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right. Maybe now, he could be reunited with the brother that had been taken away all those years ago. Back then it was traumatic, having not only lost a mother, but also his brother. The brother he knew was alive somewhere but with no idea where. Those in charge seemed to think it was better that they remain separated. He never understood that. Why would anyone separate the two remaining members of a family? Was it because they were different? That’s what Ahmed always believed.
    They’d always been different, and the world they grew up in never let him forget that. They were ridiculed and persecuted all the time they were together. Then, when finally they were split up, it was like the world stopped knowing they even existed. The trips to the desert were the only connection with his family Ahmed had left. It helped him remember his mother’s face every month. He could still picture her vividly, telling him he was the man of the family. Now , he thought, now I really will get to be the man of the family. I will be reunited with my brother and justice will be served upon our persecutors.
     
    Ahmed arrived at his new home, and pulled into the parking garage with gas guage showing empty. He’d been so consumed with what he found in the box, and his thoughts, that he hadn’t even noticed he was running on fumes. Not even locking the car, he  made his way to the dingy basement apartment. Once inside, he locked the door, then dumped the contents of the box onto the kitchen floor.
    He’d never in his life seen so much money in cold, hard cash. There had to be tens of thousands of dollars. Maybe even a hundred thousand. It was hard to count because it was in so many small denominations. The bills weren’t stacked neatly, they were all just crammed into an envelope. The person who put them in probably didn’t even know how much was in there. It was like they had just jammed as much as they could into it and then sealed the envelope. Also in the box were three bus tickets. One to Houston, Texas and two to a place Ahmed had never heard of. Big Springs, Texas. Whatever could be in Big Springs, Texas? Also in the box was a shopping list for chemicals and other materials that Ahmed was unfamiliar with. There were instructions for assembling the list of chemicals and materials into what Ahmed was sure was an explosive device. The final instruction, highlighted in red marker, was for him to commit the list and the other instructions to memory and then destroy the list.
    The box contained two photographs. Ahmed topped the list, and paid no heed to the stacks of money that he dumped out of the envelope. How much cash was there no longer held any interest for him when he saw the face in the photograph. The man in the photograph was much bigger than he’d remembered. He instantly knew, however, who the person was. The picture had to be fairly recent. There was Harish, all grown up. He recognized the features instantly. The shape of his face, the slight crook of his nose, and that scar on his forehead from the bullies in the laneway. Ahmed had no doubt that this was his brother. The instructions on the back of the photograph gave an address, and told him to convince Harish to make the trip with him from Houston to Big Springs.
    The second photograph in the box was of a young man in a cowboy hat with two small children, also taken recently. Ahmed flipped the picture over. The writing on the back read, This man is guilty of atrocities against our people, he is your target. His name is Dawson Chambers .

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8 ~ The Man Cave
    It was 5:30 in the morning as Jake walked onto his back deck and surveyed the yard with his new prize possession prominently figuring in the landscape. Maggie hadn’t been too crazy about the idea of building a 1500-square-foot shed in the backyard, but Jake promised to blend it in with plenty of landscaping. It was a pretty nice-looking shed, hardly deserving of the moniker shed . That