‘You’re going to make me cry,’ said Khalehla, smiling at the sight in front of her.
‘You, you Cairo tigress!’ cried the sultan, releasing Kendrick and taking Rashad in his arms. ‘We had a girl, you know. Half American, half Omani. Sound familiar?’
‘I know. I wasn’t permitted to contact you—’
‘We understood.’
‘But I was so touched. Her name’s Khalehla.’
‘If it weren’t for you, Khalehla One, there’d be no Khalehla Two… Come on, let’s go.’ As they started for Ahmat’s limousine the sultan turned to Evan. ‘You look pretty fit for a guy who’s been through so much.’
‘I heal rapidly for an old man,’ said Kendrick. ‘Tell me something, Ahmat. Who told you the whole story, the whole “ball of wax”?’
‘A man named Payton, Mitchell Payton, CIA. Your President Jennings phoned me and said I was to expect a call from this Payton and would I please accept it; it was urgent. Hey, that Jennings is one charming character, isn’t he?… Although I’m not sure he knew everything that Payton told me.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘I don’t know, it was just a feeling.’ The young sultan stood by the car door and looked at Evan. ‘If you can pull this off, my friend, you’ll do more for the Middle East and us on the Gulf than all the diplomats in ten United Nations.’
‘We’re going to pull it off. But only with your help.’
‘You’ve got it.’
Ben-Ami and code Blue walked down the narrow street into the Al Kabir bazaar looking for the outdoor cafe that served evening coffee. They were dressed in neat, dark business suits, as befitted their Bahrainian visas which stated that they were executives with the Bank of England in Manamah. They saw the pavement cafe, threaded their way through the crowds and the stalls, and sat at the empty table nearest the street as instructed. Three minutes later a tall man in white robes and Arab headdress joined them.
‘Have you ordered coffee?’ asked Kendrick.
‘Nobody’s come around,’ replied Ben-Ami. ‘It’s a busy night. How are you, Congressman?’
‘Let’s try Evan, or better yet, Amal. I’m here, which in a way answers your question.’
‘And Weingrass?’
‘Not very well, I’m afraid… Hello, Blue?’
‘Hello,’ said the young man, staring at Kendrick.
‘You look very businesslike, very unmilitary in those clothes. I’m not sure I’d recognize you if I didn’t know you were going to be here.’
‘I’m not military any longer. I had to leave the Brigade.’
‘It’ll miss you.’
‘I miss it, but my wounds didn’t heal properly—various tendons, they tell me. Azra was a good fighter, a good commando.’
‘Still the hatred?’
‘There’s no hatred in my voice. Anger, of course, over many things, but not hatred for the man I had to kill.’
‘What are you doing now?’
‘I work for the government.’
‘He works for us,’ interrupted Ben-Ami. ‘For the Mossad.’
‘Speaking of which, Ahmat apologizes for not having you to the palace—’
‘Is he crazy”? All he needs is members of the Mossad in his house. It wouldn’t do us much good if anyone found out, either.’
‘How much did Manny tell you?’
‘With his big mouth what didn’t he tell me? He also called after you left the States with more information that Blue was able to use.’
‘How, Blue?… Incidentally, do you have another name?’
‘With respect, sir, not for an American. In consideration for us both.’
‘All right, I accept that. What did Weingrass say that you could use, and how?’
The young man leaned over the table; all their heads were closer. ‘He gave us the figure of fifty million—’
‘A brilliant manipulation!’ broke in Ben-Ami. ‘And I don’t believe for a minute that it was Manny’s idea.’
‘What…? Well, it could have been. Actually, the bank had no choice. Washington leaned hard on it. What about the fifty million?’
‘South Yemen,’ answered Blue.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Fifty million is a very large amount,’ said the former leader of the Masada Brigade, ‘but there are larger amounts, especially in the cumulative sense. Iran, Iraq, et cetera. So we must match the people with purses. Therefore, South Yemen. It is terrorist and poor, but its distant, almost inaccessible location, sandwiched between the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea, makes it strategically important to other terrorist organizations supported by far wealthier sources. They constantly seek out land, secret training grounds to develop their forces and spread their poison. The Baaka is constantly infiltrated, and no one cares to deal with Gaddafi. He’s mad and can’t be trusted and any week may be overthrown.’
‘I should tell you,’ interrupted Ben-Ami again, ‘that Blue has emerged as one of our more knowledgeable experts on counter terrorism.’
‘I’m beginning to see that. Go on, young man.’
‘You are not so much older than me.’
Try twenty years, or close to it. Go ahead.’
‘Your idea, as I understand it, is to have air shipments of munitions from Hamendi’s suppliers all over Europe and America pass through Masqat, where supposedly corrupt officials close their eyes and let them fly on to Lebanon and the Baaka Valley. Correct?’
‘Yes, and as each cargo plane comes in the damage is done by the sultan’s guards posing as Palestinians, checking the supplies for which they’ve paid Hamendi while the crews are in quarantine. Each plane holds, say, sixty to seventy crates, which will be prised open by teams of ten men per plane and saturated with corroding acid. The process won’t take more than fifteen to twenty minutes an aircraft; the timing’s acceptable and we’re in total control. The Masqat garrison will cordon off the area and no one but our people will be allowed inside.’
‘Commendable,’ said Blue, ‘but I suggest that the process would also be too rushed and too risk-prone. Pilots object to leaving their planes in this part of the world, and the crews, by and large hoodlums with strong backs and no minds, will cause trouble when pushed around by strangers; they smell officialdom, believe me… Instead, why not persuade the most prominent leaders in the Baaka Valley to go to South Yemen with their veteran troops. Call it a new provisional movement financed by the enemies of Israel, of which there are quite a few around. Tell them there is an initial fifty million in arms and equipment for advanced training as well as for sending their assault forces up to Gaza and the Golan Heights—more to be supplied as needed. It will be irresistible to those maniacs… And instead of many air cargo shipments, one ship, loaded in Bahrain, rounding the Gulf here and proceeding south along the coast on its way to the port of Nishtun in South Yemen.’
‘Where something will happen?’ suggested Kendrick.
‘I’d say in the waters west of Ra’s al Hadd.’
‘What happens?’
‘Pirates,’ answered Blue, a slight smile creasing his lips. ‘Once in control of the ship, they would have two days at sea to accomplish what they must far more subtly and thoroughly than they would racing around an airport’s cargo area, where, indeed, Hamendi might station his own people.’
A harried waiter arrived, whining his apologies and cursing the crowds. Ben-Ami ordered cardamom coffee as Kendrick studied the young Israeli counter terrorist. ‘You say “once in control”,’ said Evan, ‘but suppose it doesn’t happen? Suppose something goes wrong… say, our hijackers can’t take the ship, or just one message is radioed back to Bahrain—only a word, “Pirates”. Then there’s no control. The undamaged weapons get through and Hamendi walks away free, more millions in his pocket. We’d be risking too much for too little.’
‘You risk far more at the airport in Masqat,’ argued Blue, his whisper emphatic. ‘You must listen to me. You came back here for only a few days a year and a half ago. You haven’t lived here in years; you don’t know what airports have become. They are zoos of corruption!… Who is bringing in what? Who has been bribed and how do I blackmail him? Why is there a change in procedure? Tell me, my Arab astiga, or my good Hebrew freund! They are zoos! Nothing escapes the eyes of the jackals looking for money, and money is paid for such information… Taking a ship at sea is the lesser risk with the greater benefit, believe me.’
‘You’re convincing.’
‘He’s right,’ said Ben-Ami as their coffee arrived. ‘Shukren,’ said the Mossad control agent, thanking and paying the waiter as the man raced to another table. ‘It must, of course, be your decision, Amal Bahrudi.’
‘Where do we find these pirates?’ asked Evan. ‘If they can be found and if they are acceptable?’
‘Being convinced of my projections,’ replied Blue, his eyes rigid on Kendrick’s face, which went in and out of the shadows created by the passing crowds, ‘I broached the possibility of such an assignment to my former comrades in the Masada. I had more volunteers than I could count. As you loathed the Mahdi, we loathe Abdel Hamendi, who supplies the bullets that kill our people. I chose six men.’