A/N: This is my second sub-story of my original Pleasantview fanfiction. I highly recommend you head there first. This fanfiction will be coinciding with my Pleasantview one, but updates won't be as frequent.
Michael Bachelor looked around at the people walking in the Bazaar of downtown Al Simhara, the hundreds of men and women scurrying like scarabs around the sun baked tiles. As the crowds cleared for the twenty well dressed men walking to a black Poltiac model from the golden age of cars. Michael guessed a man as rich as Youssef Nagi probably owned ten of these luxury cars. Taking the back seat with the head advisor in the kufi, he slammed the door and noticed it was just them in the car, them, and the driver, who was separated from the pair by a sheet of darkened bulletproof glass. MIchael was impressed. "That kind of glass can withstand a rocket propelled grenade!" He exclaimed tapping his knuckles on the glass, to which the diver turned around and looked sternly at him, pointing to a sign in Egyptian Arabic, which read: "No tapping on the glass." Michael rolled his eyes and removed his hand, setting it on his lap like a child. As the engine began to roar to life, the other man broke the silence. "Sir Michael, my name is Farid Kamel." He introduced himself taking a bottle of water from an ice cooler beside him. "It's a pleasure." He bowed his head towards him and took a bottle of the water to, drinking it graciously. The suit Vincent had loaned him for the interview seemed to be wilting in the heat like a ficus flower under a heat lamp. "So, where are we going?" Michael asked setting the half empty bottle in the holster next to him. Inside, he knew where they were going, but wanted to hear it from an official just to be sure. Farid laughed and threw his empty bottle in a wastebasket by the cooler. "To the palace of course! You're going to like working here." He remarked as the car cleared a hill, and the sparkling waters of the ocean began to show themselves in the late afternoon sun. "Really? I want to know what I'll be doing." Michael asked folding his legs casually. Farid raised an eyebrow. "You didn't read through the papers?" He asked perplexed as the vehicle started down a winding hill, turning onto a cobblestone road. "Of course I read through the papers! I just want to be clear." Michael said defensively and crossed his arms. Farid sighed and looked at Michael with sad brown eyes. "You will be accompanying the Leader on his escorts and trips across the country, and sometimes abroad. Not often though, Youssef doesn't travel much, as you can imagine." He explained as the car came towards a two sided street, the small sandstone buildings growing more and more opulent with each block, desert palm trees and small benches lined the cobblestone roads. Looking around, Michael saw that the Poltiac was not only the most luxurious car on the four lane road, but also the only one. No one seemed to be out and about, the only sound besides the engine the smashing waves against the sandy shores. "Where is everyone?" Michael asked looking out the tinted window. "No one is usually out around this time. We eat early here." Farid said plainly. Clearly he had been here many times before. "Where is 'here'?" Michael questioned as the car entered a bazaar like disk shaped area, with small shops lining the inner circular buildings with a giant, double tiered fountain sitting in the center of the market, water gushing from it and flowing down the tan stone. "The village of the elite. It's for the ambassadors and families loyal to the Leader. My family has a house here, and it's really something." He said as the car rounded the fountain. "Really? I didn't think you had family." Michael said as the sun began to set over the thin line of ocean. "Of course! Having one wife of course, and four children." Farid smiled setting his calloused hands on his knees. "What about you?" Michael frowned. "A wife, and two girls." He said choking up slightly. "Ah. I sense a desire to see them?" Farid half-smiled and Michael nodded. "Do not worry my friend, I think you'll see them soon enough." He comforted the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. Looking up at him, Michael gripped the letter in his suit pocket, the paper creased and wrinkled with sweat and heat. "Thanks. Right now all I want to do is get to bed." He stretched in his seat, shifting as the village ended sharply and a large, wrought iron gate appeared in the distance. "Well you're in luck. There it is." Farid held a hand out to the gates as they grew closer and closer, a tall tower appearing in the distance. "That's the palace?" Michael exclaimed as the full building came into view, the full four story base patterned with sandstone and red mud bricks, tall windows spanning the first two floors, with numerous balconies dotting the outside, verandas of Roman arches stretching around the outer walls. The tower itself had a whimsical aura about it, the tower slopping up sharply and curving outward into a perfect square balcony, and a top room inside, a floating stone staircase supported by flying buttresses wound up the sides of the tower itself, a red terracotta roof covering the near ninety foot high structure that matched the rest to the building. Ebony and sycamores grew around the strangely grassy lawns, white concrete walls about two feet high stretched across the gardens in freeform shapes, creating a rather friendly barrier around the palace. "It's fantastic! I've never seen anything so… extensive." Michael exclaimed at the castle, awed at the luxury compared to the people of the rural area. "I know. It was built in the late eighteenth century by the Sultan Raymundo Rodiekhkare." Kamel gave him the brief history lesson of the castle. As the car pulled up at the gate, Michael smiled. "I think I'm going to like it here…" He said as the Poltiac pulled to a stop in the front driveway