GenevaThe sun was low in the evening sky wedged between two prominent peaks of the French Alps as the twin Arabs walked across to the spacious house overlooking the side of Lake Geneva. They talked in animated whispers before disappearing into the depths of the building. “It’s a bloody mess,” growled El Hajj settling himself down. The other man his identical twin brother called Tarsa nodded and grimaced as a tall red haired woman entered the room from the alcove. “The bastard tricked us,” cursed Tarsa. He was a man of medium height, very similar in shape to El Hajj though heavy and prone to waddling rather than walking. El Hajj kept the identical nature of his twin brother secret; it was a precaution that had proved useful more than once. El Hajj was marginally the elder of the two and too
