by Dale Brown
It appeared for a moment that he was going to open up to her, but then she saw the hood go over his blue eyes again, and she knew he was not yet ready. She quickly decided to give it up. "I am so very sorry," she said. "You will be permitted to stay on board this ship for as long as you like. If there is any assistance we can provide, don't hesitate to ask. The intelligence services of Egypt are at your command."
"Are you in charge of the Egyptian government now?"
"No," Susan replied. "Prime Minister Kalir automatically takes control of the government upon the incapacitation or… or dea… death… of…" Suddenly, Susan broke down in tears. She half turned away from Patrick, sobbing uncontrollably. She realized it was the first time she had wept for her husband.
Susan felt strong hands on her shoulders, and she looked up and saw the armored commando holding her-he had set the big, strange-looking gun down on the deck and was holding her as tenderly as his armored hands would allow. She turned toward him and was surprised to see tears unabashedly flowing down his cheeks as well. She clutched his body, wanting more than anything to touch human flesh, and finally reached up to touch his face and his tears.
"My husband was murdered, butchered in a mosque on one of the holiest days in all of Islam," Susan said through her sobs. "I was beside him until I was pulled away by Zuwayy of Libya and Khalid al-Khan, the chief justice of our supreme court. I know they were in on it together. I know they conspired to kill my husband. Only al-Khan had the authority to switch the guards and get the assassins so close to Kamal. I want to see them both pay for what they've done."
"My… my brother was killed in the attack on Samah," she heard him say through his tears. "He sacrificed himself to destroy those missiles. Then… then when the Libyan warships attacked, we abandoned ship-but my wife stayed behind to launch an attack on the Libyan guided missile frigate."
"Your wifeT Susan asked incredulously. "You… you lost your brother and your wife on this mission? My God…"
"I believe my wife is still alive-I don't know how or why I know, but she is still alive," Patrick said. "I will search every square inch of Libya until I find her." He raised his right hand and clenched his armored right hand into a fist. "And I will kill anyone who gets in my way."
"How… how horrible. How utterly horrible," Susan breathed. She placed her fingers on his cheek to turn him toward her. "I wish I could help you, but I can't. I don't know if I have any authority left in this country-I may be as much of a target here as you are in Libya. General Baris may be appointed as the national security adviser to the new president. If the mullahs take control of the government as we fear, he will not only be dismissed, but probably imprisoned or murdered. But as long as we have any authority left in Egypt, you and your men may stay aboard this vessel. But for your own safety, you should leave as soon as possible. If you need help, just ask."
Patrick thought about Wendy, and he thought about how lonely and isolated he felt standing on this Egyptian war-
ship" in Egyptian waters, surrounded by the Egyptian navy. He had no plan, and his options were rapidly decreasing. There was nothing they could do. "I understand," he said. "All we'll need is a shuttle to shore and access to a landing strip for our transport aircraft. By tonight, we'll be gone."
"You shall have anything you need." Susan motioned to the briefcase beside her. "That briefcase contains data CDs of all the latest intelligence info we have on all of the Mediterranean states. Some of it is only hours old. Photos, field reports, overhead imagery, radio intercepts, everything we could gather. It should help you find your wife and your missing men." He realized he was still grasping her shoulders, and he started to move them away, but she took his armored gauntlets and held them to her, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "Thank you for what you've done for Egypt," she said. "I'm sorry for the sacrifices you've made for our country."
"Where will you go now, Susan?"
Susan sighed. "Go to Cairo to bury my husband."
"I think that would be very dangerous."
"I must," she said. "It's my last duty as first lady of Egypt. After that, I can start planning my own future."
"What will you do?"
"I don't know. The United States might be the only place my husband's enemies can't touch me." She paused, then looked at Patrick. "And you? Will you go home as well?"
"I don't believe in leaving before the fighting's over," Patrick replied. "If my wife is alive, I'll find her. If she's dead, I'll make the Libyans sorry they ever decided to launch those attack planes."
"What do you intend to do?"
"I can't hope to use overhead imagery to find her, and there are too many bases she could have been taken to," Patrick said. "So I'm going to go right to the source. I'm going to make Zuwayy an offer he can't refuse." He looked at her, then added, "Seems to me you have some fighting of your own left to do."
"Fighting?"
"Someone killed your husband and tried to kill you, Susan," Patrick said. He looked into her eyes deeply, carefully, as if deciding if what he was about to say was accurate; then: "You're a soldier. No one would blame you if you got away-but something tells me it's not entirely in your nature to run."
"What do you suggest-soldier to soldier?"
He did not contradict her guess, but looked at her carefully, with a steady stare, and replied, "Find out who your allies and fellow soldiers are. Assemble and organize your forces, then evaluate: If your forces are superior, fight; if inferior, run, preserve your forces; if equal, stay on the move and harass the enemy."
"Sun-Tzu. Basic combat doctrine," Susan said with a nod and a thin smile. "I've been a politician's wife for so long I've almost forgotten how to be a soldier. But I don't have an army, and soon I probably won't have a country. Survival seems to be the best option." She paused. "Perhaps I can talk with the National Democratic Party officials, lend any support I can to our party's candidate for president. Dr. Kalir, the prime minister, will certainly run. The chief justice of the Egyptian Supreme Court, Ulama al-Khan, will run as well-he is the danger, the one who wants to turn Egypt into a theocracy and align it with the Muslim Brotherhood states. He has the power to do it, too."
"Sounds like a plan of action to me."
"Thanks for the advice," Susan said. She looked deeply into his eyes. "Before you go-can you tell me your real name?"
He hesitated once again, the old security regime automatically kicking in again, but it dissolved just as quickly. It was time to start trusting someone again, he told himself.
"Patrick. Patrick McLanahan."
"Chief petty officer? Colonel? Special agent..?"
Still trying to gather intelligence, Patrick noted. She needed careful watching. "Just Patrick."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Just Patrick McLanahan," Susan said with a mind-blowing smile. She reached up to kiss him on the cheek, holding her lips there long enough for him to feel a jolt of electricity course down his spine. "Welcome to Egypt."
About an hour later, Salaam, Baris, and Shafik disembarked from the supply vessel. They were met on the pier by Vice Marshal Ouda, the military district commander, who looked mad enough to chew nails. "How dare you overrule my orders and approach my ship without my permission?" he shouted. "Who do you think you are?"
"No one is undermining your authority, Vice Marshal Ouda," Susan said. "I thought it would help to resolve the issue if I met with the terrorists themselves."
"And were you successful?"
"Yes."
"Then they are surrendering?"
"On the contrary-I offered them the use of the facilities here on the base for as long as they need them."
"Ana mish faehem! Are you insane?" Ouda exclaimed. 'Those men are terrorists! They have taken an Egyptian warship and are threatening to kill everyone on board!"
"But they have not killed anyone, and I believe they are telling the truth when they say they will not harm our men," Susan said. "I do not want them harmed."
"Who are they?"
"They are commandos, mercenaries, on a mission against the Libyan government," Susan replied. "They destroyed several Libyan rockets that carried chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons aimed for Egypt."
Ouda looked surprised. "Or so they say."
"I believe them," Susan said. "I repeat, Vice Marshal, I do not want them harmed when they come ashore."
"I must report this incident and your contact with the terrorists."
Susan turned to General Baris and said, "There is your superior officer. You may give your report to him." But Susan saw the skepticism, perhaps even the outright hatred, in Ouda's eyes, and quickly concluded that Ouda would in-
deed report the incident-perhaps directly to Ulama Khalid al-Khan himself. "Have quarters near the airfield prepared for them-I'm sure they will wait until nightfall to make the move. Give them anything they require."
"This is ridiculous," Ouda growled. "Giving aid and comfort to terrorists!"
"They may have saved your base from complete annihilation, Vice Marshal," Susan said. "You should not only be welcoming them-you should be on your knees thanking them. Now get to it." She turned away, leaving a still very angry general officer fuming behind her.
"That was most unwise, Sekhmet," Baris said. "You should have played that calmly, perhaps even deferentially-included him in on what the terrorists did and who they are."
"Men like Ouda need to be talked to, Ahmad, not with."
"Ouda is a vice marshal and one of the highest-ranking and most highly decorated officers in the armed forces, Sekhmet," Baris reminded her. "I'm sure he does not approve of civilians telling him what to do on his base, especially a woman. Learn to be more diplomatic, especially when on his installation, in front of his men. He can make very, very serious trouble for us, if he chooses to do so."
"He will be a bigger fool than even I assume he is if he tries to use this incident against us," Susan said resolutely.
"Do not underestimate him," Baris warned. "And I suggest you meet with him later today and explain to him exactly what you hope to accomplish by helping those men. He may be a strutting peacock, but he is a military man-if you explain the tactical situation to him, he will be more likely to play along." He paused, looked at his friend, and said with a wry smile, "Perhaps you can explain it to me as well."
"Those men have weapons, and power, and abilities that I think we do not fully comprehend," Susan Bailey Salaam said. "As you said, soon we will have no power at all. Perhaps there is a way we can use their power to help restore a legitimate government to Egypt-or, at the very least, help us to survive."
CHAPTER 3
PEOPLE'S ASSEMBLY BUILDING,
CAIRO, EGYPT SEVERAL DAYS LATER
"My brothers and sisters, the danger all around us is great, and we must be strong and united," Ulama Khalid al-Khan said in a deep, resonant voice. He was speaking before a special session of the People's Assembly, the 454-member legislative body of the Egyptian government. As ever, Khan wore traditional Arab garments, the white jubba, quba, sirwal, and qalansuwa, even though most of the rest of the members of the People's Assembly wore Westernstyle business suits. But it was not only his clothing but his long, angular features, his carefully trimmed beard, haunting voice, and hypnotic eyes that commanded attention from all, even those who thought of holy men such as Khan as threats to freedom in Egypt.
"Our nation, our way of life, our very souls are under attack," Khan went on, his voice growing louder and more strident by the moment. "The horrible murder of our beloved President Salaam, may he stand at the right hand of God, is vivid proof that we are not safe and secure even within our holiest shrines and most precious places of worship. The danger is everywhere, my friends. It is time for bold leadership and unity for Misr." Khan preferred using the traditional name for his country, rather than the foreign-derived name, Egypt.
"I know many of you do not stand with me," Khan went on. His eyes drifted toward where he knew a large congregation of his political opponents sat. "Although our laws are based on Shari'a, the holy book, you do not feel those laws should be strictly interpreted and applied, as I and my fellow high priests do. I am not here to debate your attitudes about how to serve God. I am here to offer to you my vision for our country.
"My goal is to stop the anarchy, stop the violence, stop the corruption of our laws, our families, our companies, and our beliefs. I believe those dangers emanate from two places: the Zionists and the Americans." Several dozen legislators shook their heads and voiced their displeasure in carefully muted tones. "Yes, you know it as well as I. Our nation has slipped into crushing recession and inflation ever since the traitor Sadat signed the so-called peace treaty with Israel. We have barely been able to hold on to the very fabric of our country. And who has come to our aid to help? The Americans, with their spies, their fat bloodsucking industrialists, their weapons of hatred and class warfare, and their corrupting cash. It is all tied together, my brothers-the Zionists weaken us, and their masters the Americans suck us deeper into their lustful, depraved ways." More voices, some disagreeing but more of them agreeing with Khan, easily drowning out the dissenters.
"Well, I say, no more. No more! Allow me to place my name on the ballot in the next elections, and I promise to root out the evil in our government and our society. I promise to return Misr to the people and to God. You know the people are behind me. You cannot risk our future and alienating the will of the people by not allowing my name on the ballot. It is vital that our country begin the process of healing. With God's wisdom, strength, and strong guiding hand, I pledge to you that I will carry the banner of unity and honor for our country."
There was a round of light, polite applause throughout the People's Assembly-most of the members knew enough to at least appear enthusiastic. There was little doubt that the Assembly would vote to approve al-Khan's candidacy; the question was, would the people of Egypt vote for him? Khan was a very shadowy character, powerful in the Egyptian mosques and in smaller, more religious communities, but not very well known or trusted in the cities. He represented a step backward for many folks in Egypt, and that did not make him very popular.
Al-Khan bowed and stepped off the dais. The Egyptian prime minister extended his hand to shake Khan's, but alKhan simply bowed and kept his hands inside the sleeves of his robes. The prime minister awkwardly lowered his hand, ignored the gestures and whispers of disapproval from the Assembly, then stepped up to the dais as he was being introduced, "Thank you, Ulama al-Khan. Ladies and gentlemen of the Assembly, we will now hear from the National Democratic Party candidate, Prime Minister Dr. Ahmed Kalir."
Khalid al-Khan took his place in the front row center of the Assembly, reserved for special guests, and sat quietly while the next presenter was ushered to the dais with a round of enthusiastic applause. Dr. Ahmed Kalir represented the greatest challenge to Khan's candidacy. He was an experienced politician, a wealthy and internationally recognized cardiologist and surgeon, and well respected in the cities and among the business community. Kalir had transformed the post of prime minister, allowing the common people greater access to government. Although certainly not a charismatic personality, he was well known in the capital and well respected everywhere. Kalir was definitely the man to beat.
"I am pleased to be here," Kalir began. "On behalf of the National Democratic Party, I thank you for this opportunity to speak." He paused, an uncomfortably long silence, then went on: "And on behalf of the National Democratic Party and myself, I wish to announce to the National Assembly and the people of Egypt that I am withdrawing my name as candidate for president."
The entire National Assembly exploded into bedlamall except Khalid al-Khan. He could not have been more pleased, although he fought hard not to show it. With the death of Kamal Salaam, Ahmed Kalir was by far the most powerful secular politician in Egypt-he was as influential and respected as al-Khan was feared. With him withdrawing his name from nomination, the road was clear for alKhan to be elected the next pres
ident of Egypt.
And at that, Kalir looked directly at al-Khan and nodded. What was going on?
"I wish to place my support and prayers for my choice as candidate for president, the one person in all of Egypt who has the moral strength, intelligence, and vision to lead our nation forward out of this crisis and toward the peace and security we all seek," Kalir said. Was Kalir actually endorsing him for president? al-Khan thought. This was too good to be true! "With the blessings of Allah and the hopes and prayers of a nation, I place into nomination today the next president of Egypt… our first lady of Egypt, Madame Susan Bailey Salaam."
Khan was already placing his hands on his left breast, feigning surprise at this unexpected endorsement, when he gasped in total shock. Susan Salaam was alive?
And then he noticed Kalir looking directly at al-Khan, the accusation obvious in his face. Al-Khan had to fight to erase his surprised expression. It was a test, a stupid trick, nothing more.
And then, to al-Khan's complete surprise, Susan Salaam walked out on stage, and then there was no doubt. The entire People's Assembly fairly leapt to their feet and applauded, some even cheering and stamping their feet.
Susan Salaam walked gingerly, as if still in pain, but she did so without using crutches or a walker, just a simple wooden cane with a large, wide crook supporting her left leg. She wore an eye patch on her left eye, and the hairline on the left side of her head was higher than on the right, indicating she had lost some hair or sustained a head injury.
Her hands were marred with cuts and burns; her arms and torso were covered by simple, unadorned clothing, but the burns definitely appeared to extend down her arms.
But her natural beauty was still striking, still breathtaking. Susan made no attempt to hide any of her wounds with makeup, which enhanced her beauty, her sense of pride-and her pain-even more. She embraced Ahmed Kalir and then stepped to the podium, waving to the assembly. Yes, even al-Khan had to admit, she was still beautiful, achingly so.
