It begins with us.

Chapter Three

Yaakov's POV

We were fucking lost, literally.

This new driver Daniel must have grabbed off the fucking street and taken a wrong turn at the Jordan border, now driving through the fucking desert as we make our way back from where we came. I missed that we were going the wrong way due to my phone and its constant ringing. I was already in a shitting fucking mood with Omar fucking Yats, the slimy fat fuck trying to snake out of our deal that it took all the strength I had not to put a bullet in between his beady little eyes. How hard was it to obtain the shipping contracts at Aqaba?
Obtaining the port out of Aqaba in Jordan would make shipping our product a lot easier, having easy access to Jeddah in Saudi Arabia, and down to Asmara in Eritrea. I could have used our port in Eilat but the wharves weren't compatible with our needs, they were smaller in size and couldn't house our many containers, nor keep up with our customer's demands.
As of right now, we were using cargo trains and trucks to cart our product across the east, and it was proving to be costly and a massive waste of time. It was the reason that our business was in the black, and I needed to fix it before another shekel was wasted. I couldn't understand why my father never wanted to sail the shipment to our customers, striking a deal with Yats instead of letting our money bleed out.
But my father was old school, inheriting the business from my late grandfather at an early age. He was quite reluctant to change our dealings as the years passed, constantly sticking to his father's ways of doing business and not venturing outside of his bubble. Education wasn't what it use to be, and every couple of years there was always something new developed, or an easier way of looking after certain businesses. The present was moving forward whether he liked it or not, and we had to start listening to the future or we would forever remain in the past. My father never had the education that was granted to me or my siblings, grandfather kept him in Israel instead of abling his son to learn and grow. Thoughts of my father sent a fresh wave of grief and sadness through my heart and soul, losing the only person I considered to be a true friend. The feeling of losing a parent is never easy. And after years of health issues and constant visits to the hospital, he passed away from a heart attack eight months ago.
I'll never forget the screams of my mother when she found him, laying on the floor in the middle of their bedroom.
I breathed out a heavy sigh as I watched the sand dun off into the distance, the sun's light reflecting off them in such a way had you squinting your eyes.

I loved and hated the desert.

The heat I was used to, but the sand? A fucking nightmare.

But the colours when the sun hit at just the right time were magical, oranges, reds, yellows and blues filled the horizon as the sun rose and then set daily. The combat vehicle we were in helped ease our way through the sand, gliding across the desert as we made our way back through to Jordan.

"So that could have gone a bit better"

I cut my eyes to Danial as he leans back into his seat, his grip held onto the handrail above his head while his eyes dance with amusement in my direction.

Fucker.

"He isn't the only one who uses those ports, we will just have to find another who is willing to help"

I said before pulling out my phone, seeing that there is little to no reception out here.

Fucking great!

"Is our location on?"

Danial nods once before I put the device back into my suit pocket and reaching for the satellite phone beside us. The last thing I needed was to drive straight into an ambush.

"Call Mohammed, I want the list of other vendors sent to me as soon as we are back in Jordan."

I voice out my orders while handing the satellite phone to my younger brother, my grip tightens on the handrail as the vehicle rolls with the sand.