Ambition

Fortune was with Ishmal. From humble beginnings in the East side of London he had worked his way from dirt poor to corporate high flier. All that met him new he was special. Sharp, good looking and just a great person to be around. He brought out the best in people and was respected for his business acumen. He had focused on work until his 40th year when he met Sylvia on a business trip to Jordan. The romance was brief and torrid in the best Hollywood tradition, long nights in the desert, trips to exotic locations, you get the picture.

He knew he was in love and that she loved him and so they declared their never ending partnership. Ishmal didn’t have any living relatives he knew about and Sylvia’s folks would never condone a marriage to an infidel, even a rich one. The arrangement worked and Sylvia became pregnant. At about this time he was offered the leadership of his companies Middle East operations. He could not refuse. The position was just two steps away from his goal.

Sylvia hated the country. It was evil, mean and just stupid but she had the new child and for four years she spent her time caring for the boy, watching satellite TV and accompanying her husband on the frequent trips back to head office (which she loved) and to the various despotic countries within her loves domain (which she hated but tolerated for her lover). She always made a point to dress as closely as possible to the local women, particularly the fashionable ones, and so she had accumulated a somewhat exotic if not eclectic wardrobe.

They were running late. The local team had arranged a special dinner for the regional boss and his lovely family. They pushed through the hotel doors into the ridiculous heat of the city street, Sylvia literally dragging little Rami behind. Ishmal noted the rather hot and bored looking camera man looking at him quizzically and paid no more attention. They were nearly an hour late already.

As they headed down the street to Ishmal caught a flash out of the corner of his eye.