The Migrant by Paul Alkazraji

Fascist populists, callous sex-traffickers and murderous mafia gangs - these were not what Pastor Jude Kilburn had expected to face when he moved to Albania. But when vulnerable 19-year-old Alban disappears from his poverty-stricken village to seek work in Greece, Jude has to undertake the perilous journey across the mountains to try and rescue him from the ruthless Athenian underworld. Accompanied by a volatile secret-service agent and a reformed gangster, Jude soon finds himself struggling to keep everyone together as personal tensions rise and violent anti-austerity riots threaten to tear them apart and undermine the mission. Caught between cynical secret police and a brutal crime syndicate, the fate of them all will be determined by a trafficked girl - but not every one will make it home. The Migrant is a tense and evocative thriller with a powerful redemptive twist.

About the author

Paul Alkazraji worked as a freelance journalist in the UK from the mid-nineties. His articles were published in Christianity Magazine, The Christian Herald, The Church Times, The Baptist Times and other publications. His travel articles were also published in The Independent. His first book Love Changes Everything, a collection of seven testimonies, was published by Scripture Union in 2001. His second book Heart of a Hooligan, a biography of ex-football hooligan Dave Jeal, was published by Highland Books in 2000. His third book Christ and the Kalashnikov, a biography of missionaries Ian and Caralee Loring, was published by Zondervan in 2001. From 2004 to 2010 he was editor and publisher of Ujëvarë magazine in Albania. His first novel, 'The Silencer', was published by Highland Books in 2012. His new novel, ‘The Migrant’, set in Albania and Athens during the austerity troubles, was published by Instant Apostle in February 2019.

As part of the blog tour I have the pleasure of sharing an extract of the book with you!

Chapter 16. The fight on the Acropolis.

Then into the space between them the big man climbed onto the wall and began to lumber towards Jude. Jude turned back and ran. A nausea rose up from his stomach to his throat and his hands prickled with pins. He saw the amphitheatre of the Odeon of Herodes Atticus shaking below him on his left as he pounded along, and then, through the haze of smog and the water in his eyes, the vast rubble of buildings that was Athens. The line of the rocks climbed up the wall side to reach almost the top on the left of the Temple of Athena Nike and he stumbled towards it.

‘Stop there – Albanian,’ hissed a voice behind him. Jude slowed and turned around. The big man was right there. He slid off his bandana. His shaved head and neck were beaded with glistening sweat, and he grinned with triumphant satisfaction. He drew a black truncheon from his jeans pocket and flicked it out like a telescope. ‘So … Albanian. You speak English? It’s time for you to get off the Acropolis and out of my country – understand?’ He swung it at the right side of Jude’s head and it caught him full on the ear. The noise was a deafening smack, and the pain surged down through the nerve ends in his neck like electricity. The big man drew it up behind him and swung it at the left-hand side of Jude’s head. This time Jude ducked. The force of the lunge without any impact threw the man off balance and he toppled off the wall. He crashed onto a cypress bush, flattening it and rolled out face down.

‘I’m English, actually,’ Jude shouted down at him. ‘Please, after you, old boy.’ Jude felt his ear and then looked at the palm of his hand. It had small spots of blood on it. Mehmed was hobbling a little as he ran along the wall towards him.

‘Let’s get going before the other two come,’ said Mehmed. ‘Where’s the big one?’

‘In the foyer. He took the elevator shaft, but I think he’ll live,’ said Jude, pointing.