Mojave Winds -- Prologue

A Novel By Mark Biskeborn © 2005

Prologue

Four Years after September 11

Day after day, he went to work in a city where hundreds of bodies littered empty lots. Kris Klug kept a mental note of how the graffiti evolved on the walls of buildings in green or black paint—things like AVENUE OF DEATH, others scrawled in Arabic: INFIDELS GET OUT or NO OIL FOR AMERICA. In these neighborhoods, the mosques had become mini-fortresses with sandbagged rooftop fighting positions. Trash filled the streets, which were closed off by makeshift barriers of palm tree stumps, cinder blocks, and barbed wire. After more than a year in Afghanistan and more than a year of this work in the cesspool called Iraq, Kris began to wonder where it was all going.