The Hades Conspiracy

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Hamid Aram slipped through the shadows at the base of the building, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He glanced nervously behind him. Save for a stray dog sniffing through trash, Nasir Street was deserted. American forces had already sliced through Baghdad’s perimeter defenses, sending most of the city’s residents scrambling inside.

Easing forward, he peered around the corner. A stiff wind blew a cloud of sand across the square. Once it passed, the National Museum of Iraq appeared in its wake. The building was majestic, with twin stone towers flanking an arched entryway. Nothing had changed since he was last there several years before.

A burst of gunfire erupted a few blocks away. The fighting drew closer. In an hour or so, the Americans would swarm the area. Bullets and mortars would arrive with them. If he didn’t finish before they got here, all would be lost.

He rose and sprinted across the plaza. The twin towers grew larger as he approached. He darted into the shadow of the arched entryway and stopped. He glanced back toward Nasir Street, but there was no movement save the swaying of a few palms. Someone yelled a block away — a parent scolding a child to come inside.

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