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Abdul Aleem took a deep breath before he repeated his question. “Where is the body?” He was on a video conference with Bakirin, the leader of the group that had invaded the White House. He was waiting for confirmation that the American President was dead.
“There was nobody in the bedroom. We have checked the rubble, and there is no sign that he perished in the explosion.”
“Are you saying he escaped?” He was fast losing his temper. The Brotherhood could not afford to have that American alive.
“Yes.” The man on the screen was obviously terrified to relay the news. “But we will find him and kill him.”
Abdul Aleem glared at the man he spoke with but still spoke calmly: “I want the world to see him being killed.”
The instructions were clear, and any more failure would be dealt with accordingly. Bakirin knew the consequences for him would be grave. “Am I free to do what I wish with the prisoners?” he asked
“Do what you must. But Dalton must be dealt with as soon as possible.” And with those final words, Abdul Aleem ended the call.
He turned around and looked at the others in the room with him. “This is a minor setback. The important thing is, we now hold the American Capitol. Their President is on the run.”
Bakirin was going to flush that American pig out. The difference between the Brotherhood and these Western bastards was that they were weak. They didn’t understand what war was all about.
Without an army and the weapons the Westerners bragged about, they were helpless. The Brotherhood now had control over everything. Every secret military base in the world was now under their command.
He himself stood in the middle of the Oval Office. The fate of everybody in the White House depended on him, a mere farmer’s son. He grinned at the thought of how the fates had shifted.
“Who is the highest ranked among the prisoners?” he asked his second in command, Fahid.
“The Vice President.” The reply was quick.
“Bring him here.”
Fahid gave the order to their troops who stood at the door. The prisoners were held in one of the sitting rooms so it would take a while for the one he requested to be brought to him.
He walked to the resolute desk and sat down behind it. What a joke! It was no different from the thrones of old. It was a weapon of power wielded by unworthy liars.
“Bring in the cameras. These Americans love television, don’t they? Let’s give them a show.”
He didn’t have to wait long for everything to be ready. The Vice President sat on one of the couches facing the cameras that had been set up. Bakirin stood next to the American.
The show was about to begin.