The Diamond Fist: Chapter 8

Hi all! Chapter 8 is finally here.

As a reminder, we last left Liam hacking into James' Facebook account and coming across 'SaveEgypt' after Lauren disappears.

Chapter 8

Mustafa

“Very impressive, Youssef. Where did you learn these skills?”

Youssef and I sat at the desk, looking at the sleek, black laptop. Youssef had created a website and had already uploaded it for our... cause. It was to be called SaveEgypt.eg and we would pose as a group, attempting to bring back stability in Egypt. It was true, in a sense. When I was still in power, everything was stable. Now, Egypt would descend into mess.

But it was I who was the catalyst.

“Look at the board! Now. Can anyone tell me, from what we learned last lesson, what is an enzyme?”

The boy at the front, with the curly hair, shoots his hand. “It is a biological catalyst, miss, which helps to digest food.”

Mustafa and his friends sit sniggering at the back, muttering words such as “teacher’s pet” and making comments about memorising textbooks. Waleed ripped off a piece of paper from the corner of his exercise book and put it at the end of a juice straw in his pocket. It shot at the curly boy’s head. The back burst into roars of laughter as the teacher pursed her lips and frowned at the class.

I was reminded of a biology class when I had begun secondary school, where I had behaved badly and paid no attention in class. It was strange to think how different, as a person, I had become. I largely accredited that to my time as a Prisoner Of War, when I was tortured for information.

Previously, I had been a child that paid little to no attention in class. I had let off fireworks in the corridors and put buckets of flour on doors, which would tip over onto those who opened the door. I had barely managed to escape expulsion in school and barely even managed to get to university—largely through frantic studying.

Even so, I did not want to become an engineer—I wanted to be someone big and famous. But my father and mother forced me to do it as it was “a career with satisfaction”. I would enjoy it, according to them. Reluctantly, I applied for the course, in the hope that they would “shut their mouths”.

In my second year of university, war broke out. I was called to serve in the army. This was my chance to show who I really was, what Egypt was. I wanted to be the hero.

After we landed on the other side of the Suez canal, the beginning of our offensive, I raced ahead.

“Hey, Musta, come here and help me out to set up this SAM!”

But I raced ahead, ignoring my commands to help set up the Surface-to-Air Missiles, which would give us a few kilometres of cover from air attacks. I was aiming for the enemy base.

And then, I found myself captured, along with five other soldiers that tried to follow me and bring me back.

It pains me, every time I speak of even think about it. Even now, I have rogue dreams of enemy soldiers screaming at me, attempting to extract information.

I still feel the sharp jabs at my stomach that sent electric currents running through my skin.

I still remember.

“Mustafa?”

I pulled my gaze away from the depths of space and faced Youssef. The worry etched in the wrinkles on his face was clear, but I was quick to assure him that my plans would work. It was evident what he was worrying, about. “I can handle any pain, for I am titanium.”

Youssef stared at me, nonplussed.

“Youssef, do you remember our conversation when I redirected you to this... bunker?”

Slowly, he nodded, but with the same expression on his face. I pressed on. “I would say that quote during sessions while they tried to extract information from me. It is my time to seek revenge.

“This country is my plaything,” I said. “Already, I have considered giving up my hopes of reinstatement. Do you know the pleasure of being in control, Youssef? It is a great one. You dictate what happens. I am the one who makes history.

“And now, I think it is time for a Cartoon-style evil laugh,” I chuckled.

However, Youssef did not appear impressed. “Is this a game, Mustafa? It appears to be very sick if so. Are you glad that your country is descending into mess? Is this for fun–”

Youssef’s face began to flush. I was slightly sceptical at trying to guess–anger perhaps? Or would it be fear? Nevertheless, I interrupted to calm him. “Youssef, why did you join me when the world abandoned me? Why did you not use me when the rest of the world did? Why did you not hate me when the world did?”

“Because the world used you! The world used you and disguised their misdeeds as helping Egypt. You were the right, they were wrong; all reports you received were wrong. You know the Health Minister? He lied. The Housing Minister? He lied also.  They’re all millionaires.  Billionaires. I was never true to you–I lied too. I was a liar–the worst of them all!”

I was stunned by this sudden outburst. I considered interrupting to calm him down, but he  “Fifteen years of trust? Fifteen years of lies. This is our fault.  I am the only one who will serve you as an apology. Oh Mustafa, this is my apology to you. Let me help you return to power.  Let me serve you.”

I was... speechless, for lack of a better word. My trusted assistant, Youssef, who had stayed with me in these long fifteen years of my presidency–a liar? No. This was all a lie. This world was a lie.

It did not matter anymore. They had been exposed. I had a vague idea of this, but I trusted Youssef. Could I trust him anymore? He admitted to tampering with important reports, yet... It began to make sense.

But I would press ahead with my plans.

“When I am back in power, Youssef, I will have my revenge on them all. Every. Single. One. Every liar, every man, child, woman who attempted to ruin this nation would have my revenge. Wael Kareem was the worst of them all. I thought it would gain supp–”

“Wael was the best of them,” growled Youssef. “Wael tried to bring good to the government. In your frequent breaks, it was he who ruled. But they did not let him do anything. He was powerless. He still is. You lead this nation when required, but w–they hid the day to day things. They are all liars. They used you.”

Throughout my lifetime, many people had used me. My friends used me to “have a laugh” and to cause mischief that they would never dare to do themselves. My parents used me to watch me succeed when they did not. The enemy used me for information and then this.

“Oh Lord, let these people receive the punishments they deserve,” I murmured under my breath. “Oh Lord, I cannot take this anymore. Give me the strength to carry on.”  It had been a while since I prayed, however, had I not, I was sure to have murdered someone. Or tortured one of the children.

No matter what was my cause or what had they done, no child deserved to be tortured. None at all. I was still a child–albeit a 25 year old child–when I had been captured. History should never repeat itself–however, it had a tendency to do so.

Youssef watched me fixedly as I muttered words under my breath. I sat back for a few minutes, thinking. Then, I remembered what I had found out the day before. “Youssef, do you know Wael’s nephew? I found out something rather... interesting.”

He looked up from the laptop. I leaned to see what he had been doing–putting the final touches to the website–before leaning back.

“His name is Mohamed Kareem. He has a son called Omar. I knew he worked here–I heard from Wael–and he works in a hotel.” I carried on. “We are attacking tourism, yes? Therefore, we are attacking him too. His hotel is right next to this cliff, in fact! Interesting. I think we can play a game with them if you assume the identity of an employee there in water sports. I have no doubts about finding an RPG in the weapons cupboard.”

“The RPG has been locked in the cupboard for nearly 40 years. Will it work?”

 “Even if it did not, I think we will have a fun time. Do try and lure the son onto the speedboat, will you?” I stood up. “Let’s film a video–our first on SaveEgypt.”

And so, the plan began.