Tag: wmds

The Circle

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“Matthew,” she yells, but hears no answer.
She walks upstairs to their bedroom. Everything is the way she left it before
going out. She goes toward the bathroom and before entering, sees his body
through the half-opened door.
“Oh, my God!” she yells to herself. “Oh my God, Matthew…” She leans
against the door frame of the bathroom. “Oh, my God, you found the courage for
that!” It seems as if she’s waiting for an answer from her dead husband.
She lets her body slide down along the door frame to the floor of the bathroom,
and sits staring at him. All the clocks of the world suddenly stop, and Emily
Roberts exists in a timeless state, in a condition of self-absorption and
contemplation, as if amid the petals of a diaphanous flower, or amid the thorns of
a crown an invisible hand has placed on top of her head, and her blood begins to
trickle down her forehead like in a crucifixion. Then suddenly, time strikes loudly
on her left tympanum and pierces her head to the right, making her blink as if
trying to find consolation among the myriad bad thoughts flooding her mind. The
world doesn’t have any consolation for Emily Roberts, not now, not at this
moment, not today. The world has turned into a new purgatory and Emily floats
like a masked misery searching for the proper face. She feels an inexplicable
numbness; not hatred anymore, not anger, not joy—but a feeling of immense
freedom from the chain she has dragged for such a long time. She feels no pain, but
what is it she feels? Is she filled with fear or is she light as a feather, like a free
butterfly flitting from one flower to the other? Time strikes again as if hitting a
loud cymbal and brings her back to this world where she has things to do. She
needs to call Jennifer; she needs to call the police; perhaps she has to call Bevan;
and yes, she needs to call Talal. Oh, God, how she needs to call him now.
She runs downstairs and picks up the phone.
She dials Talal’s number first.
He answers, “hi, sweetheart, what’s up?”
“Matthew. Matthew is dead.”
“What? How? Are you okay? I’m coming right over. Stay calm, I’ll be right
there.”
She dials Jennifer’s cell number.
Jennifer answers, “hi mom, how are you?”
“Sweetheart, it’s your dad. Come home, please. Your dad is dead.”
Jennifer is with Hakim in Ibrahim’s hotel room. They have helped him from the
clinic to his suite at the Sheraton. She’s flabbergasted hearing about her dad being
dead. She says aloud, “What happened? How? I’m coming home, right now.”
Hakim, who has overheard, says, “What happened? Is everything alright?”
“No honey, I have to go home, right now, please. My dad is dead.”

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The Circle

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incinerated bodies, and pain. Then she remembers the body of a man next to
hers and she is being violated. Her mind, suddenly feels as if it is exploding when
she realizes what had really happened.
She turns to Matthew and says, “So, you have come to enjoy necrophilia
these days, Matthew Roberts. You must be really desperate. You obviously
couldn’t wait until morning.”
He turns looking at her with a smile.
“You looked so attractive, sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.”
Suddenly the room becomes dark and an explosive anger overtakes her
whole body; her eyes darken and her heart accelerates in a frenetic rhythm as if to
break through her chest and run away, burning everything in its path.
“Of course, you couldn’t resist using your weekend whore. That’s what you
always do, five minutes for your pleasure; five minutes is always enough for you
to find your manhood at its peak. The thought of how you view lovemaking
makes me puke,” she yells.
He’s flabbergasted by her outburst; he has never seen his Emily in this state of
mind. This is not his Emily, the quiet calm person he has known all those years.
She screams from the depths of her larynx and her voice carries such disgust,
such pain, such nausea that his eyes and mouth open wide and he doesn’t know
what to do or say. Suddenly, he interrupts her.
“What is it, sweetheart? Why all this commotion?”
“Don’t sweetheart me! Don’t you ever dare sweetheart me again, Matthew
Roberts. I’ve had enough of that. I have had enough of that, do you hear me? I’m
not your sweetheart or your weekend whore, anymore!”
He ducks down as if expecting her to throw something. He has never seen her
this way. He becomes apologetic.
“What would you like me to do, Emily?”
But her anger is so fierce and unappeased that she can no longer think logically.
She yells out her frustration and pain, “When you come to the point of violating me
when I’m asleep, I don’t know what you want me to say, Matthew. You are
despicable! You make me sick! Yes, my God, how you make me sick! I don’t even
want to look at you anymore.Why the hell do I put up with your crap all the time?
For the stupid salary you earn; for the stupid agency you work for; for the stupid life
you and I lead? It makes me sick to think of all that. Yes, Matthew Roberts, it makes
me sick! You make me sick. I want you out of here. Are you listening to me? I want
you out of here, out of my life! I’m not your weekend whore, anymore. Go, go to
your stupid hotel where you spend every day of the week. You may as well spend
your weekends there. Why did you come here? For your five-minute fuck?” The
tears course down her cheeks, and she wonders why she has not revolted before?

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The Circle

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and then when they retire, most often they collapse from the stress of the
years they spent at work and away from home, like Matthew. What have you
been doing all your life, sweet Emily? What have you been doing for Emily? You
said the other day that you would like to get into underwater photography. How
are you going to do that being married to a man who has no time for his wife, let
alone for what his wife likes to do?”
Emily looks at him, but is at a loss for words. She knows he’s right, although
she’s afraid to admit that even to herself. The world is a scary place without
money, she knows. She also knows Matthew and Emily hardly make it on his
salary.
“It’s scary to think of being out there without the means to survive, sweet
Talal,” she utters, as if to convince herself that that is the most important thing at
this time.
“Yes, I agree. But what will you do to survive is the question, my sweet Emily.
Do you sell out what counts for the security of having money? This is a call we all
have to make.”
“That’s right, my love, do you sell out what counts?” she asks, instead of
answering his question.
He smiles brightly at her as if trying to see into her very soul and says, “No, sweet
Emily, you never sell out, no matter what. Because if you do, how can you face
yourself in themirror and say you have been true to yourself; I have been true to my
integrity, I haven’t sold out. That is what counts in life and that’s the reason I would
never sell out.”
“Perhaps you are right. But it’s different for a man than for a woman.” She
points out.
“No, my love, there is no difference. It’s only a matter of personal belief, a
matter of effort, a matter of achievement, a matter of commitment, that’s all!”
She lays her head on his shoulder and says nothing more, as if listening to the
gap between two words or two breaths, or two of her heartbeats that sound like
the song of a woman in love with this Iraqi man with the sweet voice and the sad
eyes. He’s very pleased that he has made her aware of Matthew’s work, because
he knows that, later, all this will sink in and the result is going to be exactly what
he wants. Talal sits listening to the song of the wind through the small park
where they sit, a song that unfolds slowly and methodically like a majestic eagle
spreading its wings to the heights of the sky.
They begin walking once more, holding hands and observing nature all
around them. They see the bright colors of the trees and flowers, and the shining,
splashing water of the pond where the sun’s rays reflect like crystals. They come
to a smaller pond filled with ducks making all kinds of sounds

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The Circle

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same job that has bought his life out. When he sits in his office he feels like
another piece of furniture or even like the cheap print on the wall. All this for a
salary that keeps him and his family fed, but has kept him forever hungry for all
the other things in life which he has missed out on.
He has lived this life for thirty years of five days everyweek in the same office and
the same crummy hotel room. His life is like a wound up machine, well-oiled,
well-serviced to do as expected of him; a machine that uses little energy and that
produces a bit of something for the people above. Five days aweek away from home
and two days at home with Emily and his daughter Jennifer, who has grown up
without a dad and Emily, with a husband on call, with a life in pieces, in increments,
like an eyedropper giving a drop here and a drop there, enough to keep one seeing
something of life, but not enjoying a real life.
Many a time he has wished for a different job, a different life closer to his
family, but it’s too late now, too late for change. Retirement is coming soon and
he looks forward to that.
He gets ready monotonously, like a robot doing things as if wound up, like a
wound-up little man that kids play with, with his brand new batteries every day,
the same routine, every day the same sequence from getting up in the morning to
going to bed late at night. The TV, his opium, there to keep him company; the
TV close by, but his wife and daughter and everything else a human being likes to
have close, always far away.
In his office he doesn’t even say good morning to the receptionist, who has
been his smile-of-the-day kind of a person. She’s surprised when he doesn’t talk
to her on his way by. She knows something heavy sits on his heart; she has
noticed over the last few years that this man is just an automaton and the softness
of his heart—the heart she remembers from the first days she met him—is just
not there anymore. What a job can do to a person is amazing, but it isn’t her
place to ask him about it or to do anything about it. She knows that’s where his
wife comes in—when a man has something heavy in his heart. Dorothy also
knows she isn’t his wife, so she let his wife worry about it. But does his wife care
to know what sits heavily in her husband’s heart? Dorothy has never met Mrs.
Roberts.
It’s about nine o’clock, the usual time he dials the number to reach home.
“Hello there, honey,” he says, when Emily answers the phone.
“Hi Matthew. How are you, today?” A question asked for the millionth time,
and here comes the answer, repeated for the millionth time.
“I’m okay; how are things at home?”
“Everything is the same,” deep in Emily’s heart, she wishes things could be
different for a change.

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The Circle

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She’s proud of her body and doesn’t hesitate to show it off. She takes
her seat and orders a glass of red wine, as well.
When seated and relaxed, she looks at Emily. Suddenly, she brings her hand
to her mouth and says, “Oh, my God, what is it? Tell me it isn’t—Emily, what’s
going on?”
Emily leans a bit closer.
“What is it? I’m just a happy woman. That’s all.”
“Who is he? Tell me, I know there’s someone. Just tell me who he is!”
Emily laughs at her, and admits, “Yes, there is someone. I’m crazy, Cathy! I’m
crazy to feel this way at my age. I’m crazy, you can say that!”
“Oh no, love, I don’t think you’re crazy at all. Just take a deep breath, and tell
me all about it.”
Emily sips her wine and talks slowly, as if afraid of people in the restaurant
hearing her talk, or as if she is afraid Matthew will hear from where he is. She’s
almost whispering and Cathy has to lean in close to understand her.
At one point, Cathy interrupts her and says, “My dear Emily, I have been
wondering for a long time when this moment would come. You know, with Matt
always so busy working and out of town. I’m proud of you. Life is for everyone,
you know? We all deserve a share in the sun. The question, of course, is when are
you going to tell Matt? Oh yes, one more question. You lucky girl, a
thirty-something-year-old? Is that Talal’s age?”
Emily laughs again and they both sip their wine. They have ordered salads
and when the waiter serves them they begin eating with relish. As they eat, Cathy
asks, “I suppose no one knows so far? Does Jennifer know?”
“No, no one knows other than you. You must keep it from Bob. I don’t really
know which way things are going to go or which direction I’m going to take right
now.”
Cathy leans closer to her, “There is only oneway to go in things like this, darling,
and that is the way of the heart. Don’t let fear lead you to failure; don’t fail me and
don’t fail yourself. Unless you want to regret it later. One fine day, you’ll wake up
with tears in your eyes and ask the terrible question in front of the mirror.”
“What do you mean? What question?”
“The question that says, ‘how stupid was I not to take the chance when I had
it?’ That’s the question, darling. You see, by that time it’s too darn late, even to
cry about it.”
Emily looks at her and admits Cathy has a good point. Deep in her heart, she
already knows what she wants to do, yet the fear is there, staring at her with a
sardonic smile. Thinking about it makes her spine squirm. How is she going to
find the courage to do what she wants?

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The Circle

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HAKIM ISONHISWAY to the Sheraton Hotel to meet his uncle so they can go
together to the medical center. He’s worried about what they will find out, but he
doesn’t want this to show. He wants to be courageous and strong for his uncle.
They arrive by limousine and a specialist meets them in a consultation room.
He confirms what’s already known about the tumor in Ibrahim’s liver. He
indicates it’s a very small-sized malignancy. At this stage, it’s unclear what type of
cancer it is, but he confirms that the tumor is a new type they don’t know very
much about. Therefore, it would be inappropriate for him to tell Ibrahim with any
certainty that it will respond positively to the new chemotherapy. For that reason,
he’ll start Ibrahim on a light dose. The specialist has arranged for Ibrahim to be
admitted to a private clinic where the medication is to be administered, and he’ll
be monitored twenty-four hours a day.
The specialist stops briefly, but continues to look at Ibrahim and Hakim to
ensure that, so far, everything is understood. Then he carries on.
“If we see that the drug doesn’t produce any adverse effects, the second dose,
and the third and fourth, can be given orally in the form of a pill that you can take
on your own, in the comfort of your own home. However, the first time the drug
is administered, we would like to monitor you very closely at the clinic. I’ll leave
you alone for a few minutes to absorb what I’ve told you. Then I’ll return with
further instructions.”
He gets up and the other two follow him out of the consultation room.
Hakim turns and gazes him. Ibrahim is pale and shaken. This is the first time
Hakim sees his uncle with fear in his eyes. The pride and gracefulness that he
possessed are gone. A layer of fear has taken over like a black shroud covering the
old man’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t worry they do miracles with medicine these days.” Hakim says
trying to relieve his uncle’s gloom.
“I guess so,” his uncle nods in agreement. “But, it means I cannot go home yet.”
“When were you planning to go home?”
“As soon as I’m done with these guys dear boy; Mara is most anxious for me
to get home; however, now she has to wait for a few more days.”
“You have to be here for only one or two more days so they can see …

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The Circle

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Thursday morning Los Angeles opens her eyes, staring at the sun rising steadily
on the eastern horizon, gifting the city with warmth and joy. Even the homeless
smile this morning knowing it will be easier to locate food in the restaurant garbage
bin or the neighborhood pub garbage; there’s always something edible
there. The smog overarches the city touching the taller buildings, sitting lazily on
top of the high-rises. Rush hour is beginning and traffic increases with bottlenecks
in main arteries. One can hear the morning sounds of the commercial,
business center as people slowly reach to their destinations, stores open their
doors and customers rush in.
Ibrahim Hazim Mahdi sips his morning coffee and reads the latest news. He’s
pleased with the way his day went yesterday; he felt pride with Hakim next to
him all along. Sometimes, he remembers having asked Allah why he wasn’t
gifted with a son of his own, yet that was years ago. These days he takes what
comes his way as a gift from the Almighty because he knows the days of each are
counted first by Him and next by His people.
Ibrahim knows deep in his heart that Hakim is going to do just fine with the
money that he’s leaving for him. He also knows that Hakim will take good care of
his Auntie Mara, as long as Allah choses to keep her in this world. Despite all
these positive thoughts there still lingers an unexplained anxiety which has taken
hold of his mind and makes his heart ache; yet he cannot find the reason for it.
He wonders why he feels this now, after has taken care of everything.
The phone rings and he answers to a girl’s voice.
“Good morning, I’m calling from the medical center. Mr. Mahdi, please.”
“This is Ibrahim Mahdi.”
“Sir, I need to arrange an appointment for you with the specialist who
examined you. He has the results from your tests. What would be the best time
for you later today?”
“Any time is fine, young lady.”
“Alright then, is one in the afternoon okay?”
“Yes, that will be fine; I’ll be there at one.”

It’s early evening in Baghdad, and Ibrahim decides to call Mara. He dials his
number at home. The maid gets the phone and calls his wife.
“Hello,” he says, “how are you? I haven’t talked to you for two days.”
He hears Mara weeping on the other end and asks, “Why are you crying, my
beloved? I’ll be home in a couple of days. Is everything alright?”
“Yes, everything is alright,” she manages to say while sobbing. “Are you really
on your way home soon?” She doubts him.

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The Circle

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Could she be cheating on him? Matthew has been married for a long time; he’s a
fifty-five-year-old established bureaucrat. Why suddenly does he have all this
anxiety about his wife being unfaithful?
He turns on his other side and crawls under the sheets. He changes the TV
channel and slowly his eyes grow tired. He feels all the emptiness in his stomach
and in his heart. Then his worrisome mind slows down and he falls asleep.
“What did Dad have to say, Mom?” Jennifer asks.
“Nothing important, honey, the same old story.”
“Is he coming home on the weekend? I heard you telling him Hakim has
gone to New York. Did he say anything about that?”
“No honey, nothing. He says he’ll be home on the weekend.”
Jennifer goes upstairs to her room and Emily pours herself a drink.

Wednesday morning in New York and the sky is clear. A tired city awakens from
a last night of excitement and partying. New York is a city that never sleeps, like
Las Vegas. New York has the reputation as being the best entertainment city in
North America, although the big corporations running the Las Vegas casinos
like to think their city is the best in that department.
Hakim is up. He gazes at the view of the waterway. Far to his right he can see
the boats as well as cars in the streets. He has been up for a while when Ibrahim
comes into his room, prepared for the day.
“Good morning, my uncle.”
“Good morning, my dear son.”
Ibrahim calls Rassan to order their breakfast. While they wait Ibrahim calls
his lawyer, William Polson.
He speaks to the receptionist, “Good morning, this is Ibrahim Mahdi. I amin
New York and I would like to talk to William.”
It takes a few moments before a person answers.
“Good morning, Ibrahim, how are you? Welcome to New York. Where are
you staying?”
“Good morning, William. I am at the Manhattan Sheraton as always. I want
you to get Bill Wanton and Regis Hudson and come over for an hour, some time
after eleven. I need you all for an hour or so. Get Regis and Bill to bring along the
necessary forms for new accounts. You also need to prepare a power of attorney
and bring it along.”
“That sounds good, Ibrahim; I’ll put everything together. I’ll confirm our
timing within half an hour.”

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The Circle

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Their flight is a five-hour affair. They have first-class seats and are served a
light lunch once the plane is in the air. Hakim is hungry and enjoys the food,
although Ibrahim eats only a bit of his. They each enjoy a glass of red wine.
Hakim asks the same question as on the previous day.
“My uncle, you promised to tell me more about the work Matthew Roberts and
the Admiral do for the CIA, do you remember?”
Ibrahim takes a deep breath, smiles, and says,
“It is a long story, my dear boy; however, in a nutshell, this is it. They both
work for a department that goes by the code name the ‘Circle’. They are located
in Washington D.C., not in Langley. In their department 130 people analyze
intelligence, data, and information, and make recommendations to the
Executive Branch. This is where decisions about war take place. Based on the
recommendations of the Admiral, who bases his decisions on the analyses of
Matthew’s people, the war room as some call it, takes its stand against any enemy
as circumstances dictate.”
He stops and takes a deep breath. Ibrahim does that a lot more often, Hakim
notices. The old man looks at his nephew, wondering how far he can still go with
this.
“They are the basis of a detailed system that undermines the governments of
various countries, based on what their goals are and serving their interests the
best way possible. They formed the basis for the decision to go against Saddam
Hussein in the war of 2003. That department of the CIA is the one which sexed
up the propaganda before the war.”
“In other words, they are the reason the war started?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way exactly; however, they had a lot to do with it.
You see, they are not the final decision makers of the government, but they make
recommendations based on data. They have a plan of action for any foreseeable
event, which could turn the outcome of their strategy one way or another. They
plan with various options always before them, and even then they prove to be
wrong on many occasions. There’s always a variable that cannot be predicted
ahead of time, and when it comes to play, it alters the results time and time again.
This is the same reason they are wrong so many times—the unpredictability of
the reactions of people to certain events and to intelligence. Every time you think
how or why a decision has to be made, it’s like being in a maze, and you can only
hope for the outcome you have predicted.”
He stops for a while, calls the flight attendant and orders two glasses of wine.
Hakim takes a sip of his wine, looks at his watch, and estimates they are halfway
to New York. His uncle looks tired. Yet Hakim wants to know more.
“What else do you know, my uncle?”

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The Circle

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Now Hakim finds the opportunity to get back to the subject which has been
on his mind for the past two days.
“Please tell me, my uncle, what you know about Jennifer’s dad and the
Admiral? What work, in particular, do they do for the CIA?”
Ibrahim looks at him closely, “It is a long story,my son; however, you deserve
the truth. I promise we’ll discuss that on our trip to New York; leave it alone for
the time being. By the way, let me ask you a question. How do you see your
relationship with young Jennifer? How do you see yourself in the next little while
with her, or is she just a flirt whom you’ll leave behind when you return home?
You know, you may find yourself with a lot more responsibilities than you have
in mind so far.”
Hakim is unprepared for such a discussion, but Ibrahim is right; he has to
make up his mind regarding his relationship with Jennifer, sooner or later. He
asks himself the same question sometimes and doesn’t have the answer. He’s not
sure where he wants their relationship to go, not yet.
“I don’t know, my uncle; I like Jennifer. I like her a lot, but I haven’t thought
of anything beyond the present. She’s just a girl I see these days.”
“You mean she hasn’t touched you in a special way?”
Really, has she touched him in a special way? He wonders. He turns and looks
deep into his uncle’s eyes, and the old man who knows life sees in Hakim’s eyes a
young man in love. He smiles at him and says, “I see that she has touched you in a
lot of different ways, my dear son. That being said, you are a young man, and a
young woman will always be welcomed next to you. Whomever you choose to
have next to you is going to be my favorite one. Remember, always remember
the priority of things and devote the necessary time to each. You will learn as you
go. She also has to know how far she can go with her wants, when you need to put
extra time into the family business. Women are always welcome in the life of a
man, particularly a young man. Our relationships with them are of a certain
kind; each of us has his own way of defining that, and each of us learns from his
own experience with a woman who we are and what we like in life. But always
remember that you give your woman the part of you that belongs to her, and the
rest of you belong to you and nobody else.”
Hakim appreciates his uncle’s comments and doesn’t hesitate to let him know.
“I know, my uncle, I appreciate your advice on everything. Your opinion is
always most important to me. That’ll never change, I promise.”
“Thank you, my dear son.”
Before they part Hakim learns he has to be at the hotel the next morning at
about seven, as their flight is at 10:15 a.m. and they have to be at the airport two
hours earlier.

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