Who's Winning in Iraq?

At 10 a.m. on a sweltering Tuesday morning, our death sentence was delivered by telephone. Photographer Ed Kashi and I had made the 50-mile trip from Erbil, the Iraqi Kurds' regional capital, to Kirkuk early that morning. Two Northern Oil Company officials accompanied us to the crest of a low hill. An iron red sun hung over the ancient city that Kurds call "our Jerusalem," floating in a thick haze of dust and refinery fumes. Swarms of flies rose from pungent clots of slick, stagnant water. Nearly nine billion barrels of crude lay below us. Suddenly the cell phones of both officials rang simultaneously. As they listened silently to the calls, I watched their faces tighten, noticed their eyes sweep across Ed's and fix briefly on mine. Without a word, one of them jumped into his pickup truck with a pair of their four bodyguards and sped away. The second official remained only long enough to escort us to the company gate. "You've been identified as foreign journalists by a terrorist group," he said. "Their fighters are watching us right now. Death threats have been made, and we can't afford to be seen with you."