The Caliphate by André Gallo (books to read for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

just below the rib cage and to his right, hoping to drive the knife up under the ribs to the heart. Tariq slashed at his opponent.

     The two Frenchmen stumbled back, looking for a way to escape. Hussein drew blood but wasn’t close enough for the decisive blow. The Frenchmen turned to run but Tariq and Hussein were quicker and soon had them on the ground. To defend themselves, the Frenchmen turned over to try to grab their attackers’ hands or arms or knives. The Frenchmen were strong and they put up a fight. They yelled for help, but if anyone heard or saw them, they didn’t come to their aid. They were, however at a disadvantage, being drunk and without weapons.

     Soon enough their loss of blood weakened them. Tariq’s fury made him relentless. The drunker Frenchman was on the ground trying to stop Tariq’s knife thrusts and was able to get both hands on Tariq’s knife hand. With strength born of desperation he began to push the knife away. But suddenly Hussein kneeled over both and, with one swift and muscular motion he slit the Frenchman’s throat. Blood spurted on Tariq hands and face. They dragged the bodies behind steps that led up to a front door so that the bodies would be hidden at least from one side. Then, quickly, they retreated.

     Afterward, Tariq felt immensely satisfied and exhilarated. This was the first time he had felt relieved of the straitjacket he had been forced to wear while living and working in a non-Muslim environment. He was thinking, for the first time, that the advice of his uncle Said was more than just logically sound. He felt purified.

     Al Khalil had a mixed reaction to Hussein’s performance. He had dispatched his Frenchman in a very workmanlike way. But the lack of emotion puzzled Tariq. The killing of an infidel was one of the greatest acts one could perform in the service of Allah. It had greatly aroused him while at the same time released the pent-up desire for revenge against the infidels and anger at the European world.

     Al Khalil ran his fingers lightly over his cheek and saw blood on his hand. He took a handkerchief and wiped his face and his hands. Their hotel, The Rostemides, although small, was the best hotel in Ghardaia. Built in the M’zab style with arches, columns and minarets, it nevertheless had air conditioning, a pool and a TV.

     Back in his room, Tariq put on the TV news on while he undressed to wash. Right after the soccer news—Oran 2, Annaba 1—a photo from a French paper appeared as the announcer read, “In Paris, an American working for the CIA died in a hit-and-run accident as he was crossing the street in front of the restaurant that he had just left. This photo of Dr. Coogan and of his assistant Steve Church appeared in the French paper L’Humanité two days ago when they came back from Germany where they participated in a slander against the holy Quran. We take you live to our Paris correspondent Lachine al Masri.”

     The image changed to a middle-aged man in front of a restaurant named Chez André.

     “Dr. Coogan and his dinner companion Sandrine Légier had just left Chez André, a favorite of writers, and were crossing the street right here...”

     The camera panned to a crosswalk.

     “When a car came out of nowhere and hit both at considerable speed. The car, described as either a dark blue Renault or a black Peugeot, did not stop. They were both taken to the hospital but Dr. Coogan died on the way. Wait…”

     The correspondent pressed his left hand to the earphone from which he was apparently receiving information.

     “I have just learned that this may not have been an accident. A message from the Global Islamic Front Against Jews and Crusaders now claims responsibility, in revenge for Dr. Coogan’s role.”

    He pressed a finger against the earphone.

     “Sorry, alleged role, in the forged CIA documents claiming to be original versions of the Quran. Dr. Coogan’s maid was arrested yesterday for attempting to kill him by exploding a bomb tied to her waist. Coogan’s assistant Mr. Church has apparently fled the country.”

     Al Khalil watched in rapt attention. He had ordered Coogan’s execution. However, he had had to leave before the operation was carried out. He was startled by the second person in the photograph identified as Steve Church. He had a vague recollection of the American but couldn’t place him. He made a mental note that Church had to be found and sent to join Coogan.

     Al Khalil wanted to stay another day in Ghardaia to meet with other potential backers for his vision. However, El Maghrebi’s men were on a schedule and explained that they needed to get back to Blida as soon as they got al Khalil to Timbuktu. And, with the killing of the Frenchmen, they needed to move on.

***

The next morning, Tariq, Hussein and the two men on loan from the AQIM had breakfast at the hotel. The dining room was bright with the morning light from large windows facing south. The air conditioning was on full blast causing Hussein to sneeze repeatedly. He got up to ask the reception to shut it off and came back to the table. The four men sat at a table on which were dates, oranges, flat bread, jam, a pot of coffee, and a can of Nestlé’s condensed milk with two holes punched in the top.

     They were alone in the small dining room until an elderly French couple came in and occupied another table, to Tariq’s great annoyance. It seemed to Tariq from the Frenchman’s conversation that he had been a young officer in the French Army fighting the Algerian rebels before Algerian independence.

     In a lowered voice Tariq announced,