Free A Cold Day In Mosul by Isaac Hooke

thousand, not three hundred thousand. And if you do well, we might even double it. Do spectacularly, and we'll triple it. Now agree, damn it, so my sniper and I can lower our rifles. Agree."
    Othunan clenched his jaw, probably trying to pretend he was angry, but Ethan wasn't buying it. He could see those beady little eyes calculating all the things that could be purchased for three thousand dollars a month.
    "Six thousand," Othunan said.
    "Three," Ethan returned instantly.
    The resistance leader glanced up at William again and licked his lips nervously. "Four thousand—"
    "Three," Ethan interrupted. "Take it or leave it."
    Othunan must have realized he wasn't going to get a better offer than that, because he said, "I agree to your terms."
    "Good," Ethan told the resistance leader. "But one thing." He stepped right up to the man from the side, staying out of William's shot. "How do we know we can trust you? What's the Islamic State to you? Why do you fight them?"
    Ethan wasn't sure what he wanted to hear. He'd already concluded that the man did it solely for the potential money and prestige, rather than out of any sense of obligation to his people, so it took him by surprise when Othunan lifted the cap he wore low on his brow, revealing an ugly cross-shaped scar branded into his forehead. His ears had been cut off, too.
    It was a punishment the Saddamists had instituted upon draft dodgers and deserters after the First Gulf War.
    "The Islamic State, and those they are descended from, will always be my enemies," Othunan said. He replaced the cap angrily.
    "Perhaps I misjudged you," Ethan said quietly. He stepped back, and pointed the barrel of his A4 at the floor. "Lower the rifle, William."
    The laser dot left Othunan's chest. The man maintained his defiant posture as he told his fighters: "Stand down."
    Ethan discovered Doug pacing back and forth outside.
    "This is one of those times when I wish I hadn't given up dipping tobacco," Doug complained. He proceeded to describe all the things he planned to do to Othunan, none of them very nice.
    Ethan raised a hand, interrupting him. "You might want to go back inside. I think you'll find him more amenable."
    "What did you do?"
    Ethan shrugged. "Nothing. Your little walkout had the desired effect."
    "Well, there you go," Doug said proudly. "That's a free negotiation lesson for you from the master. Never be afraid to walk away."
    Ethan smiled widely. "A useful lesson indeed."

eight
     
    A fter sealing the deal, the three of them left the abandoned refinery behind. After only a minute of driving that deserted street, an Islamic State technical approached in the oncoming lane. It swerved in front of them and cut the Land Cruiser off.
    "Open up the map," Ethan said urgently. He unclipped his phone from the dash and hid it in a pocket. He didn't want the militants to know he had a working GPS.
    From the storage compartment in the center console, Doug grabbed the street map of Mosul they'd brought along, and opened it.
    A young, bearded militant emerged from the passenger side of the pickup and, carrying his AK menacingly, approached the Land Cruiser.
    "What are you doing in this area?" the militant asked Ethan sternly. He was a local, judging from the accent.
    "We're lost?" Ethan said, keenly aware of the rifles hidden underneath the cloth blankets on the floor behind him.
    The militant looked inside the vehicle and regarded the other passengers, who were doing their best to appear meek and docile. When the militant noticed the map in Doug's lap, he pursed his lips. "Your IDs."
    The militant raised an eyebrow when Ethan produced the passports.
    "You are not from Mosul?" the young man said.
    "No, we're visiting relatives."
    "If you are going to stay longer than three days, you must report to one of the Dawla "—State—"administration offices. They will get you a proper ID."
    "No one told us this," Ethan said.
    "Well I'm telling you." The militant quickly perused the photo pages, then