Blogger ‘Bigwig’ beschrijft op indringende wijze hoe Saddam wellicht op dit moment piekert over de dood van zijn zonen en zich realiseert dat hij de volgende is.
Dénouement
“They fought like heroes!” he tells anyone who will listen, knowing full well they died like dogs, shrieking in agony..
..They killed carefully when they came for them, shooting so that his son’s bodies could be identified immediately, so that they could show pictures of them to the people who once shouted, “Father” as his motorcade passed on the street. Now he is father to no one and no thing, and the same people weep with joy at the thought..
..His sons are gone, and his hatred is a huge, swollen thing. But no matter how large his hatred grows his fears grow with it. He fears betrayal, and capture..
…He sits in the dark, stifling room, idly rubbing the holster of the handgun in his lap. He knows. He’s known now for hours, dying a thousand deaths in his mind since the news came.. ..Noise again from the outside, machinery on the streets below. Cries of alarm from the rooms outside, a frantic pounding on the door..
(Dénouement – SilflayHraka.com)
[Dénouement = ontknoping]