13Homs Governorate, Syria
Aslan Terzi’s eyelids fluttered open. All around was the cadence of a violent rumbling. The glare of the sun was in his face, stabbing at his eyes. He winced, attempted to shield his face. But his hands were restrained. He saw that he was handcuffed to a seat. The links looped through a metal bracket in the armrest! He turned away from the sun, massaged his wrists while he oriented himself.
He was inside an aeroplane, facing the tail section. Diagonally opposite, was a slumped figure. Leonid Rashnikov. As the fog in his mind lifted, Terzi recalled Rashnikov had been shot outside the hotel. Rashnikov’s head lolled against his chest in a slumber. He was alive. Images of the thwarted escape from Dubai flashed before him: the van with ambulance markings rushing towa
