Free Sword Of God by Chris Kuzneski Page A

in Florida, she was the child of a Muslim father and a Christian mother—neither of whom was overly religious. Each of them had their own beliefs and raised their daughter in an environment where she was allowed to believe whatever felt comfortable. Naturally curious, Shari read the holy texts of several religions and compared their major attributes. After much consideration she came to a conclusion that pleased both of her parents. Instead of choosing a faith, she chose a career. She opted to become a religious archaeologist to answer all the questions that plagued her.
    Yet her job was problematic. Women were second-class citizens in the Middle East, one of the main areas she needed to conduct her research. Whether natives or tourists, women were expected to follow the rules and customs of the land—laws that restricted their dress, travel, and ability to socialize. Things were especially strict in Saudi Arabia, where the Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice ( CPVPV ) employed religious police called
mutaween,
who patrolled the streets like Nazis, looking for even the slightest violations of Islamic law. They arrested unrelated males and females caught speaking, enforced Islamic dress codes and prayer schedules, prevented the consumption of non-Muslim food such as pork or alcohol, and seized inappropriate products such as American books, magazines, CDs, and movies. Sometimes punishment for these violations was a public flogging; at other times it was a prison sentence. Occasionally it was much worse.
    On March 11, 2002, the Saudi mutaween stopped hundreds of schoolgirls from leaving their burning school in Mecca because the girls were not wearing the
abayas
(black robes) and head scarves that were required in public by Islamic law. Some mutaween were seen beating scorched teenagers as punishment, while others locked the school gates from the outside, preventing the students from fleeing the fire. Fifteen girls were killed and several dozen were injured—many of whom were crushed against the barricades while trying to escape the flames. Making matters worse, many of the schoolgirls’ parents witnessed the carnage from across the street and were punished when they tried to intervene and save their daughters.
    Shari knew about the mutaween and their violent ways before she ventured to Saudi Arabia for her current project, but fear wasn’t going to stop her from her work. In America she was a respected academic known for her fierce determination and dedication, so there was no way in hell she was going to let anything stand in her way. Even if it meant risking her life.
    Of course, she wasn’t reckless about it.
    Shari was an attractive woman in her late thirties. Not flashy or glamorous, more like an exotic soccer mom who lived down the street. In most parts of the world, she went to work in casual clothes, staying as comfortable as possible while she slaved away in the hot sun. But in Mecca, she played it safe and followed the local dress code, hiding her tanned and lithe body under an abaya, a long robe mat scraped the ground every time she moved. A veil covered her shoulder-length black hair. She wore no makeup or jewelry. She even traveled with a chaperone.
    At least that’s how she was in public.
    In private, it was a completely different story. The instant she got inside the tunnel that had been carved underneath the old city, she started taking off her clothes, stripping down to the T-shirt and cargo shorts that she wore under her robe. It was her way of flipping off the mutaween and everything they stood for. Her way of showing independence and great legs at the same time. Her coworkers, an American crew of two scholars and three security guards, thought it was amusing. Not only because Shari was so dramatic about it, but also because all of them knew her behavior wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference if the Saudi government figured out what they were doing down there.
    If that