The Devil's Handshake

34

Bangkok

The sweat caused by the unrelenting heat and humidity of Bangkok dripped down the back of Ahmet Abylow’s neck as the air-conditioning was still switched off to save on fuel while he was going over his final pre-flight checks on the IL-76 aircraft.

The young man had the look of a person on a personal crusade brought about by years of bitterness over his circumstances. He was originally educated in Switzerland and the plan had been to join the air force of Turkmenistan for a few years to fly MIG-29s before joining his father in his business. The assassination of his father though had ended that dream abruptly. Fearing for the lives of his mother and two younger sisters alongside him, Ahmet had left his homeland forever the night that happened.

With no access to any of his father’s wealth, apart from the cash he had hidden away in Dubai, Ahmet had used the skills for flying to get rated on, IL-76, Airbus A300, and 747’s to enable him to feed his family by flying beaten-up cargo planes in and out Africa and Asia.

It wasn’t until 2011 when having gone into business with the pirate he had met in one of Bur Dubai hotel bars and was, by a happy coincidence, looking for a pilot to fly cargo in and out of Somalia that Ahmet had found his life picking up. So much so he was looking at buying an old 727 to add to the fleet.

Then earlier this year as he sat in his friend’s hotel in Borama having an espresso he couldn’t believe who appeared before his eyes.

The very person, who was known, though nobody had ever proved it, to have ordered the murder of his father, the famous Oligarch who had become a legend in Turkmenistan over the deal he had once done with his father when he had brought one of his whores, walked through the lobby.

“Allah, please allow me to avenge my father!” he had asked spitting on the floor in disgust at the time. Now it appeared such a chance was going to be granted.

When he first saw the cargo that was being loaded up, Ahmet had quickly worked out that his friend and his new Indian business partner were planning a possible coup d’état.

He didn’t care; he saw it as ‘Kismet.’ Deciding there and then he would kill the Englishman and in his eyes regain his family’s honor under the law of qan dushar, a term that means ‘blood reaches’ and a unwritten right still practiced by the tribes of Turkmenistan that allowed an individual with a common patrilineal ancestor who is not more than seven generations removed to seek revenge on the killer and their immediate kin.

The plans of Wasir represented a perfect opportunity for him to do so.

“We’re ready, Ahmet!” said his Bosnian-Croat Co-pilot.

“Right let’s get this show on the road,” answered the young Captain.