Armpits of Rockstar Gem

A week of sitting in a small hotel room in some shit hole of a country, far away from the people who would happily take his life. A week of watching men walk outside smoking hookah pipes, of women with their faces covered, of men on the street yelling at each other in what he presumed was Arabic. A week of eating food that made him sick and drinking coffee that tasted like dirt.

A week of waiting to make his move.

Adam grabbed his suitcase and slid it across the carpeted floor to the door, it’s wheels scratching away at the silence as he pulled it down the hallway. When he reached the exit he pushed open the double doors and stepped into the warmth of the suns morning rays. He scanned his surroundings for any sign of danger before walking down the steps and onto the dusty streets. The car he had rented sat waiting for him across from the hotel, a black sedan with tinted windows that would hopefully be able to blend in. He hoisted up his suitcase again and began walking towards it, forcing himself not to look around for anyone watching him; even if there was no one that could see him through the heavy tinting he didn’t want to take any chances.

He hadn’t gotten very far when a man walked past him so close that their shoulders brushed against each other. Adam kept walking towards his car as if nothing had happened, trying not to let his heart beat out of control or betray any hint that he might be nervous by speeding up just slightly. The car was only a few meters away when another man brushed past him, this time Adam bumped into him on purpose, hoping that they might get into an argument and give him an excuse to fight back if they tried anything.

The second man didn’t say anything or even acknowledge Adam’s bump but continued walking at a leisurely pace behind him as if nothing had happened.

Adam dropped his suitcase and turned around towards the man following him, making sure to roll up his sleeves first so that anyone who saw them would know he was ready for a fight. The second man stopped walking and turned around as well, folding his arms across his chest and looking at Adam with amusement dancing in his eyes.

When neither of them moved for several seconds Adam raised an eyebrow at the man staring at him, “What? You want something?”

The man continued smiling and shook his head slowly before speaking in what was obviously English with a thick Middle Eastern accent, “No you want something boy!” He said with an air of superiority that wouldn’t have been very intimidating if it wasn’t for how big he looked standing there in front of Adam; tall and burly with muscles bulging beneath his jet black shirt, “I am Ahmed!” He explained unnecessarily, pulling out a card from inside his jacket pocket and handing it to Adam while still keeping eye contact with him. “You may call me Al-Ahmed! And I can be your best friend today!” He finished with what Adam assumed was meant to be an enticing smile but only came off as creepy and threatening.

Adam took the card from Ahmed without taking his eyes off of him for even a second, opening it up quickly to read its contents:

- Ahmed Al-Ahmed

- Al-Waqf Trading Company

- 5th Street 32nd District

- Port Al-Khalifa Zone 5388

- Mobile +983 3x865x3xxx4

- Fax +983 3x865x3xxx5

When he finished reading the information on Ahmed’s card he folded it back up carefully and put it in his own pocket before picking up his suitcase again; still keeping eye contact with Ahmed while doing so despite wanting nothing more than to turn around and run back towards the hotel until he made it safely inside where no one could touch him anymore.