The Storm
“As dusk draped a cloak over the world, he savored a dinner of lamb with fresh-made flatbread and sliced tomatoes. Around him gauzy drapes wafted in the soft breeze while the sound of waves crashing against the nearby cliffs played its soothing, repetitive song.A servant arrived and whispered in his ear.Sabah listened and nodded. A slight wrinkle of aggravation crossed his forehead at the news.The servant took his plate, and Sabah reclined with a glass of black tea. The sound of approaching footsteps halted beneath the archway.“I request an audience with you,” a figure in the shadows reported.“I would say you already have one,” Sabah replied, “since you are in my presence, invited or otherwise.”“I do not mean to disturb you,” the man said. “I waited while you dined.”Sabah motioned to a seat. “Come sit with me, Mustafa. We are old friends, ever since the first war with Israel. The weapons you provided did not help us to win, but they allowed me to bolster al-Khalif and his family.
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