55
THERE IS ANOTHER
City of Chekka, coastal Lebanon. Warehouse of the Holcim Liban cement factory.
“No one knows about you,” Waseem Jarrah said to a man standing in the shadows. “And I’ve worked very hard to keep it that way.”
Jarrah paced the dusty, gravel-covered floor.
“I know you have, Waseem,” the man replied. His voice was coarse as if parched by rock salt. “I will not fail you. I can be trusted.”
“Can you? Can you be trusted? This is not a game we play. The role I task of you is crucial to this mission. Unless it is executed flawlessly, our plans will fail.”
“When have I ever gone against your teachings?” the young man said. “I have done nothing but show my loyalty. And besides, I am the only person that could pull off this assignment. You said it yourself. What could be more
