Wings of Fire pm-10

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Wings of Fire pm-10 Page 40

by Dale Brown


  "Yes, sir," Vasilyeva said. "He won't be difficult to manipulate."

  "I have no doubt. Take control of the situation in that palace. But most importantly: Save those prisoners. I believe they're in Tripoli-they may even be right in the palace."

  "I'll find them, Comrade."

  "And if you find a woman named McLanahan being kept prisoner by Zuwayy, capture her and get her out of there. She could be the key to getting our hands on the bastards that put me in this dreary place. If you find her, I want her taken alive and brought back to me."

  "What is she to you, sir?"

  "If I can use those captives to lure the Tin Man into a trap, then Salaam can go to hell," Kazakov said acidly. "I'll get around to eventually burying that little bitch too." He looked at Vasilyeva. "But my real target is the husband, General Patrick McLanahan. If you encounter him, you are to kill him without fail. Do you hear me? Without fail."

  "Why don't I just kill them all, Comrade?" Vasilyeva asked with an evil smile, "and we will let God sort them out?"

  KING JADALLAH AS-SANUSI STADIUM,

  TRIPOLI, UNITED KINGDOM LIBYA

  SEVERAL DAYS LATER

  No one in the entire Arab world had seen anything like it in more than forty years-and, some surmised, nothing like this had been seen in northern Africa in more than two thousand years.

  King Jadallah as-Sanusi Stadium was packed: more than two thousand spectators in the stands, another fifty thousand on the field, plus another five thousand dignitaries from all over the world in a specially set-up seating section, celebrating the opening of the First Muslim Brotherhood World Unity Conference. News agencies from around the world were carrying the celebrations and speeches live. It had the atmosphere of the opening day of the Olympics. Security was tight, almost oppressively so, but it did not deter from the festival atmosphere of this unprecedented gathering.

  One by one, the presidents or representatives of the member nations of the Muslim Brotherhood-Sudan, Palestine, Algeria, Syria, Jordan, Yemen, Somalia, Albania, Iraq, and Afghanistan-filed into the top VIP section of the stadium, to the delighted cheers of the crowd. Once these ministers were welcomed and seated, the provisional member nations of the Muslim Brotherhood, representing most of the rest of the Muslim world, entered. It was an incredible sight to see longtime enemies and adversaries greeting and embracing each other, and each time it happened it delighted the crowd even more.

  The last representatives to enter were the most important: the host nation and the leader of the Muslim Brotherhood, King Jadallah as-Sanusi of the United Kingdom of Libya; and two of its most important provisional members-Crown Prince Abdallah bin Abd al-Aziz al-Sa'ad, the deputy foreign minister, commander of the Saudi National Guard, and heir to the throne of Saudi Arabia; and President Susan Bailey Salaam, the newly elected president of Egypt. The presence of the Crown Prince was significant in two ways: It signaled a more favorable change in attitude of the Saudi royal family toward the Muslim Brotherhood and, secondarily, to Jadallah Zuwayy; yet, because King Fa'ad himself did not attend, it was apparent that the Saudi royal family wasn't ready to commit to joining the Brotherhood quite yet.

  The stir caused by the appearance of the Saudi Crown Prince was muted in comparison to the appearance of the president-some said the "queen"-of Egypt. Susan Bailey Salaam was greeted with thunderous applause, singing, cheering, and chanting-and when she lifted her arms, palms upward, to acknowledge the crowd, their roaring redoubled. The eventual appearance of the host and leader of the Muslim Brotherhood, Jadallah Zuwayy, was hardly noticed-Zuwayy tried to delay his appearance on the dais for as long as he could to allow time for the cheering for Bailey to subside, but he finally had to step up anyway because it was obvious he would be waiting an awful long time.

  There was a brief prayer service, followed by performances by dancers and singers from each of the member nations, and then each representative was allowed to give some brief remarks. Some of the representatives were better speakers than others; some others ran longer than their allotted five minutes. The crowd became restless. Everyone knew why: They were waiting for her to speak. Jadallah Zuwayy had no choice but to speak last: As the host, he was obligated to let all of his guests precede him. There was nothing he could do.

  Zuwayy knew it was going to be a long and wasted day the moment Salaam stepped up to the microphone and the crowd saw it was her-they cheered for five minutes straight even before she uttered a single word.

  The erstwhile king of Libya waited patiently for the cheering for Salaam to die down; when it was obvious it was not going to do so right away, Zuwayy signaled his Director of Arab Unity, Juma Mahmud Hijazi, to call for order-and it made it doubly embarrassing for Zuwayy when the crowd virtually ignored Hijazi's request. A sound technician finally had to inject some feedback into the sound system, and the loud squeal reverberating through the stadium finally helped to silence the crowd. Zuwayy read his welcoming remarks quickly, without any passion, and got off the dais as quickly as he could.

  The members of the audience and those watching around the world who expected Susan Bailey Salaam to give one of her impassioned, fervent speeches on peace, freedom, prosperity, and unity among the Muslim nations might have been disappointed. Susan's speech lasted only a few short seconds-but she could not have uttered any more important or rousing words than the ones she chose that afternoon.

  Susan stepped up to the microphone, waited a few moments for the cheers and shouting to subside, then touched her forehead with the fingertips of both hands, took a deep breath, and sang, "Ash-Hadu anla elaha illa-allah wa ashhadu anna Muhammadan rasul-Allah! I bear witness that there is none truly to be worshiped but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah."

  The crowd burst into insane cheering and applause. Susan raised her hands and repeated the words of the Shahada, the testimony of faith, but her words, even atnplified, were easily drowned out by the cheering crowd.

  Zuwayy was thunderstruck. She had done it: She had stolen this conference, this demonstration of his power, cleanly away from him. He might as well have closed the ceremonies and given her the mantle of presidency.

  It was not until after the closing ceremonies that Zuwayy could finally see her alone in his palace office. He meant to have her wait for him in his office to at least try to reassert some control in their discussions, but since the media had followed Salaam to this meeting, Zuwayy had to make a show of welcoming her to his palace and showing her some of its antiques, treasures, and artifacts of Libyan history.

  He quickly dropped all pretext of friendship with her once they were alone in his office. "So, Mrs. Salaam, you've had quite a week here. You have the entire world eating out of your hand." Minister of Arab Unity Hijazi and Chief of the General Staff Tahir Fazani were also on hand with Zuwayy; General Ahmad Baris, Salaam's defense minister, and Captain Amina Shafik, Susan's new chief of staff, accompanied her.

  "I think it was a most successful conference, Your Highness," Salaam said, "thanks to you and your staff"

  "No, no, no-I think the credit all goes to you, Madame President," Zuwayy retorted irritably. "Everywhere I went I heard cries of 'Republic! Republic!' and 'Queen Susan!' You must be very pleased with your newfound popularity, Madame."

  "I am proud and happy that our people are starting to think and speak as one, Your Highness," Salaam said, wearing her most diplomatic smile and tone of voice.

  "I'm happy that you're happy, 'Queen' Salaam," Zuwayy said.

  Susan's smile never dimmed-but Ahmad Baris's eyes narrowed in concern. "Have we done something to offend you, Highness?" he asked.

  "Of course not," Zuwayy replied curtly. He looked as if he was going to sit at his desk, but swung the chair out of his way and continued to pace around his desk. "But it seems I'm being forced to remind a lot of folks here this week that the Muslim Brotherhood doesn't seek a republic. Our purpose is not to form one nation or even a federation of nations. Our purpose, Madame, is to assist A
rab governments in forming and maintaining a Shura, a government based on Islamic law. We don't want to go through the trouble of erasing centuries of history for our member nations-we only want to encourage and assist governments in embracing Muslim holy law in its activities. Do you understand, Madame?"

  "Yes, Highness," Susan replied. "I understand perfectly." She did not take her eyes off him, and the smile remained as well, which only served to make Zuwayy angrier. "Is there something specific you wished of me, Highness?"

  "Wish? What do I wishl I'll tell you what I wish, Queen Salaam!"

  "What His Highness is trying to say, Madame President," Juma Hijazi interjected, glancing at Zuwayy, hoping that he could keep his anger in check for just a few more minutes, "is that His Highness is still waiting for a conclusion to the contract between yourself and the Central African Petroleum Partners for the kingdom's share of the partnership. As you remember, Madame, you said that in exchange for His Highness's support during your elections, the kingdom would receive a one-third share of the partnership-"

  "It wasn't one-third, Minister, it was thirty percent," General Baris interjected.

  "One-third, thirty percent-it's all the same damn thing," Zuwayy retorted.

  "You're right, General-it was thirty percent," Hijazi said. "But the fact is, the agreement has not been concluded. Egypt has graciously and effectively opened its borders to many Arab nations and instituted the work visa program in record time, which has helped ten of thousands of workers from all over the Arab world. It is a shining example of the spirit of cooperation that we hope to continue."

  "Thank you, Minister."

  "But what about the rest of it?" Zuwayy interjected hotly. "Part of the deal was a third of the partnership, a third of the revenues. We haven't seen a dinar yet. If you try to back out of the deal now, Salaam, you'll find yourself at the bottom-"

  "Do you have some explanation for the delay, Madame Salaam?" General Fazani interjected before Zuwayy could threaten Salaam's life right in front of witnesses.

  "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation, Majesty," Baris offered.

  "Yeah? What is it, Baris?"

  "Perhaps it is that you haven't paid for it yet, Majesty," Susan said. Her smile never wavered, but her eyes suddenly lit up in slow-burning anger.

  "Paid for it?"

  "Majesty, the CAPP cartel invested a total of three point six billion U.S. dollars toward the project," Baris said. "Egypt has promised in writing to grant the kingdom of Libya one-third of its shares in the partnership, but only if Libya agreed to purchase one-fourth of the shares owned by the cartel. That requires an investment by the kingdom of Libya of nine hundred million U.S. dollars."

  "What? You expect me to pay a bunch of fat-cat Western oil companies almost a billion dollars for oil that belongs to me?"

  Hijazi couldn't stop Zuwayy from stating his claim to the Salimah oil fields, but both Salaam and Baris pretended not to notice what he said. "I think what His Highness is saying, Madame," Hijazi interjected, "is that perhaps we can come to some sort of accommodation."

  "What's that?"

  "Allow us to pay our fee to the cartel out of our share of the oil revenues," Hijazi said. "It can be paid over, say, five years-they can take it right off the top of our share. We will even agree to pay a reasonable interest rate-it can be a loan of sorts, secured with the oil revenues from Salimah."

  Susan paused for a moment, then nodded. "I don't think the Central African Petroleum Partners cartel would object, Minister," Susan said.

  Hijazi and Fazani breathed long sighs of relief, smiled, and nodded at each other. "That's good news, Madame President. I think that we-"

  "But I object," Susan added.

  The Libyan ministers' mouths dropped open. Zuwayy was stunned-he couldn't believe what he had just heard. To the Libyan ministers' surprise, they noticed that even Ahmad Baris had a shocked look on his face. "Madame President, you… you are saying you will not accept a payment option based on our revenues? I don't understand."

  "It is quite obvious, Minister," Susan said, looking directly at Zuwayy, her smile gone. "Libya made this deal by threatening Egypt with war if we did not agree to your demands. You have no right to any part of the Salimah project-it is not your land, nor did you invest in any part of the production infrastructure. Yet I accepted your demand, even though I felt my country was under duress, because I wanted peace and prosperity for all of Egypt's neighbors. I made only one request-that you reimburse the European cartel for their shares in payment for their substantial investment in the project. That was more than fair-it was the right thing to do.

  "Now, as Libya has done before, you are reneging on your promise. Not only do you demand the shares that Egypt was going to give you for free, but you then demand that you take the next six years to reimburse the European cartel for their shares. This tells me one thing: that Libya cannot be trusted, that Libya-no, that you threewant nothing more than to rape and steal from your own country."

  "What did you say?" Zuwayy thundered, his eyes bulging in sheer fury. "How dare you? How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I will have you executed!" Zuwayy lunged for his desk drawer. Fazani, knowing exactly what he was reaching for, used his body to keep the drawer closed. "Get out of the way, Fazani! I'm going to kill this Anglo bitch for what she's just said!"

  "No, Jadallah!"

  "I said, get out of the way-"

  "Madame Salaam," Hijazi said quickly, "I strongly urge you to immediately and sincerely retract that statement and beg His Majesty's forgiveness."

  "I will not," Salaam said, rising to her feet. She kept her hooked-crook cane in her hands, as if keeping it at the ready-Hijazi knew what she could do with that cane-but stood calmly right in front of Zuwayy's desk while he still grappled with Fazani.

  "You're deadV Zuwayy shouted. "You are deadl Yours will be the shortest presidency in Egyptian history. Your husband will look like Adonis compared to what your body will look like after I get done with it!"

  "Good day, 'King,'" Susan said, making an exaggerated bow. "Don't worry about your people-they will be perfectly happy in Egypt. Where do you think you'll be headed next? I think Brazil is nice this time of year."

  "Get out!" Zuwayy cried out. "And I'd make sure you know where your bomb shelters are in Cairo-you'll need them!" Salaam and Baris departed, with Shafik backing toward the door right behind them, her right hand invisible under her jacket. "I want her dead, Fazani!" Zuwayy shouted after they departed.

  "You can't kill Salaam now, Jadallah-she's more popular than God right now," Fazani said. "If anyone finds out you put out a contract on her, we won't even be able to hide in Brazil. We'll have to live in Antarctica."

  "I don't want a piece of Salimah anymore-I want the whole damned thing destroyed!" Zuwayy shouted. "That American bitch has insulted me for the last time!" His eyes spun wildly as he thought. "Launch the attack immediately."

  "Jadallah, only a few hundred of the twenty thousandplus Libyans working there now have returned," Hijazi said. "You can't attack now! We'd be slaughtering our own people!"

  "No! Launch the attack immediately!" he shouted. "Do it. Let Queen Salaam be the ruler of the largest graveyard in Africa."

  Jadallah Zuwayy stomped off to his private residence, kicking furniture and individuals out of his way with equal fury. "How dare she?" he shouted as he slammed the door to his apartment closed. "How dare that bitch spit in my face like that? Who does she think she is?"

  "Who, my lord?" a woman's thickly accented voice asked behind him.

  "An Egyptian whore that has the unmitigated balls to tell me what to do!"

  The woman approached him, naked, holding a crystal glass of thick, potent arkasus, or licorice brandy, in one hand, and a silver tray with a linen napkin covering it. He tossed down the brandy in one gulp. She set the tray down on a nightstand beside a lounge sofa, then kissed the back of his neck and started to massage his shoulders. "Why don't you just eliminate this Egyptian whore, my lor
d?" the woman asked.

  "Because she was just elected president of the Muslim Brotherhood, and she is a guest in my country," Zuwayy said. "Do you know nothing of Arab culture, Russian?"

  Ivana Vasilyeva felt for the knot of bone at the base of Zuwayy's long, scrawny neck, then counted the right number of vertebrae up-right there. Snap that bone and Zuwayy would become a helpless lump of flesh on the floor, unable to do anything-except feel pain. But she simply continued her massage. "Forgive me, my lord," Vasilyeva said. "You must instruct me about your country and all its customs."

  Zuwayy turned, ran a hand roughly over a nipple, then pinched it, hard. Vasilyeva opened her mouth in a half-yelp of pain and half-moan of pleasure. "The first lesson is: Women must learn to be subservient," Zuwayy said. "You are nothing but bleeding, whining creatures who respond better to the lash than to reason or reality. The quicker you understand this, the happier your life will be."

  "Yes, master," Vasilyeva said.

  Zuwayy kissed her lips roughly, released her nipple, then lay down on the lounger. He rolled up the sleeve of his right arm. "You were recommended to me because you had a unique talent. Show me. And if you disappoint me, you shall pay dearly for it."

  "I understand, master." Vasilyeva removed the linen napkin from the tray, revealing a hypodermic syringe and a rubber hose. She wrapped the hose around Zuwayy's biceps, kissed his right hand, then curled his fingers for him, silently telling him to make a fist. Zuwayy never felt the needle slip into his vein; never felt a thing as Vasilyeva injected the drug.

  What an idiot, Vasilyeva thought. She had bribed a Tripoli drug pusher to spread her name around as a trained nurse and anesthesiologist; she had been admitted to the residence almost immediately. Zuwayy liked whores and he liked heroin-he was a slave to both. But apparently he disliked having his nurses and his whores around for too long, so he usually had them killed after about a week in the residence.

 

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