by Laura Acton
Mike leaned back in the chair. “Seems a bit of hypocritical … especially since they have no problem lying about Farid’s and Fakhir’s deaths.”
Turning his eyes to Mike, he studied him a moment before he made his point. “And just what did you do in Makhachkala? Didn’t you lie for the greater good? You told Gaspar you were Urvan and we had disconnected. Tell me, son, how is what you did so different from Umar’s and Ifran’s actions?
“They cannot afford to give any ammunition to the extremists. If Fakhir’s lifestyle becomes public knowledge, civil unrest would ensue as the terrorists would seek any means by which to capitalize on the information and drive Umar out of power. The country has flourished under his rule. Oshar is one of the most westernized and forward-thinking countries in the Middle East. Would you have him risk all the innocent lives of his countrymen?”
The three soldiers contemplated Charles’ words. Blaze broke the silence, “Can you broker a private meeting directly with Umar and Ifran so we can discuss Savelievich’s whereabouts?”
“Yes. I can arrange a meeting.”
“Sir, we are prepared to take off when you are,” the pilot said as he and his co-pilot reentered the aircraft.
“We are ready, Mario.”
All four buckled their seatbelt in the plush leather chairs. Once in the air, with the cockpit door shut, the four men discussed a new plan.
Al Sattar Palace – Ifran’s Office – 1050 Hours
After introductions, Gaspar Kirillovich took a seat facing the Crown Prince of Oshar. “I sincerely appreciate you agreeing to meet with me on short notice, Your Royal Highness.”
Ifran nodded. “I do not wish to be discourteous, but I may spare only a few minutes as another appointment is scheduled at eleven. My assistant indicated you are seeking information on someone named Savelievich.”
Gaspar pulled out his file. “Yes, I will be quick. We established Savelievich left Makhachkala with the Oshar diplomatic delegation on May twenty-ninth. He traveled with your brother, Sheik Fakhir bin Umar Al Sattar. Please allow me to express my condolences for your family’s loss.”
“Thank you. Quite unexpected.”
“Savelievich is a human trafficker who recently came on Interpol’s radar. He fled the country after a rival gang shot up his club, killing dozens, before burning down the place in an attempt to cover their tracks.”
“Yes, I read about the tragedy in Makhachkala.”
“I do not wish to waste your time, sir, so I will come straight to the point. We need your help in tracking down Savelievich. I confirmed security validated his passport upon arrival but find nothing indicating where he is staying. No hotel reservations, no record of exiting … almost like he never existed. Any assistance you can offer in establishing his location would be appreciated.”
Ifran maintained his placid façade. “Colonel Kirillovich, I am truly sorry, but we possess no information on his whereabouts. He did enter with our delegation but parted from them at the terminal. Fakhir died shortly after arriving home … before any of our family had a chance to speak with him or welcome him home. Therefore, sadly, we unaware of any conversations between my brother and Savelievich which may be of service to you.”
Gaspar requested, “If you would allow me to question those who traveled with them, perhaps someone overheard something which might provide a clue as to Savelievich’s destination.”
Ifran shook his head. “Unless they conversed in Arabic that is unlikely. Fakhir’s guards only speak our language.” He artificially brightened his face. “Ah, just a moment.” He turned and spoke Arabic, “Did Savelievich speak Arabic in your presence?”
With a basic knowledge of the language, Gaspar recognized the query made to the guard. He waited for the response.
Comprehending he was not supposed to understand, Jaasir answered using Arabic, “No, Your Royal Highness.”
Ifran translated, “He says no. I am distressed we cannot be of help to you. This Savelievich sounds like a despicable character.”
“He is. We discovered he sold children into sexual slavery.”
Ifran stood. “Colonel Kirillovich, I believe I answered all your questions to the best of my ability. If we discover anything which will assist, we will contact your office. I’m sorry, but I must attend to other business now.”
Gaspar put his file away, rose, and graciously bowed. “Again, thank you for your time.”
Ifran led the colonel out, followed by Jaasir and Saleet who had joined his cadre of guards as a reward for their quick thinking and loyalty. As they passed Umar’s private reception area, he grinned as he glimpsed Baron Wildingham right before the portal closed. He looked forward to meeting Charles’ son.
Al Sattar Palace – Reception Room – 1100 Hours
Emir Umar bin Farid Al Sattar, a man with weary eyes and a thick, salt and pepper mustache, produced the first real smile since Fakhir’s body was brought home. “Charles, how wonderful you are here, old friend.” He waited for Charles to approach and leaned to the right as Charles did too. Each double-kissed the other’s right cheek then the left one observing custom.
“I am glad to be here, though I offer my sincere condolences on the loss of your youngest son.” Charles grasped Umar’s hand with both of his.
Umar placed a hand on his heart. “A shocking loss. Thank you.”
His eyes scanning the room, Charles asked, “Will Ifran be joining us?”
“Yes, soon. Ifran is wrapping up some business and will join us after his visitor leaves. Please introduce me to your companions. You indicated your boy is with you this time.”
The sound of a door opening drew Umar’s attention, and he smiled again. “Ah, here comes Ifran now. Perfect timing.”
Ifran strode in as Jaasir and Saleet escorted Colonel Kirillovich to the exit. “I finished rather quickly, father. Welcome, Charles.” The customary greeting repeated. “You decided to bring your son this time. Does this mean there will be a passing of the baton to a fourth generation soon?”
Charles beamed with pride and made one huge mistake. He waved to Mike as he said, “No, not anytime soon, but perhaps eventually. May I present my son, Lieutenant Michael Galloway.”
Mike managed not to show his displeasure. They discussed not using their military titles. As he stepped forward, the situation turned from potentially dangerous to dangerous.
Saleet and Jaasir entered the room in time to overhear the introduction. Jaasir’s fast stride brought him to the emir’s side rapidly, his hand went to his gun but kept it holstered, as he recognized the men accompanying Baron Wildingham and his son. He would never forget the two men.
Cognizant of a change in body language and the atmosphere around them, Dan and Blaze moved instantly to cover Charles. They both laid eyes on the Arab who saved Dan’s life as he took up a protective stance near Oshar’s emir and crown prince.
Saleet pulled his FN Five-SeveN semi-automatic pistol and aimed at the blond-haired man. Though the golden locks were cut short and he appeared less like Maks, Saleet would always remember those striking sapphire eyes. Solely based on Umar’s edict, Saleet refrained from killing him now.
Shit, they recognize Blondie. Blaze pushed Blondie behind him as the armor piercing pistol came up. His body tensed as his worst fear came true, but he stopped his hand from reaching for the Sig Sauer in his shoulder holster.
“What is the meaning of this, Saleet?” Ifran demanded. Their guards would never draw a weapon in the presence of the emir unless they believed his life was in jeopardy.
Speaking Arabic, Saleet said, “This is the blond who killed Fakhir.”
Umar’s and Ifran’s eyes landed on the man now shielded by the raven-haired man, and many emotions played in each mind.
Behind Blaze, and in front of the baron, Dan could no longer view the man aiming a gun at him. His gaze locked on the one who saved him, noting the guard’s hand rested on a holstered weapon. Dan attempted to keep himself loose and ready to react if necessary
to safeguard Mike’s father.
Stepping out from behind the protective human wall Broderick and Blain created, giving his full attention to Umar, Charles said, “My friend, we have a tangled web to unweave. I am relying on our long friendship to help come up with an appropriate solution. Cool heads and rational minds must prevail today as they did nearly twenty years ago, or many innocents will be harmed.”
Comprehending Charles referred to the night of his grandfather’s murder, Ifran turned to the door and instructed the guard in Arabic, “Seal the room. No one allowed in, not even my brothers. Saleet, holster your weapon.”
Also cognizant of the reference, Umar motioned to a table which had been set with refreshments in anticipation of Charles’ visit. “Please be seated.”
Charles clasped Dan’s hand conveying his kinship, solidarity, and deep affection for Dan. Both Umar and Ifran took note of the cultural gesture. Hand-in-hand, Charles led Dan to a chair then sat between Dan and Mike. Blaze took place next to Blondie at the circular table, recognizing the kid was the one in need of protection, not Charles. Umar moved to his usual seat with Ifran across from him. Jaasir outflanked Saleet and stood behind and slightly to the left of the blond. Saleet located himself near the emir.
Umar took control. “Introductions must be made. We are aware of all but the other two. Who are you?”
Before Blaze could answer Charles said, “Are their names necessary?”
“Yes. My guard would not have drawn a weapon in my presence unless he had a reason.” Umar turned to Saleet’s target, who appeared vaguely familiar beyond Saleet’s insistence he was Fakhir’s killer. “Your name, please.”
With respect, Dan said, “Daniel Broderick, Your Majesty.”
A contemplative expression crossed Umar’s face. Could Saleet be wrong? Might this be a case of mistaken identity? The eyes are the same uncommon and striking shade of blue. Could a Broderick be involved in the death of my son? He required clarification. “Broderick. Not a common name. Any relation to Colonel Ryan Broderick?”
Though surprised, Dan successfully concealed his reaction. “Yes, sir. He is my uncle.”
“Ah, so whose son are you? Mark’s, Erik’s, or William’s?”
Uncomfortable with how this man came by information on his family he posed a question. “Your Highness, how do you know my family?”
Ifran recognized a fellow master of concealment. Just like him, Broderick gave nothing away in his expression, though his father’s question must’ve shocked Daniel as much as it did him. In retrospect, once his father pointed out the connection, he noted the color of his eyes.
He decided to supply the answer to gauge Broderick’s the response. “We met Colonel Broderick at an aerospace security conference five years ago when my brother and the colonel made presentations. We shared a dining table that evening. Fawzi and Ryan, both possess a passion for flying and struck up a friendship.”
Dan allowed the information to sink in. He could not confirm or reject the statement since communication with his uncle was sporadic at best. For an unknown reason, his mail always took forever to arrive, sometimes months after his cousins penned the missive. He maintained a stoic mask as he answered the personal question. “My father is William.”
Umar nodded. “The general, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
Blaze wanted to take the heat off Blondie, so offered up his name, hoping it would move the conversation forward. “I am Donald Blain, Your Majesty.”
“Please excuse my lapse in manners. Would you care for coffee and refreshment?” Umar said.
“Yes, please,” Charles responded.
Ifran motioned to Saleet to pour and serve.
Fear of being poisoned kept Dan’s eyes glued to the man’s hands. Though trained in Arabic etiquette, the pleasantry still held a sinister note for him. Ashamed to admit his fallacy, he had a basis for associating barbarism with men dressed in the ankle-length garments, months of torture by men wearing them. Dan reminded himself a few evil men did not represent the vast majority.
Charles lifted his cup and sipped. “Excellent as usual. I must take home more of the Amman coffee.”
“Allow me to gift you several bags before you leave,” Umar said as he sipped. He noted Broderick had yet to taste the drink. “Do you not care for coffee? If not, we have other beverages. Tea perhaps?”
Mike spoke up, “He is on a restricted diet per doctor’s orders.”
“Why?” Ifran sipped his coffee.
Dan addressed the elephant in the room and spoke honestly, as Charles advocated. “Panin Savelievich poisoned me while I was at the Cherry Club to retrieve two innocent girls before Panin could sell them.” He turned a steady gaze on the emir. “Your Majesty, I did not want to kill your son, but he gave me no choice. All we wanted was to take the girls home. He and his guards were unarmed, so I advised them no one would be hurt if they stayed put. When a guard failed to heed my warning and lunged at me, I killed him.
“We left Fakhir and the rest in the room and were almost out when my buddy screamed. I turned to assist and found him on the floor with both hands clasped around his bleeding leg. Fakhir appeared out of the haze behind us and aimed a gun at my unarmed friend, stating he would kill him. I had no other option. If Fakhir had remained in the room, he would be alive.
“If Savelievich had not attempted to swindle us …” Dan trailed off. “Well, technically, he didn’t cheat us since I wasn’t a real buyer.” Realizing he started to ramble, Dan took a deep breath and focused his comments. “The bottom line is my motive for being in that place was to rescue two little girls and Fakhir’s ill-considered actions put him in my crosshairs.”
Mike interjected, “Panin is responsible for destroying innocence for many years. We seek your help in locating him to ensure justice is served.”
Ifran arched one brow. “What proof do you possess to support your allegations of Savelievich’s actions?”
Glancing at his father and getting a slight nod, Mike addressed Ifran, hoping being truthful would spare Dan’s life and garner the Al Sattars assistance in capturing Savelievich. “Fifteen years ago, when I was twenty-one and drunk, I made a poor choice and ended up at his club with people I had only met that night. I thought it was just another bar until I opened the wrong door and witnessed a man engaged in depraved acts with a child. When another man refused to do the same, Savelievich murdered him.
“The scene so disgusted me I started retching. Panin became aware of my presence and the sight I witnessed. The conniving, greedy rat bastard decided to kill two birds with one stone. Instead of executing me, he chose to profit from my ill-timed appearance. He sedated and sold me into a debasing life. The couple who bought me kept me so drugged I couldn’t escape. William Broderick, Daniel’s father, rescued me and helped restore my dignity.
“Personally, I want vengeance and to strangle Savelievich with my bare hands for what he did to me and many others. Though, I will be satisfied if I can deliver him to Gaspar Kirillovich of Interpol. I trust him to ensure Panin is tried, convicted, and sentenced according to the law for his crimes.”
Mike blew out a ragged breath as a weight lifted from his shoulders. Stating that all out loud after so many years of holding it inside turned out to be cathartic, but he noted Dan’s shock. “Yes, your father saved my life in many ways. That is why I have protected his so ardently for all these years.”
Dan reeled. He never imagined the general would be the one who rescued Mike. Though in a way it made sense. Mike had been his father’s security man for ten years. No one stayed in the same position that long without significant motivation. Saving a man from slavery would be a compelling reason.
Ifran stared at both men, and for the first time found himself unsure how to proceed, but probed, “How are you familiar with Colonel Kirillovich?”
Mike wondered at the inquiry, particularly since he had not mentioned Gaspar’s rank. “He stayed with my family for a year in high school while a foreign
exchange student, and we became friends. Gaspar is an admirable man, to whom I am indebted. He is the one who contacted my father to report me missing when I didn’t return from my trip to Makhachkala, which ultimately facilitated my rescue.”
Umar set his coffee down. “Charles, you were not kidding when you said we have a tangled web to sort out. As you must realize, I cannot allow the truth of Fakhir’s death to become known. I have much to think on before I make a decision. You will all be my guests until tomorrow. I give you my word, Mr. Broderick will remain unharmed while you are my honored guests.
“Jaasir, I am placing Daniel Broderick under your care. Should any harm come to him while here, you will pay the price. Saleet, please arrange a suite of rooms for our guests and provide all amenities they require.”
Turning to Daniel, he said, “Please communicate your dietary needs to Jaasir, and he will ensure cooks adhere to them. He will also sample all cuisine provided to you, so you are assured nothing is poisoned.”
Umar shifted his gaze back to Charles. “If you will please follow Saleet, I must consult with Ifran privately now.”
When Charles rose, the others did too. “We appreciate your gracious hospitality. I trust our honesty and honorable motivations will weigh heavy in your deliberations to protect the innocents in this spider’s web.” Without hesitation, Charles followed Saleet to the door.
Blaze and Mike flanked Blondie, all uncertain of what tomorrow would bring. Mike wished for his dad’s optimism. Blaze plotted exfil strategies. Dan was FINE as he determined to offer his life to bargain for the safe release of the others, accepting he was the one who killed the emir’s son.
Actions Reveal the Man
68
June 8
Al Sattar Palace – Security Room – 1245 Hours
Umar stared at the monitor, unsure what his decision would be. Fakhir was his child, of his flesh and blood, a member of the royal family … he should seek vengeance and retribution for his death. The man who killed him freely admitted he did so in his private reception room in a respectful, yet emotionless tone … as if citing dry facts.
