The Genesis Plague (2010) by Michael Byrnes

gave a big squeeze.
    ‘ Bash’m supas, ey to ?’ Hazo replied.
    ‘Things are good, thank God,’ he boasted. ‘My cousin, why do you wait so long to come and see me! Are we not family?’
    Hazo gave a boyish shrug.
    ‘You look like hell,’ Karsaz teased.
    ‘And you still need to lose weight,’ Hazo jabbed back.
    Karsaz burst out laughing. ‘This is true! So true! My wife, she tells me this every day.’ He hooked a heavy arm over Hazo’s shoulder and held him tight. He swept his hand over the lounge. ‘How do you like this, eh? Finally we finished the renovations.’
    ‘It’s beautiful,’ Hazo replied truthfully. ‘You are a blessed man.’
    ‘Yes. I’m very happy with this.’ He gave another affectionate squeeze with his arm. ‘Come, let us sit and talk.’
    Karsaz kept the arm around Hazo’s shoulder and towed him into the bustling dining room, stopping twice to introduce his cousin to some of the regulars. Finally, they settled into a booth set off in a quiet corner, and Karsaz asked the waitress to bring some coffee.
    Under the bright light, Karsaz contemplated Hazo’s languid appearance. ‘Really, Hazo … you’re not looking so good. Makes me think you’re still patrolling the mountains with those American mercenaries.’
    Hazo flashed a guilty smile.
    Karsaz tsked in disapproval. ‘I worry for you, cousin. Outsiders don’t understand this place. And these foolish Americans? They think terrorism can be found on a map,’ Karsaz said, ‘even though it is but a few men drifting like ghosts around the world. Why do you bother with them?’
    ‘I try to explain things to them, help them, so that innocent lives may be spared,’ Hazo explained. ‘It was you who said, “See with your mind, but hear with your heart.”’
    Karsaz chuckled. ‘Ah, cousin! Remember: I also told you, “Do not shoot the arrow which will return against you.”’ He reached across the table and clasped the side of Hazo’s neck with his meaty right hand. ‘Perhaps your cause is a noble one,’ he appeased. ‘Though being a Christian in Iraq, I wonder if I understand anything that goes on here.’
    They had a good laugh and Karsaz pulled back his hand.
    The waitress returned and set down a saucer and mug for each of them. Hazo immediately sipped the Turkish coffee, or qahwa , savouring the spicy cardamom.
    ‘I suppose no one can ever proclaim to understand our people,’ Karsaz warned. He fingered his mug and sipped some coffee. ‘So many conflicts. So many old scores yet to be settled. War is in our blood, is it not?’
    Hazo nodded.
    ‘We’ll never cooperate,’ Karsaz lamented. ‘Maybe it’s not so bad that you don’t have a family of your own. Less grief and worry.’
    The comment stung Hazo, but he managed a tight smile before moving on to business: ‘I don’t mean to rush, but I have little time,’ he eased in. ‘The reason I am here … I was hoping you might help me.’
    Tilting his head, Karsaz replied, ‘I do have a family, so I trust you won’t put me in harm’s way. You know what they do to informants?’ he said in a low voice.
    ‘I understand.’ From his pocket, Hazo pulled out the photos. ‘Please, if you could take a look at these pictures.’ He began with the headshot of the female scientist. ‘This woman was here a few years back. Perhaps with others. Do you recognize her?’ If he was really lucky, the woman - like most tourists - would have walked through Karsaz’s doors.
    ‘Many, many people walk through these doors …’ Karsaz replied with obvious scepticism. Retrieving a pair of bifocals from his suit jacket pocket, he put them on and gave the photo a cursory glance. A surprised look came over him. ‘Ah … yes.’ He held up an index finger and tapped it at the air. ‘Yes, I remember this one. Years ago. She wore shorts and a teeshirt. Ooh, what a sight, I’ll tell you,’ he confided. ‘The legs, the …’ Midway through the vision, he cupped a hand over his chest