Darkness Falls Read Online Free Page B

I'm stuck babysitting. What the hell do I know about the Middle East? It's hot and sandy without the benefit of so much as a single burrito stand. So why don't you tell me where we are. You're the expert, right?"
    There was a certain odd sincerity to Beamon's groggy protest, and Erin stuck his nose to the glass as they passed over a massive structure that seemed to be made up entirely of silver pipe. Beyond, the distant outlines of oil derricks were swaying in the heat distortion. "Northern Ghawar."
    "That's an oil field, right?"
    "It's not a field, it's the field. Most people think the world's oil supply comes more or less evenly out of thousands of individual fields, but it's not true. A few giants produce most of it, and of those Ghawar is by far the largest. It's responsible for ninety percent of Saudi Arabia's oil and almost seven percent of the world's."
    When the skids touched down, Erin unfastened his harness and, before jumping out, waited for the tornado of sand the blades had kicked up to subside. They'd landed about two hundred meters from a small, lonely derrick that would have seemed almost laughably unimportant if it weren't for the gleaming trailers surrounding it and the soldiers moving toward them.
    Although they were all running and had guns in their hands, Beamon strode forward confidently, holding his ID above his head. Erin hung back.
    The royal family was in complete control the last time he'd visited Saudi Arabia, and he had been a highly valued employee of Saudi Aramco. It had been all smiles and bags of cash back then. Now, though, the atmosphere had changed.
    "Hello! I'm Mark Beamon from U. S. Homeland Security. I think we're expected.
    One of the ten or so approaching guards aimed his rifle in their direction, prompting his companions to do the same. Someone started shouting in Arabic -- too fast and complicated for Erin to follow, though the tone and the wall of gun barrels they were facing made things pretty clear.
    To his credit, Beamon didn't seem bothered by the deteriorating situation, and he continued to make himself the center of attention; meanwhile, Erin slowly backed toward the helicopter. The whine of the motor gained pitch and he turned to run toward it, but he saw that the skids were already off the ground. He turned back to find that Beamon was now facedown on the ground, a rifle barrel pressed to the back of his head.
    There were too many soldiers to search one person, though, and the ones who felt left out inevitably turned their attention Erin's way. A moment later, he was lying next to Beamon and being groped by men who smelled as though they hadn't showered in a month.
    "Look, we're here to --" Erin started through the sand in his mouth, but then fell silent when he felt the jab of a gun barrel against his spine.
    By the time they were through with him, Beamon had been rolled onto his back and was lying there squinting into the empty sky, his sunglasses already pocketed by one of the men patting him down.
    "We had to twist a few arms to convince the Saudis to let us come here -- they're kind of a secretive bunch and with all their political problems, I guess they're a little edgy."
    "A little edgy?" Erin said as the guards retreated a few feet, guns still poised. He pushed himself to his feet and dusted off the sand as Beamon did the same. "As far as the royals are concerned, the U. S. isn't doing shit to help them keep their grip on the country, and letting a couple of Americans get killed would probably be a good illustration of their irritation."
    "I've never been here," Beamon said, ignoring him. "Kind of stark, isn't it?" He actually used a finger to push aside one of the rifle barrels aimed at him and then strode off toward a white trailer, obviously attracted by the air conditioner humming on top of it. Erin slipped in behind him, careful not to make eye contact with the guards as he squeezed past.
    The door to the trailer opened and a man waving energetically in their