One night, Islamic extremists came and took his wife. Perhaps some of them were his former patients, or his neighbors. It didnt matter. He never saw her again. Even now, a decade later, he did not dare to imagine her face or her name. He simply thought wife, and kept the rest blocked. He could not bear to think about her.

He could not bear to think that when she was taken, there was no one he could turn to for help. The society was no longer functioning. The worst tendencies had been set loose. People laughed, or looked away, when he passed on the street.

Two weeks later, in the night, another group came, a dozen men. These ones were different, unfamiliar to him. They wore black hoods. They took him and his daughters into the desert on the back of a pickup truck. They marched the three of them out onto the sand. They forced them to their knees at the lip of a trench. His girls were crying. Ashwal could not bring himself to cry. He could not bring himself to comfort them. He was too numb. In a sense, he almost welcomed this, the relief that it would bring.

Suddenly gunshots rang out. Automatic fire.

At first, Ashwal thought he was dead. But he was wrong. One of the men was shooting all the others. He killed them and killed them. It took less than ten seconds. The sound was deafening. When it was done, three of the men were still alive, crawling, trying to escape. The man calmly walked up to each and shot them in the back of the head with a pistol. Ashwal flinched each time.

The man removed his hood. He was a man with the full beard of the mujahideen. His skin was dark from the desert sun. But his hair was light, almost blond, like a Westerner. He walked up to Ashwal and offered a hand.

Stand up, he said. His voice was firm. There was no compassion in it. It was the voice of a man accustomed to giving orders.

Come with me if you want to live.

The mans name was Luke Stone. He was the same man who had just instructed Ashwal to steal a corpse. There was no choice. Ashwal didnt even ask why he wanted it. Luke Stone had saved his life, and his daughters lives. Their lives were far more important than any job.

The last thing Luke Stone said into the phone decided him, if he hadnt decided already.

Theyve taken my family, he said.

Ashwal looked at the black man in the wheelchair. Shall we go in the back and see what we can find?

Chapter 51

1:50 a.m.

Bowie, Maryland - Eastern Suburbs of Washington, DC

A motorcade of vehicles had sped through the night to arrive here.