Rayan - Son of the Desert. Indira Jackson
“Who is the guy? A movie star?“
Again the reply was this intense gaze that clearly told him to mind his own business. Then she looked him in the eye for a couple of seconds and Rayan was afraid she might have recognized him. However, what he saw instead was that she was attracted to him. He smiled at her and watched her icy persona melt away.
“No. You know … I am an author and I am writing a book.“ Obviously she wanted to impress him and not to be mistaken as some kind of “groupie“.
"Well isn’t that interesting?“, he said with a double meaning that only he himself could understand and added in his mind "unbelievable - now they even write books about me …“
"And who has this guy murdered to earn this kind of attention?“, he asked again provocatively.
“No one!”, she answered, sounding offended. “He is just a fascinating personality: rich - with big influence within Europe and he is also well connected to America.“
Again Rayan could suppress only with effort a smirk and thought "if only you knew… “.
He started to really enjoy this game and decided to exaggerate a little more: "Ah yes. Now I know who you are talking about. It is the guy that has invented the computer – what was his name again, Bill Gates?“
The answer was again the critical gaze from those wonderful green eyes and for a moment he was afraid he had taken the game too far.
"No, he is Arab – a real Sheikh!“, she took the effort to answer.
"I see! Oil and such? Well, no wonder he is rich“, he replied harmlessly.
Now her voice had a conspirative tone: "No. No oil! That is the curious thing: no one knows exactly where he gets his money from and, as far as I know, no one up to now has asked this question openly …“
“And that would be just what I need”, Rayan thought ironically to himself.
The following one-and-a-half hours literally flew by. He asked her questions and she shared with much enthusiasm her knowledge about “the Sheikh”.
Rayan was intrigued with how much energy she talked about "her project“ and "her book“.
He noted how she looked attractive when her emotions got the better of her. Some strands of blond hair had become loose from her ponytail and hung a little wildly around her face, which only deepened her natural charisma. She had used just a tiny bit of makeup to underline her natural beauty, so therefore he could see that her cheeks had turned red. While she described to him her ideas, using quite a lot of gestures, her green eyes flashed. He regretted mildly that unfortunately in the end she would end up in a dead-end street. Because a book about him? Absolutely ridiculous – No way!
It was his friend and bodyguard Ibrahim, with a meaningful look at his watch from afar at the front of the cabin, who reminded him that not much time was left until touchdown and that he still had to change his clothes before getting off the plane …
Consequently, he politely excused himself, thanked her for the nice conversation and said as he was leaving: "I get around a lot in the world. Who knows? Maybe I will meet your Sheikh. Then I will give him your greetings Miss …?“ "Carina, Carina Hartmann“, she said with that beautiful smile of hers.
A moment later Rayan passed by Ibrahim and went through the curtain that separated the first class from the rest of the plane.
The look from those mesmerizing dark-blue eyes had gotten under Carina’s skin so much that she realised only too late, that he had never introduced himself.
2014 – Airport of Dubai – Coincidence or fate?
"Dear passengers, we have to ask you for your patience for a moment until a special guest has left the aircraft. Please excuse the inconvenience that this may cause you. “
Carina could hardly believe her eyes: from where she was seated she had a good view of the front exit and this special person turned out to be her new, mysterious acquaintance from first class. However, he was no longer dressed in his chic polo-neck and jacket, instead he had changed into a typical traditional Arab robe; this dark blue garment suited him incredibly! But why had he changed?
Two additional men were with him: one of them was the dark-looking guy that had stood guard at the entrance to first class. It became clear now to her that he was not his acquaintance, but rather a body-guard.
Her new friend smiled one last time at her – boldly it seemed – and then he went straight and more than a little self-confidently towards the exit.
Carina felt like she was hit by a hammer. What had just happened there? "VIP – did I miss something?“, Carina thought to herself, confused.
At this moment one of the flight attendants said quietly to her:
"Miss Hartmann? I have a personal letter from the Sheikh for you.“ From the Sheikh? Which Sheikh? Although Carina had not said this aloud, the question must have been clearly visible on her face.
Now it was the flight attendants turn to look confused: "Well, Sheikh Rayan Suekran al Medina y Nayran – you were talking to him before? Did the gentleman not introduce himself?“
HE – the Sheikh?
“Oh my god! He has made a fool out of me all this time! No wonder he had that ironic smile on this face from time to time.” Obviously the man had enjoyed himself – at her cost! Carina felt that her face was flushed red by embarrassment. However, this feeling turned quickly into hot anger.
On impulse she undid her seatbelt and jumped to her feet. Before the flight attendant even realised what was happening, Carina had run half-way through business-class to the exit. Only there she suddenly stopped: what could she do anyway? Call to him how unfair and impertinent he had been? And why was he able to speak such good German, almost without any accent?
She just refused to believe it – she went on a trip to Arabia to find out something there about the person she admired and then she sat personally next to him and did not even realise it.
Meanwhile the Sheikh had gone down the gangway where a red carpet had been rolled-out for him. A black Maybach 62S limousine was already waiting for him.
Next to the car a high-ranking officer from the Arabian police was standing and greeted him with a low bow.
Carina could not understand the words but she could clearly see that he was full of subservience.
“You would think he is afraid”, she thought with interest. Could that be true?
On both sides of the limo more officers in uniform stood straight up-right, saluting their hands in greeting. This guard of honour consisted of five men on each side. What a deployment!
A small, but quite attractive, Arab stepped out of the car and greeted the Sheikh by putting both his arms around him with great respect. They kissed each other on the cheek, as it was custom to do. On the small Arab’s face was a beaming smile, he seemed genuinely happy to see his guest.
As Carina had a better perspective of the scene due to her higher position at the door of the plane, she suddenly noticed a movement a little to the left of the aircraft. It was obviously a technician who had started to work on the Rolls-Royce turbine of the Airbus. Or wasn’t it?
Later Carina could not recall exactly what it was that had attracted her attention, but the moment she looked directly at the man he all of a sudden had a gun with silencer in his hand. He positioned himself and took aim. Oh my god! The Sheikh!
For a split-second time seemed to stand still for Carina. Why did nobody do anything? With horror she realised that she was obviously the only one that had seen the guy. Then everything happened very fast: she started to scream and almost at the same moment the man fired several bullets with his Walther P99.
What exactly Carina exclaimed she did not know, but the left one of the two body-guards reacted out