Dust, car exhaust, the faint fishy smell of the Tigris River, and a certain indescribable city atmosphere blended from ruins and reconstruction.
It was already past nine when they arrived. Next to the helipad, Yusuf was waiting there with a small team.
The astute politician was dressed today in an impeccably ironed robe, standing amidst a group of fully armed private security, appearing both incongruous and harmonious.
The security personnel wore matching black tactical uniforms, sunglasses on, vigilantly scanning the surroundings.
Outside the helipad, two US Army soldiers leaned against a Hummer, watching the scene with indifference.
"My dear cousin!"
Yusuf opened his arms and greeted Samir with the enthusiastic embrace typical of the Illigos, kissing him once on each cheek, his stubble rough on the skin.
"Baghdad welcomes the triumphant hero!"
