In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.

She picked up her phone, re-read her message and pressed send.

39

Antony Bello’s name certainly fitted. Whether he was dictating orders to a lowly soldier or speaking in confidence to a trusted associate like Abdul, there was always volume. Today was different, though. Because Bello was off-the-charts angry. As Abdul knocked and opened the office door, a glass hit the opposite wall and smashed.

‘Bad news, I take it?’ said Abdul, closing the door behind him.

The whites of Bello’s wide eyes were in stark contrast to his dark skin and his blue cotton shirt was soaked with sweat. ‘Why do they fail me? Do they want to spend eternity burning?’

Abdul did not believe in God. Not that he’d ever admit that to the second in command of God’s Liberation Army. Bello was devout to the point of radicalized. He was also the nephew of GLA’s founder and tipped for the top job when his uncle’s battle with pancreatic cancer met its inevitable end. So not a man to disagree with.

Abdul stood in the corner of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting as Bello raged against those who had failed him. It was not that he was scared of Bello. Abdul had never been scared of anyone his whole life and he had met some truly despicable men. No, he stood there because he enjoyed watching Bello’s rage. He loved seeing the knee-jerk decisions and impulsive actions of such men, most of which weren’t thought through well enough to have the desired impact. There were exceptions to this, of course. Men who’d made it right to the top. But they were rare indeed.

‘I should have sent you, Abdul. You would never have been so weak and stupid.’ Bello was calming now. He stood behind his desk with his hands flat on its surface. His face glistened with sweat but his eyes were no longer so wide. Abdul dipped his head once in acknowledgement of the compliment. ‘Get my commanders together. We will strategize.’

Abdul left to do as he was asked. He didn’t give an opinion. If pressed, he would admit that Bello’s desire to dominate the women in his life was the source of his weakness. At current count the man had no fewer than eight wives and yet he continued to obsess about the one who had outwitted him. It would be his downfall.