

 

“No I’m fine, thank you Mirac.” Naz responded.

 

“I realize you must be tired, please do not turn in for the evening till Ziad speaks with you first.”

 

“Understood.” Naz responded.

 

Naz scanned his quarters, a full sized bed, desk and 2 lockers took up most of the space. Along the opposite wall there were 2 large weapon crates, and 4 weapon briefcases. Naz inspected the writing on the two large weapons crates first.  Both had bright yellow writing in English. Next he looked over the briefcases, more English writing. He opened the locker next. Hanging on the hook were two different pairs of binoculars. A large bag sat on the floor of the locker. Naz opened the bag, there was a full suit made out of a straw colored material & full set of various colored face paints. Naz donned the suit and looked at himself in the mirror making different grunting noises trying to sound like his favorite character Chewbacca from the popular movie Star Wars. At that he heard a voice from behind him.

 

“Ahh, I see your making yourself right at home.” Ziad announced

 

“Sorry sir I didn’t hear you come in.” Naz responded

 

“That’s the idea Naz. I was very impressed with your marksmanship ability.  Have you ever fired a Barrett M82 or an M21 SWS? That Ghillie suit fits your perfectly.”

 

“Sorry sir, I have no idea what any of this stuff is. I’ve only really fired bolt action rifles and some hand guns. In fact, today was my first time shooting anything semi-automatic.”

 

“Fascinating, you’re a natural shot Naz, I’m going to teach you to be our scout sniper.  You and I will be mostly just scouting targets. Letting the aircrafts and ground forces do the heavy damage.”

 

At that, another figure entered the tent. “So Ziad this is the farm kid you were telling me about.”

 

“That’s correct; this is Naz.”

 

“Naz, pleasure to meet you, I am commander Fazouk.  Listen to Ziad he will make sure you are trained and well prepared for your missions. Well I’ll leave the two of you to it.”

 

“Understood sir, nice to meet you as well.” Naz smiled

 

Ziad looked back to Naz “Ok so at night the two of us will train together.  I will teach you stealth, camouflaging, marking targets for air strikes, small melee combat, hand guns & the use of a sniper rifle. During the day you will spend most of your time with Mirac firing your rifle at long range targets and refining your craft. During the day I will be mostly unavailable. That is my time with the commander strategizing our offensives.  All good? Great. I’m sure you want to get some rest now. Mirac will wake you before dawn to get your prayers in the morning, then to start your sniper rifle training. However, make sure you get some rest during the day. We will be working late nights to get you up to speed.”

 

“Wait!” Naz said anxiously. “I have a lot of questions.  Where did all this technology come from?” Before he could get another word out Ziad cut him off.

 

“Naz” he said sternly. All your questions will be answered in due time. We must focus on the task at hand. That is to liberate Kuwait!”

 

Naz nodded his head. “Understood sir.”

 

Naz woke the next morning to the sound of Mirac voice over the comm. “Good morning Solomon.”  

 

Naz jumped up and grabbed a prayer mat from his tent and brought it outside.  Even though his current atmosphere was different, his vengeance still was just as strong. His thoughts then went to Yousef thinking of giving off the appearance of fitting in. He grabbed his cross under his shirt while his body was pressed against the mat. 

 

Mirac showed up shortly after prayers with coffee and a simple breakfast of fried eggs and pita.  Naz ate very quickly and was excited to begin his training.

 

Mirac grabbed both large weapon crates. He first opened the box containing the Barrett M82. He showed Naz how to assemble it quickly. 

 

“Before you start shooting, the two most important things I want you to think about are distance to the target and wind. Both of these factors will decide your mission success on long range shots.  We will start with some shorter range shots, just so you can get a feel for your basic shots and breathing.”

 

Naz was a sponge, taking in the physics of long range shots. At night learning about stealth, espionage, stalking, trailing, surveillance, night time sniping using night vision goggles. Naz and Ziad would have wild west quick draw competitions with various handgun models and hand to hand duels using wooden knives. A day of training had turned into a week, a week into a month & a month into 3.

 

11/28/90: The war was in full swing, Nato coalition forces had begun moving into Iraq. The USS Lake Champlain was anchored in the Persian Gulf; the Kuwaiti Freedom Fighters would regularly see tomahawk cruise missiles being fired towards central Iraq.  

 

Naz continued to focus on his training, however, he had a lot of unanswered questions. He didn’t understand how the Freedom Fighters were financing their military agenda. Sure the United States could have been helping. However, he knew from reading a lot of history books that these third world countries getting support never received the best high end equipment. That certainly wasn’t the case here.  Also, where did all the officers go during the daytime. It seemed like they were all inside some hidden bunker deep within the barracks. Also amongst the officers they all spoke different dialects of Arabic. He didn’t even think any of the officers were from Kuwait. Why were the soldiers and enlistees that were keeping the base running smoothly kept separately? They had no interactions with one another.

 

Later that evening, Mirac contacted Naz on the comm.

 

“Naz, Ziad & the commander would like to see you in the commander’s tent as soon as possible.”

 

“Ok” Naz responded.

 

Naz approached the tent quietly, while approaching the two appeared to be having an argument. 

 

He recognized Ziad’s voice first. “Naz isn’t ready for something of this magnitude Fazouk, for his first mission.” The commander interrupted

 

“He has had plenty of missions.”

 

“Sure all scouting and marking targets, this isn’t that. We agreed that I would accompany him for his first targeted kill.”

 

“Enough Ziad, this is an amazing opportunity. We can’t let this slip through our fingers. The opportunity has presented itself during sunlight hours, so obviously you can’t join!” Fazouk commanded

 

Let’s just airstrike the target and be done with it.” Ziad pleaded

 

“I am the strategist; you know we can’t do that; the target is headed towards an oil field. The reason we are even in this shithole is to protect the Baron’s oil fields. Airstrike is completely off the table. Mirac will take Naz, they will get this done.”

 

Naz entered the tent, “Sir’s you wanted to see me.”

 

“Yes, Naz have a seat, I understand your training has been going well. It’s time for your first hunt son. We have good intelligence that a priority target will be heading to the Burgan Oil fields tomorrow morning. The target is Ali Hassan al-Majid, are you familiar with this man?”

 

“I am not sir.” Naz responded.

 

“He is Saddam’s first cousin, and was placed in charge of Iraq’s forces in Kuwait. Target name for this op is “Chemical Al”, here is his picture. Memorize it, He likes to travel with a bit of an entourage.  Mirac will be your spotter, rely on his survival skills to get this done. Gear up and your transport leaves just before dawn.”

 

“Yes sir” Naz responded confidently

 

Naz met up with Mirac back at his tent. They both donned Ghillie suits and applied face paint.  Naz grabbed his Barrett M82, a side arm & knife. The two hopped into a Humvee and were headed towards the oil field. Mirac gave a quick radio check & they heard commander Fazouk respond to them.  The Burgan oil field was 20 miles away from the island once they reached the mainland. Naz and Mirac were dropped off a couple miles away & headed to the field on foot The plan was to set up on a ridge overlooking the oil field. The two waited in hiding for around 2 hours.  Finally, in the distance 6 white Mercedes sedans were spotted approaching bearing the Iraqi national flag. Once the cars passed underneath Naz on the road, he positioned his rifle. The cars came to a sudden stop in front of an office. The speeding cars produced a ton of dust, making a shot at this distance was going to be extremely difficult. The target exited the car first and began moving around very frantically. He was doing a lot of pointing and appear to be yelling at some employees at the oil field. Armed guards exited the remaining cars.

 

Mirac’s spoke into the com softly. “Chemical Al on location, repeat target confirmed.” 

 

He looked at Naz, “Distance 937 meters, wind 4mph out of the South east.”

 

Naz nodded, He stared at his target for what felt like an eternity, The target finally stopped moving and the dust had subsided. Naz looked through his scope, adjusted the sights with three clicks to the right. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit the target mid mass, Chemical Al dropped quickly. He squeezed the trigger again, this time the round struck the target in the cranium.  The guards began yelling & firing their rifles in the air in all directions.

 

Mirac hopped back on the com, “target down”, we are going to need an immediate and close Evac.”

 

“Roger”, Fazouk responded

 

 Naz grabbed his rifle and started heading towards the extraction location.

 

“Naz look for some cover, it’s going to get heavy really quick.”

 

Naz ran to an abandoned car that was about 200 meters away and took aim towards the road leading to the oil field. He changed the ammo clip on his rifle to 50 cal. bullets. Mirac moved towards a vacant building and drew a handgun.

 

The Humvee driver hopped on the radio to let the pair know that he was in route and around 2 minutes away.

 

Fazouk’s voice returned to the com. “Air support inbound”

 

The first Mercedes came flying up the road quickly, Naz quickly began firing off rounds. The first round pierced the engine block, followed by 2 more that cleanly hit the car driver.  The road to the oil field was now blocked. Mirac threw a smoke grenade to try and cause some chaos and obscure vision. 

 

The Humvee driver nervously jumped on the comm again, “I’m coming in but we have heavy contact on our six!” At that the Humvee came flying around the corner followed by 2 Iraqi assault trucks with M2 tripod machine guns in the truck beds.  The 3 vehicles exchanged rapid fire, The Humvee trying to use evasion maneuvers slid and crashed into a nearby building. One of the Iraqi’s in the truck aims an RPG at the prone Humvee, the rocket connects with the Humvee creating a massive explosion.

 

“This is Scorpion1 what is your position.”

 

Mirac calmly responds “We’re on the south east corner hiding in an abandoned building, please advise. “

 

Naz dove through a glassless building window entry to join Mirac, He then began exchanging fire with the Iraqi assault trucks.  The sounds of a helicopter became deafening. Suddenly from the road behind the trucks an Apache helicopter unloaded it 30 mm cannons.  Naz heard troops coming from behind the smoke, and began blind firing into the area. The assault trucks were both filled with bullet holes and dead Iraqi soldiers. The helicopter began to put their wheels to the ground. 

 

“Naz that’s our ride out of here, we have to go.”

 

 2 troops jumped off the helicopter and started firing towards the smoky road as well. Naz and Mirac both ran full speed towards the Helicopter. Naz made it to the deck. Mirac right behind him. When suddenly he was hit with two rounds in the back. The two troops continued to fire as they retreated on to the helicopter, one of the troops dragged Mirac on board as the Helicopter took off back to base.

 

“This is scorpion 1 were headed back to base, Humvee is down.  Have medical team ready for arrival we have one down.”

 

Naz grabbed a headset. “Mirac’s hit bad don’t think he will make it.”

Naz was using anything he can get his hands on to apply pressure to Mirac’s wounds. Blood was everywhere, The Helicopter finally touched down at base.  Mirac’s body is quickly scooped up, placed on a stretcher and rushed to the barracks.

 

Naz steps off the helicopter to a series of handshakes and salutes from his fellow soldiers.  It was mid-day by now, curious that neither Ziad or Fazouk was there to welcome him back. Perhaps they are busy tending to Mirac he thought.  Naz took a long shower and returned to his tent for a much needed rest.

 

He was awoken in his tent around sunset by the jovial voices of Ziad & Fazouk. 

 

“There’s our guy!” Fazouk shouted.

Ziad a little more reserved gave Naz a simple wink and fist bump.

 

“How’s Mirac?” Naz asked.

 

“He will be fine.  Just a flesh wound. Fazouk insisted. “Excuse me I need to make a call.”

 

“Really nice work Naz, The Baron is extremely pleased with your success. The remaining oil field workers have fled Burgan field. We are sending our ground units in tonight to secure the location. This war will be over soon. Nato forces are crushing Iraq.”

 

“So who is this Baron?” Naz inquired.

 

As Ziad was about to respond, all that could be heard was yelling coming from Fazouk outside the tent.

 

 “ARE YOU SURE IT WASN’T HIM?!? Ok I understand. Thank you for the intel. Please keep me posted.”

 

Fazouk re-entered the tent, “It appears that Saddam and all his top officials have body doubles. “Chemical Al” was seen this afternoon in Baghdad. Its ok, at least we secured the oil field. More of those to come gentlemen.”

 

“Let’s go Ziad, we have some planning to do for this evening.”

 

“Naz we shall speak later.” Ziad responded as he was leaving

 

2/28/91: Military activity had been quieting down for the last month or so. Roughly 650 oil wells were set ablaze by the Iraqi forces as they fled Kuwait. Naz ended the gulf war with 4 confirmed kills. His appearance had changed drastically. He now had a full beard & his hair had grown down to his shoulders. The air base had become mostly abandoned with the exception of aircrafts, Naz’s tent and the officers living in the barracks. The rest of the ground forces were operating out of Burgan Oil Field.

 

Naz watched as Fazouk walked towards his tent.

 

“Naz, it’s a beautiful night. Care to take a ride with me to Burgan?  I understand you have a lot of questions. We can walk and talk a bit once we land. I need to set up a new chain of command there.”

 

Naz nodded and grabbed his rifle. 

 

Leave your rifle, the war’s over!” Fazouk announced

 

The two men jumped on an Apache, Fazouk seemed incredibly relaxed. He was wearing a Walkman listening to some very loud music, while thrashing his head up and down during the helicopter ride.  He looked over at Naz. “Do you like Metallica?”

 

“Never heard of them sir. I’m not much of a music person. Naz responded.

 

He passed the Walkman over to Naz, it was incredibly loud.

 

“Dreams of war, dreams of liars, Dreams of Dragons fire”

 He had no idea what the artist was yelling.

 

 “Sorry sir I don’t understand English.” 

 

“You will soon enough Naz.  The song reminds me of you. It’s called “Enter Sandman.”   You are the Sandman around here son.”

 

Naz smiled as the helicopter descended to the ground. The two men hopped out and began walking away from the base. Naz took a look over his shoulder and was impressed on how well the area had been fortified.

 

“So Ziad tell me you have a lot of questions. We are leaving Kuwait by the end of the week. We are heading back to our base the “Alamut.”

We would like for you to join us, Continue your training with Ziad. The Baron is eager to meet you. Someone with your skills can earn unimaginable riches and have a harem of women. What do you say?”

 

“Is it ok if I ask you a few questions sir?” Naz asked cautiously

 

“Sure Naz, I am not sure I will be able to answer all of them. However, I will do my best.”

 

“Sir, I’m very confused about this entire arrangement. Who is this Baron? None of the officers are from Kuwait, yourself included. Why are you all here?”

 

“The Baron is our employer; we are mercenaries so to speak. I am Turkish, as is Mirac.  Ziad is Jordanian. The Baron is Pakistani. However we are all faithful followers of Allah similar to you. The Baron’s enterprises are heavily vested financially into the Kuwaiti oil business, When Iraq took control of their fields. The Baron sent us to try and secure his investment.   We did the best we could.”

 

The two continued to walk. Completely walking around the Burgan compound. “Anything else Naz?”

 

“Where do all the officers go at night? I overheard a conversation between you and Ziad, right before my first op. About him not being able to go on it because it was during the day. I don’t understand.

Fazouk stopped and scratched his head.” He turned to Naz and right as he was about to speak the two men heard a single gunshot come from a guard tower in front of them.

 

“Cease fire Fazouk screamed.” 

 

He looked to Naz and there was a bullet wound in his stomach. Naz dropped to the dirt immediately.  The pain was unbearable, struggling to keep conscious. After a few minutes he was loaded onto a stretcher and placed on a truck that drove the 2 men down to the Burgan base.  Fazouk was screaming at everyone, they rushed Naz into the infirmary. Fazouk asked for the guard responsible for the fire to be brought to him immediately. 

 

Fazouk kicked everyone else out of the infirmary, even the doctors. 

Naz was in a retching in pain, Fazouk tilted Naz’s neck to the side, opened his mouth and bit into the side of his neck. Fazouk’s body tingled from the sweet taste of his blood. He continues the drain of his blood. Working quickly, Fazouk bit into his wrist opening a vein, blood began to trickle down his arm. Naz’s eyes slowly began to shut. Fazouk opened Naz’s mouth, next he steadily aimed so that a consistent stream of blood flowed into Naz’s mouth. He pinched Naz’s nose & shut his mouth and tilted his head back. Next Fazouk reached into a cabinet, grabbing a body bag and began maneuvering Naz’s entire body into it. There was a knock on the door right as he finished zipping up the body.

Fazouk opened the door, “Sir you wanted to see me the guard said casually.”

 

Fazouk quickly drew his sidearm and fired two shots into the guard’s head. Fazouk grabbed the body bag and began walking towards the exit of the building, he saw a 4 guards on watch duty.

 

“Carry this body to my helicopter immediately.   He looked at the other two guards, there is another dead body in the infirmary, get rid of it. 

 

Fazouk quickly ran towards the helicopter. 

 

Naz awoke to the sound of arguing. He finds himself with an insatiable thirst.  Naz realize his hands are handcuffed behind him and he has a black bag over his head.

 

Zaid who is yelling at Fazouk, “We had an agreement, I received elder permission to embrace him.”

“What was I supposed to do Ziad, he was shot? I had to make a judgement call. He was dying.”

 

“Please! He was shot in the stomach; you could have easily transported him to me here. This was always your plan.”

 

The more reasonable voice of Mirac interjected. “Gentlemen, perhaps we should table this conversation for now. It appears our friend is awake.”

 

Fazouk rips the black bag off his head. Naz scans the room, he sees Fazouk standing right in front of him, with Mirac and Zaid on either side. He appears to be very angry.  

 

“Naz you have some explaining to do, he demanded. What is the meaning of this?” As he produces Naz’s crucifix from his pocket. “You tricked us all, you prayed with the rest of us. We were all to believe you were a son of Abraham. You have some explaining to do.”

 

Naz looks at Fazouk. “My name is Solomon Nazir. I figured being named after a Jewish king in the old testament might not have me received with open arms. I grew up in a Chaldean village in Iraq. Everything has been taken from me except my faith. It’s not like you have all been completely honest the entire time either.”

 

“You shall renounce this false god and be a true follower of Allah! I am your Sire and this is my will!”

 

“You speak as if you are some Magi offering me gold, myrrh & frankincense, my salvation is already assured. I will never turn my back on Christ.”

 

Fazouk spits on the floor and places the black bag over his head. You think I offer you some covenant, I am your Sire! We shall see how long you remain strong.”

 

The next series of events happen very quickly. Naz felt some very strong hands grab the collar of his shirt. He hears the loud noise of a helicopter getting close. He gets ushered on to the aircraft, it quickly takes off.  The helicopter ride is quite quick; everyone seems to be rushing. Once the helicopter lands, everyone seems to be running. The strong person pushes Naz up some stairs. He hears sounds of airplane propellers. Naz is escorted to a seat and strapped in.  He hears Fazouk’s voice ahead of him. “

“Let’s go! We are all here, take off now!” The small passenger propeller plane quickly takes off. 

 

 A few moments later, Naz hears, Mirac’s soft voice. “You must feed.”

 

His black bag is lifted above his nose.  Mirac placed a plastic spout to his mouth connect to some sort of bag. The taste was very metallic and the consistency was thick and viscous. Once he swallowed the liquid his entire body was invigorated. The rest of the flight was uneventful, no one spoke. 

 

Upon landing, Naz was still unable to see and was cuffed. He was moved into a car. He felt like he was being stuffed into the back seat. He heard an unfamiliar voice.

 

“Sir what is our final destination?”

 

Fazouk responded, “Take us to the Castle in the mountain. Hurry, we only have a few hours till sunrise.”

 

“No problem sir, we have plenty of time.”

 

The ride is mostly uneventful, until the car begins going on a circular path that runs on a drastic incline. All the windows in the car roll down.

 

Fazouks boisterous voice give a large inhale, “ahhhh we are finally home.”

 

Finally, the car comes to a screeching stop.  Naz has the bag removed from his head. He notices that he is joined by Ziad, Mirac & Fazouk.

 They all get out; the group is greeted by some armed guards.  The guards bow their heads out of respect to Fazouk & Ziad. Fazouk gestures to Naz. 

 

“This one is my prisoner, place him in a cell immediately.”

 

Ziad tries to interject. “This is nonsense; He was a loyal soldier. At no point was it prefaced that he needed to be Muslim to join our army.”

 

Fazouk takes a step toward Ziad, “Silence, I am your senior here. Plus, he is my Childer not yours! The army, operation & successes were all mine, Not yours!”

Ziad shakes his head. “He was supposed to be my Childer. Make no mistake, I will be filing a grievance.” Both men storm off. Mirac looks at the guards.

 

I’ll take him to his cell, no need to involve you in this family affair. Mirac says reasonably

 

The two go down a few flights of stairs.

 

“What is to happen to me now Mirac? What am I, I feel different. stronger, faster. I’m always hungry.”

 

“I am not your Sire Naz, it is not for me to answer these questions.”

 

Mirac walked him down to a cell. “Mr. Naz, this is you. Is there anything I can bring you to help pass the time? I am not positive how long you will be imprisoned.”

 

“No Mirac, I’m fine thank you.”

 

Later that day Mirac brought him another bag of Blood.  “Drink my friend.”

 

Ziad had snuck in behind Mirac and was holding a bag.  “Naz how are you holding up? I fear you will be down here for quite a while. I have filed a grievance with the Banu Haqim court. I’m sure it will be quite a while before an arbitrator calls a hearing. I’ve brought you some entertainment.  Our library is extensive; we have any periodicals you might want. I am planning to head to the United states in the coming years. I have brought some cassettes teaching the basics of language and culture. If there are any specific books or magazines you would like just ask Mirac. I might be away for a while. I have new orders, but again send word to Mirac if you need to reach me. Also there are some books in the bag about us Kindred. I suggest you read them first. It will help you understand the metamorphosis you have experienced. Your only permission to leave the cell will be for escorted bathing purposes.”

 

Ziad took his leave, Naz immediately began looking through the bags of books and cassettes. All the way in the bottom of the bag, Naz noticed a piece of red suede fabric.  He unfolded it, to his surprise it revealed his childhood Crucifix that Fazouk had taken from him. 

 

Mirac retrieved a small piece of paper from his pocket.  “Mr. Naz a message from Farouk.”

 

Naz grabbed the paper and quickly read through it. 

 

“Sandman I trust you are enjoying this time to reflect. I urge you to join your Muslim brothers and renounce the teachings of Christ. I shall teach you ways of the lion. It would be my pleasure to release you from your captivity immediately.”

 

Naz crumbled the paper up in a ball and threw it through the jail cell.

 

“Fuck that guy.” Naz yelled, as Mirac let out a loud laughter.

11/17/08: Naz spent the next 17 plus years as a prisoner. He would receive multiple visits from Mirac daily to drop off blood. He learned to read and write English, He would read the NY Times, the Washington Post, Rolling Stone, Money, Time, Popular Mechanics, National Geographic, Fortune, Car & Driver and Recoil magazines. When Ziad was at the Alamut he always spent time with Naz. However, he hadn’t seen Fazouk since he moved into his prison.

 

Naz heard a pair of footsteps coming down the hall. He heard the sound of whistling. Naz ignored the sounds as he was staying focused on a magazine he was reading.

 

Sandman! Fazouk shouted as he approached the cell. You look terrible, we need to get you cleaned up for your big day.”

 

Mirac, take him to see the girls, let him feed, I want him bathed and donned in fresh appropriate clothing. Sandman today will be your last day in a cage.  You shall be mine to command after the hearing!”

 

Mirac walks over and to open the cell, Naz doesn’t make eye contact with Fazouk. He adjusts his shirt and pulls his necklace out on the outside of his shirt.

 

Fazouk lets out a roaring laughter, that Ziad is sneaky.

 

“No matter though, once the arbitrator declares you my property. I shall watch as you burn your own cross or I will remove your head.

 

Naz walked past Fazouk and Followed Mirac down the hallway.

 

“Enjoy your first real meal my friend.” Fazouk yelled behind him and followed with a smug laugh

 

Naz Followed Mirac to an elevator at the end of the hall.  They took it up to the seventh floor. The door opened a warm steamy mist. Naz got the feeling he was entering a spa from the magazine’s he had read. The room was filled with attractive people of all different ethnicities. 

 

Mirac looked at Naz. “Pick one, or a few. You should feed first. Then we can get you groomed and cleaned up.”

 

Naz was immediately drawn towards a pale skinned blue eyed young women.  

 

“I’ll take her.” Naz announced confidently.  She smiled at Naz and grabbed his hand.  

 

Let’s go get some privacy she recommended.  Naz was quite excited and nervous. she led him to a beautifully fabric bench. She drew a curtain around them. She sat down and took her top off.

 

“Ok I’m ready darling.”

 

 Naz just looked at her. “It’s my first time, I’m a little nervous.”   

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll love it. Just go nice and slow.”

 

As she tilted her head to the side. Naz moved in and buried his fangs into her neck, she gave out a quick giggle.  Naz felt a blast of bliss he never imagined of experiencing before. Suddenly he completely lost control and had completely pinned the woman down. He continued to slurp blood from her neck. She gave out a faint cry for help. Sudden the curtain flew open and two large hands grab Naz. The arms quickly made their way under Naz’s neck into a choke. The man’s strength easily pulled Naz off the woman.  Naz continued to flail around trying to get at the woman. Mirac’s tremendous strength had no problem controlling the weaker Naz. He lifted Naz off the ground and threw him into the shower and turned on the cold water.  

 

“Miverna.” Mirac called out. “You might want to give a look to your girl, my man’s first feeding was little overzealous.”

 

A beautiful Indian women appeared and shook her head giving Mirac a dirty look. Meanwhile Mirac kept Naz in the shower until he regained control of his urges.   

 

Mirac kept asking are. “Are you good?”   He waited till Naz responded with his normal demeanor. 

 

Next 2 larger women walked into the shower and began to peel the dirty clothing off Naz. They gave him a variety of different facial masks, body scrubs.  Next he was placed in a Frette robe and they brought a barber’s chair. Next his beard was perfectly shaped into a thin Anchor Style Goatee. His hair was cut to one length down to shoulder length.  The stylist twirled his hair into a Samurai style top knot. Next his nails were perfectly manicured. Naz looked at himself in the mirror, for the first time since he could remember he was pleased with the reflection he saw. 

 

Next Mirac brought him down a side stairwell to the 6th floor & he was in a custom tailors shop. Naz was placed in a gray robe.   

 

Naz looked at Mirac, “I thought you brought me to the women’s clothing store, why am I wearing a man dress with all these beautiful suits?”  Mirac cracked a smile. 

 

“This is what I was instructed to have you dressed in.”

 

“Let me guess Fazouk!”

 

“Let’s go, they are awaiting our arrival.” Mirac said

 

The two men hop back into the elevator, this time to the 13th floor. They turned to the left and entered a parlor room.  There was skinny man wearing glasses behind a desk, with a pen in his hand looking at a tome.  Ziad and Fazouk were situated on separate sides of the rooms sitting on couches. There was a chair in the middle of the room. Fazouk stood up. 

 

“Look we match my son. You sit in the chair.”

 

Ziad stood up as well, wearing a custom black suit with Italian leather shoes.

 

Naz now sitting. “Now what do we do?”

 

“You do nothing; you have no voice here. We wait for the arbitrator, then you will be mine to command.” Fazouk said confidently.

Suddenly the parlor doors swung open, in walked a stunning dark skinned women. Wearing a red leather tunic & black leather pants. A magnificent jewel encrusted Khopesh at her side. Her face was narrow and beautiful with piercing blue eyes. Naz struggled to look away as he was enthralled by the women’s beauty.  Ziad and Fazouk both looked shocked to see this woman in front of them.

 

Ziad immediately dropped to a knee.

 

“Hand of Vengeance it is an honor to be received by you.”

 

She gave him a nod and a smirk, she then looked to Fazouk. Fazouk stood tall and puffed his chest. 

 

“Fatima nice to see you. I’m surprised you’re in attendance for such a trivial matter.”

 

“Trivial?  On the contrary, I wanted to see this Childer that has kindred brothers of the blood refusing to acknowledge one another for over a decade.”

She approaches Naz, and begins walking around him, she stares into his almond shaped auburn colored eyes. She walks behind him, unties his top knot.  She scratches her nails in his scalp and smells his neck. Naz was becoming very nervously excited. 

 

Yes, the vitae is very strong in this one. 

 

“Naz, I am Fatima Al-Faqadi, you may call me Fati.”

 

Fazouk quickly interrupted. “May I call you Fati as well, perhaps I can get you and the childer a room?”

 

Fatima fired back quickly with her hand moving towards the hilt of her sword. “Please call me Fati or interrupt me again.  Alright Ziad of the fellow warrior caste, you filed the complaint. Let’s hear it.”

 

“Baroness, I received official permission from Ur-Shulgi, to embrace Naz. Instead my brother the vizier, stole my rights as his sire. Naz suffered a minor gunshot wound and Fazouk took his humanity with no claim. On top of that he recklessly killed the person who shot the childer, not allowing for any sort of inquiry. I suspect that the shooting was staged as can be expected of his kind!”

 

“That’s bullshit!” Fazouk shouted.

 

“What did I say about interruptions Fazouk?” as she walked toward him.

 

“Baroness I interrupted my brother not you.” As he backed away.

 

“Fine let’s hear your claim now.”

 

“Oh course my lady, The Childer was shot, mortally wounded to my eyes. I felt my brother would be happy to keep him in our bloodline. The shooter was executed, because we were doing Ur-Shulgi’s work and I would not leave a human so incompetent alive. As Lord Vizier I was forced to make a difficult decision that I felt was in Ur-Shulgi’s best interest.”

 

Fatima tilted her head and her eye squinted as she looked at Fazouk. “I find it shocking that you want the responsibility to be a sire considering you sent your slave to oversee the Childers first feeding. That is something most sire’s want to oversee, especially since he almost completely drained a herd member.”

 

Naz waited for a break and decided to speak up.

 

“Do I get to say anything?” As he stood up

 

“Naz you are most welcome to speak, just know that if you say something that upsets me. You shall be swiftly handed the Final Death.” Naz quickly sat back down.

 

“Just so you are both clear I sought out advisement from Uncle Horus the maker of you both. He is most displeased; He feels that your immaturity has really shown here. He doesn’t believe that either of you are ready to sire another kindred. I tend to agree with his assessment.  Horus thought the best solution would be to send him the childer for training or to just end him if he didn’t seem worth the while. So I that will be my ruling.”  

 

Fatima looked to the man who was quiet writing in the tome behind the desk. 

 

“You…. Leave us, your work is done here.” She eyed the skinny man and wait for him to walk out the door.

She reached into her pocket and dropped down to tie her shoe. There was a faint beep and suddenly the lights in the room went out. She pulled a Zippo lighter from her pocket and began lighting candles. 

“Low grade EMP, we need to be quick. Now gentlemen the real reason I’m here. Ur-Shulgi mind is corrupted, surely you both feel it here. Fazouk like you, I am a faithful Muslim. His blood cultist will not let us follow whatever our faith of choice is before long. Since he removed the Tremerian blood curse those zealots think he is a god. I despise the Tremere as much as any child of haqim, but giving up their base location to the Second Inquisition is heresy against all Kindred. I would sooner just kill them all myself. My Web of Knives sect in the West is gaining a lot of momentum. I believe being members of the Camarilla will be extremely beneficial.  Positions of power of there are for the taking. The Alamut is my home too, but it doesn’t feel the same here. My jet is being fueled up in the hanger as we speak I hope the two of you decide to join me. The Warrior, Vizier and Sorcerer have been working together to achieve greatness for centuries. It’s time both of you look beyond your past conflicts. Naz I’ll see you in the hanger in an hour. Horus says neither of you are ordered to come West, but he expects both of you to get on the plane if you planning on seeking his favor again in the future. Gentlemen the situation is grim here, I suggest we all look past our beliefs and faiths for the hope of future prosperity.

 

The lights kick back on again, there is shouting outside the door. 

 

“Out of the way slave.”

 

 The door opens to two armed guards looking around.

 

“Baroness is everything ok? We noticed the security cameras went down. Our lord was pleasantly surprised by your arrival; he was hoping you would join him for dinner.”

“Oh what a shame, I must decline. I was just stopping by to refuel. Spreading the teachings of Haqim across the globe is a busy undertaking.  Please send him my love and devotion.”

 

The guards bow their heads. “Of course mistress. Always a pleasure to have you here.”  

 

The group leaves while the guards stay to inspect the security cameras. The group of 5 go to the elevator.

 

“I’ll be in my jet waiting; It’s leaving in an hour.” Fatima hit B on the elevator console.  

 

Naz looks to Mirac, Hit 6 for me please.   Everyone looks at him bizarrely. “What? There is no way I am wearing this fucking dress on a private jet flying somewhere west.  No way!” everyone except Fazouk laughs.

 

Naz rushed to the tailor.

 

“I got an hour, what can you do for me.” The tailor opens some cabinets.

 

“Go rack shopping young man.”

 

 Naz ends up with a midnight blue suit, black shirt, charcoal gray scarf and black shoes, the tailor races to hem the pants in time. Naz jumps back on the elevator and hit B.

 

He heads down to the hanger and sees Mirac waiting in front of the stairs.  Naz runs up the stairs of the jet followed by Mirac. Fatima notifies the captain that we ready to take off.  The plane begins to move to position itself to build speed on the runway. The radio begins to blare. 

 

“Do not take off, the lord wants a word with you Baroness.”

 

“We must stop!” says the captain. 

 

Fatima draws a dagger from her belt buckle.

 

“If you stop this plane, I will bleed you and fly it myself.”

 

The captain accelerated the plane; it quickly glided out of the hangar through the air headed west.

 

Naz makes conversation with the group. “Who do I talk to about getting a bag of blood?”

 

Fatima’s eye raise.

 

“Sweetie your flying private with me.  This isn’t like spending time with those savage brothers over there. Come, lets share a meal together in my private quarters. I shall teach you to feed.  She grabs an intercom; Captain please send 2 stewardesses down to my private chambers.”

Fatima grabbed Naz’s hand.  

 

Naz smiled and thought to himself. “I always wanted to join the mile-high club.”