Things are always unstable in the Middle East. This was a lesson that Faisal al-Saud knew and lived for, because without a little instability, life would be too boring for the third son of the second wife of the Abdullah crown prince of Saudi Arabia. The year was 1985, and war raged over the kingdom to the north. On one side lay the Republic of Iraq ran by the Butcher of Bagdad a militarist if there ever was one. Further to the east lay the Islamic Republic of Iran, a country rife with turmoil since the Shah of Iran was ousted and replaced by the moralist Khomeini. The war between the two countries had been raging on for several years now, and Faisal’s uncle King Fahd grew worried that maybe his two northern neighbors argument might expanded into the kingdom, especially after the reports that Saddam Hussain was using nerve gas in his war against Iran. For King Fahd, there could be no man better to get information than Faisal ibn Abdullah Al Saud.

About six years ago, Faisal along with his father had made a state visit to the United States. It was also at the time that Faisal started his training with the Central Intelligence Agency. Faisal proved to be a natural spy. Upon his return to the kingdom, he was immediately put work divining the intentions of Saddam Hussain.

The night was silent, as was Faisal, as he swam closer to the chemical factory that lay alongside the River Tigris. His head popped briefly out of the water as he scanned the surrounding area. On one side lay his target, the chemical factory and to the other the huge freighter flying the flag of Singapore. Like a shadow, Faisal left the water and was quickly up against the outside wall of the factory. With a small mirror, Faisal was able to peer around the corner of the building. He could barely make out two heavily armed Republican Guards patrolling.

Odd he thought to have such elite Iraq troops guarding this factory. Pocketing the mirror Faisal scanned the walls for possible handholds. While with the CIA, Faisal had trained under a little Gurkha who knew more about climbing that anyone Faisal had ever known. To most the wall was just a wall, but for Faisal it looked like an inviting highway. In no time at all the Arab topped the wall, and none too soon because the guards had just turned the corner. They were being sloppy though, one of them was even smoking a cigarette.

The roof of the building was dominated with television antennas and someone’s laundry. It was hard going in the moonless night across the minefield that was the roof. However, soon the target was in sight, the roof access hatch. The lock on the hatch looked simple enough, but after a brief inspection, Faisal could see that it was attached to a fairly sophisticated alarm system. Nothing that Faisal couldn’t handle. No spy of his caliber would back down from this type of challenge. Five minutes later, Faisal was in and no one the wiser.

Moving using the map of the factory that Faisal had committed to memory he crept further inside. He was moving along a catwalk when he heard the voices below. An Iraqi along with two Republican Guards at his side casually walked into the light below. Faisal recognized Ali Hassan al-Majid, known to the Arab world as Chemical Ali. The man was smoking a cigar the size of a baby’s arm. Ali paused and turned as another man came into the light. This man was obliviously wasn’t an Arab, probably a European from the way he walked.

Blowing out a smoke ring, Ali said something in English. “So, doctor, the people of the Republic of Iraq thank you for providing with this so excellent VX gas. We shall surely use it on those hapless Persians. Victory is to be certain, and it is all thanks to you.”

“No need to praise me so high,” said the mystery man, yes definitely an European, a German from his accent, “the gold your president is paying is reward enough.”

“Ah yes,” said Ali as he drew on his cigar making the tip look like a third glowing eye, “a handsome price indeed.”

The German frowned at this. Could the Iraqi be insinuating that they might have paid too much for this VX gas? Ali seemed to not notice the change in the German, or chose to ignore it for he just kept on smoking.

“Yet,” Ali drawled on, “you say that you have something for us that is even better than the VX gas. Hm. I am sure that my cousin Saddam might be interested; I am one of his closest advisers after all.”

“Yes,” said the German, “I call this formula the Möbius Syrum. I reformulated a serum designed by the one of the greatest scientific geniuses of Nazi Germany. My Möbius Syrum will grant whomever I inject it with with a healing factor far superior to any mere human. Just think of the possibilities, a soldier could fight much longer in the battlefield; outlasting any opponent.”

“Indeed,” said Ali, “that would be most useful. How would your formula work against chemical and biological attacks? My dear cousin has expressed an interest that his Republican Guard acquire this ability as well.”

“Excellent,” exclaimed the German, “I can see that I came to the right people for this. Obviously President Hussein read the literature I sent about the Möbius Syrum.”

“Yes, yes,” said Ali trying to calm his excited guest, “but, President Hussein isn't completely convinced that your drug will do as advertised. A test must be in order. Are you prepared doctor?”

The German crossed his armed and frowned. It didn't look like he liked Ali's implication that his miracle drug wasn't so miraculous.

“I am German after all Herr al-Majid. We are nothing, if not prepared.”

“That is what I like to hear,” said Ali as he clapped the German on the back, a huge smile behind his cigar.

“Right this way. I have a subject waiting patiently for your test.”

They couldn't get away, Faisal needed to hear more. This was starting to become a little more important than whether the Iraqis were going to bring war to the kingdom. This sounded like Saddam was trying to create an army of invincible soldiers. The Arab world couldn't survive this.”

Faisal had barely took a dozen steps from his spot, before the shoddy Iraqi building codes brought him low. It started out as a low moan, but quickly turned into a metallic shriek as the catwalk gave way, plunging Faisal three stories down to the concrete floor. Faisal barely heard Ali as the Iraqi stood over his brutalized body.

“So, I guess we have someone else who is in even more of a rush to meet Allah. Bring him.”

Consciousness came back slowly for Faisal. For some reason he couldn't see out of his right eye, but that seemed to be of little importance. Pain racked his entire body from head to toe; he must have broken every bone in his body from that fall. When his head swam a little less, Faisal could see that he was stretched out on a table. Chains attached to his arms and his legs had him spread out.

The smell of a cigar had Faisal turning to look at Ali.

“So our little bird is awake. I'm joyous. I'd hate for you to miss this. No, no, don't try to speak. That would ruin the drama. Doctor if you'd please.”

Faisal tried to look towards the German, but couldn't see him with his ruined eye.

“This will only hurt a little bit,” the German said softly.

There was a stabbing sensation at the base of Faisal's neck as the needle was injected into him, then the burning sensation started. Like a wildfire the Möbius Syrum raced through Faisal's blood. The pain was intense.

“You can cry if you like,” whispered Ali right next to his ear and then proceeded to blow smoke in Faisal's face.

The Iraqi then straightened up.

“Enough of this. Doctor you said that your formula would protect a soldier against the effects of the VX gas. Well now that we have our lab rat, I want to try it out. Everyone out. You there, bring in that vial of VX gas. We shall see. So doctor, if he lives, I'm sure a bonus is in the offing, and if he doesn't, well you better be right with Allah.”

Just before a metal door was slammed shut, Faisal could hear the sound of glass shattering as the vial of VX gas hit the floor. Instantly Faisal's lungs started to burn, but just as quickly the pain stopped. In fact a lot of his pains were going away, and strength was quickly returning. However, Faisal was no fool. He pretended to be dead. It was almost an hour later before Ali, the Doctor, and Ali's goons came back into the room.

“Doctor, doctor,” tsk'd the Iraqi, “it was a really nice try. You almost had me fooled. You take out the good doctor, and shot him. My cousin doesn't like to be duped by a conman. As for this offal, dump it into the river.”

“But, but,” stammered the German, “It works I tell you. It works!!!”

However, Ali didn't seem to hear him as his Republican Guardsmen dragged the screaming German away. He was more interested in the smoking of his cigar. As for Faisal, a burly soldier hoisted him over his shoulder and unceremoniously dumped him into the River Tigris. After that it was a simple matter for Faisal to make his way back to Saudi Arabia.

For his efforts in discovering, and ultimately preventing Saddam from creating an army of super-soldiers, King Fahd promoted Faisal to colonel. It was Faisal who convinced his uncle to let him form the Directorate, because Faisal knew in his heart of hearts that mad men like Hussein and Khomeini that the kingdom would never be safe it weren't for protection that only those with a touch from Allah could provide, and Colonel Saud would be there to keep an eye on things for the good of the country.

There is no lengths that Faisal wouldn't do for his country. His loyalty first and foremost is to Saudi Arabia and really to the king who sits on the throne. Faisal sees himself as a caretaker of the kingdom, and any threat to the kingdom is a threat that Faisal will deal with in any fashion that resolves the threat. Faisal does not see himself as a hero, and while some of his acts may be misconstrued as heroism, he would never see himself in that way. Naturally those without Faisal's agenda have accused him and his Directorate of using excessive force, and even torture to get confessions out of prisoners. To this Faisal remains closed mouth.

One of the things that the outside media don't like about Faisal is that he is such a grim figure. Faisal takes the business of being in charge of the Directorate very seriously. For Faisal, there is nothing funny about keeping the kingdom from threats internal and external. Faisal has little time for humor. He thanks Allah everyday that the media in Saudi Arabia is state controlled.

Faisal does have a warm spot in his heart for the common people of Saudi Arabia. It is for them that he has sacrificed so much of his time and energy to safeguard. Faisal seems himself as another of the guardian forces in the kingdom keeping the public safe.

"I am no hero. What I do, I do for the kingdom. Imshallah!"

Faisal is a well trained intelligence agent, trained by the Central Intelligence Agency. His a master at surveillance, infiltration, and stealth. Faisal sees himself as one of the guardians of the kingdom, something he can take pride in. His training also includes an extensive understanding of hand-to-hand combat.

Faisal has no real uberhuman powers. However, the Möbius Syrum has augmented his physique to such a degree that he's now as fast, as strong, and has the endurance of a top Olympic athlete. Another effect of the Möbius Syrum is that he's completely immune to almost any poison, drug, chemical, or disease in the known world. This includes nerve agents like VX gas. Faisal, however, is unaware that the formula also has extended his life to a unknown level. Lastly the Möbius Syrum has provided Faisal with a healing factor. His healing factor allows Faisal to heal faster than a normal person could. Faisal can be killed, but it would take a lot of damage to do him in.

As a member of the Directorate, Faisal wears a suit of green body armor that protects him from most attacks. Unlike other members of the Directorate, Faisal wields a weapon that he had designed uniquely for himself. He calls the gun his Serpentine Pistol. The gun is filled with thousands upon thousands of needles. By flipping a switch on the side of the pistol allows Faisal to fire explosive type needles, to a more traditional paralyzing needle into a foe.

Faisal is a powerful built Arab with a strong jaw. He keeps his jet black hair fairly short, and his one vanity seems to be an equally short goatee. A long scar runs from his scalp down to his lower jaw. Faisal got the scar when he fell to the floor in Baghdad, and lost the use of his eye. Oddly enough the Möbius Syrum never regenerated the damage to Faisal's eye. Over his missing eye, Faisal wears an eye patch that matches his body armor. As Colonel Saud, Faisal wears a suit of light green body armor that covers his entire body, except for his head. In addition to his body armor, Faisal wears a white harness over his chest. Also his belt is white. His Serpentine Pistol looks like any other pistol, except for a white coiled cobra in mother of pearl on the grips on both sides of the pistol.