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Back The Desert of Glass Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. BY MICHAEL C. GRUMLEY
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. EPILOGUE
  82. II
  83. III
  84. IV

“A lot of times, yes, depending on the project and when it’s completed.  Unless there’s another project waiting in the wings, without work, most companies have to shrink to survive until they find something else.  You said the second surge was a few years later and somewhere else?”

“In Bangladesh.”

“Bangladesh,” he murmured.  After a minute, he frowned.  “I hate to say it, but this could just be normal construction company turnover, moving from place to place when it landed another project.”

“So, that’s it?”

He shrugged, both hands still on the wheel.  “Hiring a bunch of people in March of 1970 isn’t a lot to go on.”

“May,” corrected Mona.

“What?”

“I said May.  The month was May.”

“Whatever.  What else did your sister say?”

Mona sighed and went back to her scribbling, reading… until her eyes stopped moving.  Slowly, they moved back to the Bahgat name and then stopped again, and then she absently raised her gaze to the car’s black dashboard directly in front of her.

From the corner of his eye, Omar noticed a change in her demeanor.  “What?”

She didn’t answer.  Instead, she began paging through the clippings again.

“What’s going on?”

She continued examining each piece of paper as she went through them.  “May,” she said.  “1970!”

“What?”

“I know I’ve seen that date before.  In this folder.”  She withdrew a single sheet.  One of the newspaper articles.

Studying it again, Mona held it up for Omar to glance at.  When he did, briefly, he immediately checked his rearview mirror and rapidly slowed the car, almost causing the BMW to slide as he pulled off the road into a wide patch of empty sand.

With her right hand bracing herself against the dash, Mona’s left was still holding the paper up in front of her.  When he’d stopped, Omar plucked it away and examined it closer.  The article was written in Spanish and was unreadable to him, but the calendar date at the top was easy.  31st May 1970.

It took them two minutes to find an app and translate the headline using Mona’s phone, but they could already tell what it said, judging from the large black-and-white photo in the center of the page displaying a gruesome scene of incredible destruction.

The word in giant letters was TERRAMOTO–the Spanish word for earthquake.

32

32

“Now that… is weird.”

Two sentences at a time, Mona continued translating the article with her phone, listening as the sentences were read back to her in Arabic while staring at Omar.

“Saad creates a construction company and then goes to Peru just a few months before a major earthquake?”

“And hires over a hundred people right before it,” said Omar.