Haboob, from the Arabic word habb, meaning wind. A violent, harsh, and dry wind bringing sand and dust from the desert during summer. These violent storms are all too common. Some, born in the Middle East, have even been known to reach our shores.
One’s terrorist is another’s freedom fighter. It’s all a question of perspective. What drives men to commit such acts of violence? Prejudice? Persecution? Love for one or for one’s country? “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Not exactly. It’s complicated.
Winds never travel a straight line, this one certainly doesn’t. Crossing oceans and borders with ease, no one knows of its existence. Maurice Marceau has his suspicions. But will anyone listen? Concerned the storm might hit New York, with her contacts at the NSA, Madeleine can help. Working together, father and daughter try to change its course.
As the dust settles, the winds of war have passed. But has the fog lifted only to reveal destruction? Were the Marceaus able to avert a disaster of such magnitude the city had not seen since 9/11?
