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Product Description In a white-knuckle thriller, Khidhir Hamza, who spent twenty years developing Iraq's atomic weapon, recounts his life in Saddam Hussein's inner circle and his daring flight to the West. “Don't tell me about the law. The law is anything I write on a scrap of paper.” —Saddam Hussein Taking readers into the darkest corners of a regime ruled by a volatile, brutal leader, Dr. Hamza, the only defector who has lived to write a firsthand portrait of Iraq, also presents an unprecedented portrait of Saddam—his drunken rages, his women, his cold-blooded murder of underlings, and his unrivaled power. If pushed to the wall, Saddam will use the bomb that Dr. Hamza helped create. From the relentless dangers Dr. Hamza endured in Iraq to his harrowing flight across three continents and his first encounter with skeptical CIA agents who turned him away, Saddam's Bombmaker is a true-to-life thriller as rich in danger, intrigue, and personal courage as a well-crafted spy novel. Review Barbara Crossette The New York Times Book Review Gripping and unsettling...the rare account of the life of the privileged in Saddam Hussein's Iraq. William E. Odom The Washington Post Written in an easy journalistic style...not only stranger but frequently bloodier than fiction. John Dinges author of Assassination on Embassy Row A true spy adventure that rivals The Great Escape. The story of one man's terrible secret, his conscience, and his drive to avert what would have been one of the century's epic crimes. Publishers Weekly, starred review Hamza indicts Iraq under Saddam, painting a detailed and convincing portrait of what it's like to live in a country under a violent dictator. Of the broadest interest to a wide spectrum of readers concerned about the fate of the world in the nuclear age. About the Author Khidhir Hamza was educated at MIT and Florida State University before being forced to return to Iraq. He now lives in Virginia. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter One ESCAPE The moon was fading from the purple sky over Baghdad, a sign that the time had finally come. This was the day in August 1994 that I was leaving my family, slipping out of the country over the mountains in the north, and heading for the United States, where I could tell the West about Iraq's nuclear bomb. My wife, Souham, was weeping softly in the kitchen as she cooked breakfast. For weeks she had kept up a brave front, assuring me I was doing the right thing. But now that the moment had come, I knew what she was thinking: If my plan failed, she faced a future alone, a terrifying prospect for any woman in Iraq, but especially for one who had grown up an orphan. I struggled to control my guilt about leaving her behind, even temporarily. We both knew, however, that we were out of options. Emigration was out of the question. For the last decade, no senior official had been permitted to leave. Blacklists at the borders had all of our names. Iraqi Airways had been grounded since the invasion of Kuwait in 1990. Escaping together through the underground was next to impossible as well. A family racing toward the Kurdish frontier was sure to attract the suspicions of the guards at the roadblocks along the way. As I dressed, I went through a mental checklist, wondering what I might have overlooked. I checked my pockets again for incriminating documents. Even a slip of paper could give me away. And if I were found out, I would quickly disappear into the dungeons, followed by my wife and three sons, all of us facing such inventive tortures that we would beg for our deaths. The terror of Saddam's regime knew no bounds. Two colleagues had been imprisoned for simply expressing doubts about the nuclear program. One was hung daily by his thumbs and beaten every day for ten years. The other, in a way, fared worse. He also was thrown into the dungeon and beaten, then other people were brought to his cell to be tortured in front of him