Wasim, whose wrists were also bound, was at first afraid to speak, but then he found his voice and said, “It is a kidnapping. Do not be frightened. They kidnap for money. They will not harm us.”
And as Wasim said this, he hoped it was so. A tribal kidnapping of Westerners. It was a common thing–what was called a guest kidnapping–and they would spend a week, perhaps two with a tribe until money was delivered. And then they would be released. These things usually ended well, he knew, and Westerners were rarely harmed, and never killed unless the army intervened and attempted to free those who were taken by the tribes.
Annette, though she was terrified, said to her compatriots, “It is a kidnapping. For ransom. Wasim says not to be --”
“Shut up,” said the tall Bedouin in English. He then said to Wasim in Arabic, “This is not a kidnapping.”
Wasim closed his eyes and began praying aloud.
Bulus ibn al-Darwish, The Panther, drew his curved dagger and moved behind Wasim. With one hand, he pulled Wasim’s head back by his hair, and with his other hand he drew his curved dagger across Wasim’s throat, then shoved the man forward.
Wasim fell face first onto the stone floor of the Temple of the Moon and lay still as his blood flowed quickly and spread across the hot stones.
The Belgians stared in horror, then some of them began screaming and some began crying.
The armed men now forced all the Belgians to their knees, and The Panther moved first to Annette, coming around behind her, and said to her, “So you don’t have to watch the others die,” and with a quick motion, he pulled her head back by her long hair and sliced open her throat with his curved dagger, then moved on to the others.
Some cried or begged for mercy, and some struggled though it was futile because the jihadists held them in a tight grip as The Panther cut their throats. A few accepted their fate quietly. Only one prayed, an elderly woman who The Panther saved for last so she could finish her prayers. It was interesting, he thought, to see how people died.
In less than two minutes, it was over. All nine infidels and Wasim their servant lay on the floor of the temple, their life blood flowing freely onto the ancient stone.
Bulus ibn al-Darwish, al-Numair, The Panther, watched the infidels as, one by one, they went into a final death throe, then lay still.
One, however, the man who was the father of the young woman, suddenly stood, his wrists still bound behind his back, and began running down the stone steps. He quickly stumbled and fell face first onto the stone, then tumbled down the steep steps and came to rest at the bottom.
The Panther said to his jihadists, “I hope he was not injured.”
The men laughed.
The Panther stared at his jambiyah, red with blood, then slid it into its sheath.
He retrieved one of the tourists’ cameras and looked at the digital images on the small screen, which made him smile.
He called to one of his men, “Nabeel,” and handed him the camera to take pictures of the slaughter.
The Panther looked at the dead Europeans and said, “So, you came to Yemen for adventure and for knowledge. And you have found both. A great final adventure, and a great knowledge of this land. You have learned that in Yemen death comes.”
Chapter 2
If Earth had an anus, it would be located in Yemen.
And speaking of assholes, my boss, FBI Special Agent-in-Charge Tom Walsh, wanted to see me, John Corey, at 5:15 P.M., and Detective Corey was now five minutes late. But not to worry–my wife, Kate Mayfield, who also works for Walsh, was on time for the meeting and had undoubtedly made excuses for me, like, “John is in a passive-aggressive mood today. He’ll be here when he feels he’s made his statement.”
Right. Another five minutes. I logged off my computer and looked around the empty cube farm. I work on the 26th floor of 26 Federal Plaza which is located in Lower Manhattan in the shadows of the Twin Towers. Well… not any more. The Towers, I mean. But I’m still here.
It was Friday–what we call Federal Friday–meaning that by 4:30, my colleagues in the War on Terrorism, mostly FBI agents and NYPD detectives, had left to beat the bridge and tunnel traffic, or they’d gone off on special assignments to the
surrounding bars and restaurants. With any luck, I’d be joining them shortly. But first I had to see Tom Walsh, who is in charge of the New York Anti-Terrorist Task Force. And what did Mr. Walsh want to see me about?
His e-mail had said: JOHN, KATE, MY OFFICE, 5:15. PRIVATE. SUBJECT YEMEN.
Yemen? Typo, maybe. Yemex? A new kind of explosive? Maybe he meant, “Yes men.” Too many yes men in the organization.
Walsh doesn’t usually state the subject of a private meeting–he likes to surprise you. But when he does state a subject, he wants you to think about it–he wants it to eat at your guts.
If I thought this out, I could conclude that Tom Walsh wanted to assign Kate and me to the Yemen desk. Do we have a Yemen desk here? Maybe he just wanted us to help him find Yemen on the map.
Another possibility… no, he was not going to ask us to go to Yemen. No, no. I’d been there for a month to investigate the USS Cole bombing. That’s how I found out it was an anal cavity.
I stood, put on my jacket, straightened my tie and brushed the chips off my shoulders–a well-balanced detective has a chip on both shoulders–then made my way toward Walsh’s office.
Books by Nelson DeMille
By the Rivers of Babylon
Cathedral
The Talbot Odyssey
Word of Honor
The Charm School
The Gold Coast
The General’s Daughter
Spencerville
Plum Island
The Lion’s Game
With Thomas Block
Mayday
Spectacular Praise for
THE CHARM
SCHOOL
“HIGHEST MARKS GO TO THE CHARM SCHOOL, WHICH JUST MIGHT BE THE THRILLER OF THE YEAR. It is relentlessly suspenseful, generating excitement on every page and presenting an honest, unflinching portrait of the Soviet Union and its people. The Charm School makes the grade.”
—Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“A HARROWING JOURNEY TO THE HEART OF TOTALITARIAN DARKNESS… a surreal mix of heartland illusion and heartless reality… . The result is a chilling, compelling, disquieting and ultimately devastating tale of police state savagery and superpower treachery.”
—Washington Post Book World
“AN EXCITING, WELL-WRITTEN STORY WITH A LOT MORE ACTION THAN SPY-NOVEL FANS ARE ACCUSTOMED TO… a classic good guys-vs.-bad guys confrontation, a slam-bang ending… . This story gets high marks in suspense, action, and overall readability.”
—San Diego Tribune
“A ROUSING ESPIONAGE ADVENTURE.”
—Dallas Morning News
“SO RIVETING THAT HOLLYWOOD PRODUCERS WILL BE BRAWLING FOR THE MOVIE RIGHTS. No one will stop reading or even pause for the last 100 pages.”
—Boston Herald
“THE CHARM SCHOOL GRABS HOLD OF YOU, DRAGS YOU OFF TO THE SCARIEST RUSSIA IMAGINABLE… and doesn’t let you out until the last page.”
—James Kirkwood, author of Good Times/Bad Times and Some Kind of Hero
“A FIRST-CLASS THRILLER… mixes the wham-bam action of the Firefox novels with Gorky Park’s gritty insight into Soviet life.”
—St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“A TOP-RATE THRILLER WITH A WHITE-KNUCKLE ENDING. A must read for anyone interested in the Soviet mind-set.”
—Dow Jones News/Retrieval
“HIGHLY ENGAGING SUPER-SUSPENSE.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“STUNNING… FASCINATING… DeMille has written a story that engages both the mind and the emotions, and done so with a style that makes it a pleasure to read.”
—West Coast Review of Books
“AN ABSORBING NOVEL, ONE THAT NO READER WILL SOON FORGET. It looks deeply into East-West relations, and, in the end, what it teaches
us about ourselves and Soviet citizens is disquieting and surprising.”
—DeLand Sun News (FL)
CONTENTS
Welcome
Dedication
Map
Acknowledgments
Author’s Foreword
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Part II
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Part III
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Part IV
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Part V
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
A Preview of The Panther
Novels by Nelson Demille
Spectacular Praise for the Charm School
Copyright
Copyright
THE CHARM SCHOOL. Copyright © 2012 by Nelson DeMille.
Excerpt from The Panther copyright © 2012 by Nelson DeMille
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First e-book edition: April 2001
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ISBN 978-0-759-52261-9
Nelson DeMille, The Charm School
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