“Of course,” the emir agrees, “Every man we can spare will be at your disposal.”
“The desert sheikhs have offered some of their warriors; I think we should take them up on it,” Nijad proposes.
“Good idea, brother. And the soldiers at the garrison in Z̧almā?”
Nijad wipes his hand over his face, “That’s a difficult one, Kadar. The information tells us that the threats are directed at our capital city, Al Qur’ah, but I don’t want to put all our eggs in one basket and run the risk that the information is to put us on the wrong track. There’s always a chance it’s the oil field construction that’s the main target. If we pull the army away from the southern desert, it could leave us wide open to attack.”
“I’d advise increasing the guards around the oil field in any event. And the patrols along the pipeline.”
“That’s just what I was thinking, Hunter.” Nijad nods at the man who’s been working closely with him to ensure the construction of the oil wells goes smoothly.
“From the list of names on the thumb drive, I’ve tried to work out who could be possibly involved with the threat here. Interpol has supplied me with images where they can, but facial recognition hasn’t pulled anything up so far. None of them has entered the country recently.” Cara pauses, “It’s strange, I don’t recognise any of the names. They’re not people I’ve heard of before.”
“That’s why the information is useful. Normally al-Fahri’s lieutenants keep themselves well under the radar. At least we’ve got something to look out for.” Kadar looks pleased, as though this is some progress.
Sean’s shaking his head, “Could be helpful,” his words are positive, but he looks doubtful, “We’ll be dealing with foot soldiers, fanatics who’d give up their lives for the cause. Not sure any of the leaders would appear.”
“But they might,” Kadar again throws a smile toward Cara, “So if we can get the photos circulated we can make as many people aware as possible.”
“I don’t want people getting hung up looking for faces which they don’t find,” Hunter throws in, “They have to be looking for anything suspicious or out of place. Abnormal behaviour, mysterious packages and such.”
“Good point,” Nijad agrees, “But as long as we make that clear, I still think having the photos might help. Thanks for sorting that.” He places his hand on the arm of his wife causing her to turn and smile at him. As he looks back, love and respect shine from his eyes. Love can be found in unexpected places, I think to myself, remembering how she was kidnapped to be his bride.
For the next hour, we sort out details and then when our plans are firmed up, make the decision to get to work. With the imminent threat, no one wants to delay becoming familiar with the place they’ve taken responsibility for.
Cara offers to show me to the harem, but before we leave the room, Sean pulls her aside, and I overhear he’s discussing arrangements for Mollie. Once the sheikha has reassured him his baby will be in good hands in the palace nursery, and that it’s no trouble having her there, she takes my arm.
“Come, I’ll show you to the harem now. I think you’ll be surprised at the alterations, even though you didn’t see it before. It was decaying away before Zoe got her hands on it, but the restoration has just about finished now.” At last, she pauses for breath, but she’s not finished, “We’ve got a photo shoot lined up with a couple of the major bridal magazines the week after next. We want as much publicity over the world as possible.”
“Have you put together what you’re offering as a package, yet?” I ask, just to be polite, not seeing how I’d ever be able to partake of anything that’s offered it doesn’t overly fascinate me. But it seems to be her pet project, so I’ll let her talk about it.
She laughs, “Interested, are you? Yes, I can give you a brochure if you want.”
“Not for me, personally,” I take the opportunity to refute that suggestion and also to show I’m thinking with my professional head, “But it occurred to me if you’re sending brochures out into the public domain, it’s possible Amir al-Fahri has got hold of one. In which case, I’d like to know as much he does.”
“Good idea! We’ll stop off at my office and pick one up.”
I already knew the palace was huge, but after the brief detour my legs are growing tired by the time we eventually reach large golden doors which were the original entrance to the harem from the palace. As Cara unlocks them, she explains, “We’ve opened up the external entrance, and any visitors will come in that way. When it’s in use, these doors will be locked and barred so no one can enter the palace from here.” She indicates a series of metal bars which will come down to prevent the doors from being opened. “For now, we’re just relying on the original lock, but once we’re up and running, these will be in place.”
Reverently I reach out my hand and touch the surface of the doors and throw her a questioning look.
“Yes,” she laughs again as she correctly interprets my silent question, “Real gold.” As I whistle through my teeth she continues, “Kadar was horrified when Zoe said she was only using gold plated fittings inside, but as she pointed out, we didn’t want anyone running off with a solid gold tap.”
I can see her point. These doors alone must be worth a king’s ransom, but being so large, it’s unlikely anyone could make away with them, and certainly not undetected. You’d need a crane to lift them. The wealth in this palace is simply staggering.
She ushers me through the golden gateway, and I get a first glimpse of what even I have to admit is a magical place. Immediately I’m drawn into the romance of how it would have been in its heydey. There are separate rooms around the outside which Cara tells me used to be the concubine’s cubicles, but for modern privacy have now been roofed and given doors. A tiny en-suite is provided inside each one, and larger bathrooms with original Victorian plumbing that Zoe had sourced from somewhere, are available as well. There are twenty rooms in all―this place is vast! In the centre of the area is a pool with a beautiful mosaic.
Cara presses a button, and huge glass windows roll aside to reveal the gardens as well as allowing the hot air to flow in making me appreciate the air conditioning that has been installed in the interior. Moving ahead she leads me outside. I follow behind, my eyes wide open as I try to take in everything there is to see.
“Zoe did a lot of the work herself out here.” She points to the low walls surrounding flowerbeds overflowing with beautiful blooms, “You wouldn’t think all this was crumbling away, would you? The artisans Zee employed did a great job of using the original stone, or where they were unable to, getting a good match.”
It looks magnificent, and the fountain playing in the pond full of colourful fish tops it off.
Cara touches my arm again, “This way,” she points back into the interior, and as we enter, closes the glass doors again. I welcome the coolness not, as yet, being used to the harsh climate. She takes me to one side; there’s a spectacular bar set up, with tables around, and every alcoholic drink imaginable on the shelves. The whole thing’s been constructed with consideration to the Arabic theme. Well, ignoring that this is one of the few places in Amahad where alcoholic drinks will be served.
“Accommodation is available for staff this way,” she leads me across to a small, almost hidden door. “They don’t need to live in the palace, but we’re providing them somewhere to stay if they need it.” She leads me up a narrow staircase. “This was where the sultan would sit and pick out his favourite for the night. The cubicles had no roofs back in those days, of course. And this, through here, was the old sultan’s suite of rooms. This part of the palace hasn’t been occupied for a century or more, so we’ve extended the staff accommodation out. There are security doors so even they are restricted from entering the palace proper.”
Swiftly becoming the professional, I pull my mind away from the romance this place evokes, and examine the security set up instead. It seems more than adequate. Steel doors have been installed complete wi
th alarms. “What about in the case of fire?”
“The doors will open automatically if the fire alarm sounds in this area.”
They seem to have thought of everything, but there is something I’ll have to discuss with Sean. What if there was an attack on the harem? If they set a fire, could intruders enter the palace via these entrances? Hmm. I make a mental note to ask him later.
“What about catering for your guests?”
“The harem had a kitchen area downstairs, we’ve modernised it.”
“And the staff? Have they been recruited yet?”
“Zee’s working on that now. We’re having fun trying to decide on the ‘eunuchs’. Of course, we can’t castrate them, but she’s working on a uniform that includes compression pants. Would be a bit of a giveaway to have men walking around with visible hard-ons.”
I burst out laughing. “I can think a few men I’d like to volunteer to be castrated.” I’m thinking of Simon for a start. Then I still, it’s the first time I’ve ever thought of him in a joking sense. Could that be an indication that I am moving on?
She’s giggling, “I’ve met a couple of those too, but,” she sighs dramatically, “While it’s a lovely thought, I don’t think I’d get Kadar to agree.” Then she thinks and says, “Though if Hunter was on the list…”
Grinning, I ask, “What is it with you and Hunter?”
She waves her hand in the air, “Oh, we go way back. He’s very demonstrative, and Kadar is a stickler for protocol when it involves a man touching a woman. Hunter likes to hug me, and the more Kadar protests…”
“The more he does it,” I finish for her, then give her a curious look, “What does your husband think of him?”
“He’s not too keen on him cuddling me but knows he’s just got to get used to it. And he’s been working with him a lot more closely lately, so I think they’re becoming good friends. Right, have you seen enough?”
I nod, “But where are the guards I was promised? I’ll want to talk to them,” I pause, then add as the thought hits me, “I’ll need an interpreter.”
“I’ll sort that out for you. Come, I’ll take you to the guard room, and you can introduce yourself to the men in charge.”
My eyes narrow, “Will they be okay with a woman directing them?”
She shrugs, “As long as you know what you’re doing then they’ll respect you.”
As we make our way out of the harem I can only hope that I do.
Chapter 26
Sean
Even though it’s only just afternoon by the time I reach the casino, it’s already buzzing, reminding me again that casinos all over the world are set up to make time meaningless, to keep patrons at the tables as long as possible, giving no indication of whether it’s night or day outside. A place like this never sleeps, and staff work around the clock, making themselves inconspicuous as they tidy and clean. It’s never quiet, bells ringing and the clink of coins paying out from the slot machines, music playing, the loud sound of voices placing bets and the cries of croupiers encouraging them. It’s an exhausting place to be.
I make my way through the massive central area and, by showing my Grade A identification, am allowed through to the security rooms on the mezzanine floor. A wall made of one-way glass lets me look out into the casino and, behind me, a mass of monitors, showing various zoomed in views from the tables below, all being carefully scrutinised by men and women who sit, staring at them intently. I know they’ll be watching out for people like Danielle; people who cheat.
Taken into a small office for our hastily arranged meeting, I sit across from the Head of Security and bring him up to date. His face falls as he digests the implications of my news, and I give him a few seconds to process it. His expression darkens as he considers the information, showing me he’s taking the threat seriously. My initial impression, that this is a man who gives his all to his job, is confirmed once we get down to discussing the details. His immediate concern is for the safety of his staff and customers; the building comes second.
“I’ve got three security teams working shifts,” he explains.
“I’d like to brief each team as it comes on duty.”
“I’ll tell the six to two team to stay a bit longer today, so you can bring them up to speed as they hand off to the next.”
“That would be helpful, thank you.”
He considers for a moment, “I’ll give you the grand tour, shall I?”
Immediately I indicate my assent, the sooner I acquaint myself with everything, the better. As he leads me through the areas the customers don’t normally see, I’m pleased to find that as well as the interior cameras, the outside of the casino is also able to be monitored. I show him the photos of possible people to look out for while emphasising anyone looking suspicious or out of the ordinary should be viewed as a potential threat.
Checking my watch, I see we’ve got a couple of hours before the next shift change, so take my leave of the security head and decide to re-familiarise myself with the layout on the floor below.
Walking around the tables, I’m reminded of the night I met Danielle, and pause at that fateful table. I’d been playing roulette and losing―only the small amount that I could afford to; gambling’s not my addiction. But as I’d glanced up, with a frustrated sigh at yet another loss I’d met her eyes, unable to miss the interest that flared there.
As I pushed away from the table, not wanting to be tempted to lose any more and had gathered up my few remaining chips, she put something in my hand. My wallet. Stunned, I’d felt in my pocket, not realising I’d lost it. Having confirmed mine was indeed missing, I asked her, “Where did you find it?”
“Dropped on the floor.” Her voice was husky, sexy. “I opened it and saw your ID card, then when I saw you at the table, recognised it was yours.
I might have been dumb, but never for one second had it occurred to me that she’d stolen it herself. Everything about her reeked of money, her clothes, her perfectly styled hair, and even the perfume she wore. I simply thanked her, bought her a drink then, at her invitation, followed her to her room where she had apparently enjoyed her reward.
More than enjoyed it, as the truth’s now come out. And she’d pilfered far more than fifty euros that night.
Now, standing, looking at the table my head shakes from side to side. How could I have been so naïve? And then the vision of Danielle morphs into Nessa’s face, and the way she reacts to my touch. Fuck, both occasions I’ve had her now were times to remember, unlike Danielle who I can barely recollect. Visions of Nessa’s innocent reaction to being restrained and her untutored attempt to take me into her mouth make my cock so fucking hard it’s clear I was a fool to think I’d only want her the once. There’s no comparison between the two women. Sure, I was able to perform with Danielle, but it was perfunctory, pleasant enough. But Nessa? Her reactions blew everything else out of the water.
She’d stopped me last night, when I was eager for round three, strangely having to be the one to remind me we’d agreed to limit our sexual interaction to the club. It wouldn’t have taken much for either of us to give in, and I suppose she’d been right to call a halt to it, but fuck me; I wanted her again. The experienced subs and women like the Danielle’s of this world haven’t got much to learn. But a blank canvass? There had been wonder in her wide-open eyes as she’d shattered as if she’d never come so hard in her life. The sense of accomplishment that gave me was what made it outstanding for me too.
But boundaries have been drawn and must be adhered to. We have to work together after all.
My thoughts are interrupted when I feel something rubbing against my leg, and looking down see an enthusiastic black and white springer spaniel. I’ve worked with both him and his handler before, so as my eyes follow the lead upwards, I’m not surprised to see it's in the hand of a dour looking man in his fifties. My lips curl up as I greet him, “Hi Frank. Good to see you here.” As he gives a nod in return and what passes for a smile for him―he g
ets on better with canines than humans―I sink down on my haunches. “And what about you, Butch fella? Are you a good boy? Yes, you are. You’re such a good boy.” I ruffle the spaniel’s head and am rewarded by an enthusiastic lick on my ear and a glance of warm approval from his handler. From previous conversations with Frank I know at four years old Butch, about halfway through his working career, is an experienced sniffer dog and has often proved himself since passing his obligatory nine-week training with flying colours.
Wiping away dog saliva from the side of my head with the back of my hand, I stand. “You’re going to be patrolling here at the casino I take it?”
“Yes, we’ve already done one sweep, and Butch and I will remain on duty until our shift ends. As it’s a twenty-four-hour business, we’ve another team taking over later. He’s found nothing of interest up to now.” Frank takes a ball on a rope out of his pocket. “You’re a good boy, Butch,” he tells his partner and proceeds to play a quick game of tug with the dog. It’s how he keeps the dog interested and motivated in his search.
“The rest of your team with you?”
“Gray is at the airport, and Masters is joining Ryan at the souk.”
The dogs are great allies in discovering concealed bombs. However, we do need to be careful in this Muslim country where canines can be considered unclean. That’s why Butch is wearing a harness clearly saying in both Arabic and English; Working Dog Do Not Touch.
I give Butch another pat, then Frank gives him a command which reminds him he’s on duty and waves his hand toward the next area to be searched. The pair go off, the dog’s tail wagging nineteen to the dozen and his nose sniffing as he looks for the prize. While Butch is animated and lively, I have no concerns, but if he stops moving, I’ll be worried. If he finds something suspicious, he’ll sit still and point with his nose and eyes toward where he can sense explosives might be. For obvious reasons, his behaviour is unlike a narcotics dog who would bite, scratch, and worry at where they think drugs are concealed. Which certainly wouldn’t be safe in the case of a bomb.
Identity Crisis (Blood Brothers #4) Page 25
