It was owned and operated by one of Tariq’s countrymen who had immigrated to the United States more than twenty years earlier. The man might have had a suspicion that Tariq was more than he seemed, but nothing of the sort was spoken. Tariq knew that the proprietor still had relatives back home and would have threatened them if he had to, but it wasn’t necessary. The man did everything he could to be helpful. He had two rooms ready, one for Tariq . . . The other for Alfredo Sanchez. Tariq wasn’t happy about the man coming along, but Sanchez had insisted. He wanted to make sure everything went according to plan, or so he said. Of course, when the time came for the New Sun to rise, Sanchez would be far away, well out of the blast radius. Tariq knew and accepted that. He didn’t expect Sanchez to sacrifice his own life. The man was a mercenary, not a true believer. Sanchez’s only true allegiance was to his own profit and power. And as such, not even his assistance in furthering the cause of Islam would keep him from going straight to hell when his time came.
