Front Cover

Half-Title Page

Also by the author

Also by the author:

The Day After World War III: The U.S. Government’s Plans for Surviving a Nuclear War

Small Fortunes: Two Guys in Pursuit of the American Dream

Title Page

Copyright Page

Copyright © 2022 by Edward Zuckerman

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Arcade Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Arcade Publishing books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Arcade Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or [email protected].

Arcade Publishing® and Arcade CrimeWise® are registered trademarks of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Erin Seaward-Hiatt

ISBN: 978-1-956763-05-8

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-956763-11-9

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

For Mike Rosenbaum, who never got around to writing his
And, of course, for Margot and Molly Jane

Prologue (2017)

PROLOGUE (2017)

Bashir

BASHIR

It sounded like a lawn mower, but Bashir didn’t know that, because he had never seen a lawn mower or, for that matter, a lawn. Nevertheless, by a second or two, he heard it first. He stopped and looked up, shielding his eyes from the fierce midday sun, while the others continued running in and out of the small brick building, smiling in a manic way, carrying the sacks of cash. American dollars. Crusader money, but highly valued, even in the Caliphate. Even more now that they were in retreat.

It must have been brought to the bank office in this regional trading center from the vaults of Mosul, before Mosul fell, for safekeeping. And then what? Simply forgotten? Well, not by everybody. Now Mosul, along with most of the Caliphate, was back in the hands of the Rafidha, but someone knew, and orders reached their commander, and last night Bashir and the others were dispatched from their camp to the north. Bashir’s brothers were dead, and his father had disowned him, and his wife had disappeared one night, sneaking across the desert with the baby, but Bashir was still loyal, fighting for god. And if he wasn’t, if he ever stopped, what would he go back to? He had nothing behind him, only the promise of paradise ahead.

They were in three Toyota pickups. A dozen men with AK-47s and a heavy machine gun mounted on the bed of one of the trucks, the other beds left empty to leave room for the money.