They left the Al Ras Akhdar peninsula with a police escort, flashing past the Emirates Palace hotel and the expensive foreshore developments. Their escort cleared the morning traffic with wailing sirens and flashing lights.Tariq’s father, Hussein Ahmed, was in the first limousine. As security adviser to the Emir, he always travelled with a police escort.Hussein sat upright, watching the modern buildings flash past. His features were emotionless, resembling an ancient statue battered and worn by the windswept desert. The white robes and keffiyah added to the likeness. On the seat opposite, facing the rear of the car, was Hussein’s head of security; the man responsible for turning his evil intentions into outcomes.“Have you heard from Yussuf?” asked Hussein.“No. He will contact me once it is done. I gave him strict orders to remain undercover until it is complete. He has never failed us before.” The man checked his watch. “The bomb will go off today as planned.” “The Americans are still at the clinic?
