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Ammar heard the guard mumble to someone before returning to the gate. He sat in silence for several minutes. Then he heard approaching footsteps followed by a contemptuous voice.
"You are Mustapha Mahfouz?"
Ammar recognized the voice instantly. "Yes," he answered casually. "Do I know you?"
"We have not met. I am Khaled Fawzy, leader of Akhmad's revolutionary council."
"I've heard good things about you." The arrogant jackass, thought Ammar.
He doesn't know me under the bandages or by the slow rasp of my speech.
"it is indeed an honor to meet you. "
"Come along," said Fawzy, taking Ammar by the arm. "I'll take you to Akhmad. He thought you were still on a mission for him in Damascus. I don't think he's aware of your injuries."
"The result of an assassination attempt three days ago,,, Ammar lied artfully. "I left the hospital only this morning and flew straight here to brief Akhmad first hand."
"Akhrnad will be pleased to hear of your loyalty. He will also be saddened to learn of your injuries. Unfortunately your visit is poorly timed."
"I cannot meet with him?"
"He is at prayer," Fawzy said curtly.
Despite his suffering, Ammar could have laughed. He slowly became aware of another presence in the room. "It is vital he receive me."
"You may speak freely to me, mustapha Mahfouz." The name was spoken with heavy sarcasm. "I will relay your message."
:Tell Akhmad it concerns his ally."
'Who"" Fawzy demanded. "What ally?'
"Topiltzin."
The name seemed to hang in the room for an interminable time.
The stillness became intense. And then it was broken by a new voice.
"You should have stayed and died on the island, Suleiman," said Akhmad Yazid in a menacing tone.
Ammar's calm did not desert him. He had set his genius and last bit of strength for this moment. He was not about to wait for death. He was going to step forward and embrace it. Not for him a life of perpetual darkness and disfigurement-revenge was his deliverance.
"I could not die without standing in your forgiving presence one last time."
"Save your babble and remove those stupid bandages. You're losing your touch. Your crude imitation of Mahfbuz was fourth-rate for a man of your skills."
Ammar did not reply. He slowly un
wrapped the bandages until the ends came free, and he dropped them on the floor.
Yazid audibly sucked in his breath when he saw the hideous disfigurement of Ammar's face. Sadistic blood ran in Fawzy's veins: he stared with the perverted duill of one who enjoyed the sight of human wreckage.
"My payment for my service," Annnar slowly rasped.
"How is it you're alive?" Yazid asked, his voice shaken.
"My faithful friend Ibn hid me from the American Special Forces for two days until he fashioned a raft out of driftwood. After drifting with the current and paddling for ten hours, by the grace of Allah we were picked up by a Chilean fishing boat that set us ashore near a small airport at Puerto Williams. We stole an airplane and flew to Buenos Aires, where I chartered a jet to bring us to Egypt."
"That does not come easy to you," muttered Yazid. "You realize you signed your death warrant by coming here," Fawzy purred with anticipation.
