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"I will give you a report in a few days." Radih said.
Sayyed dismissed him with a look of contempt and addressed the other men. "The man downstairs
is an employee for the CIA who has spent the better part of the last four years in Damascus. My government will want to assess the damage he has caused. To do that thoroughly, I will need Radih to transfer his hostage to me. I'm afraid this point is not negotiable."
"But he is my hostage," Radih said, half yelling. "It was my operation."
"An operation that was not approved."
Radih ignored the point and said, "He is extremely valuable. He has told us his company will pay a large sum to get him back."
"Not if he is an American agent." Sayyed shook his head sadly and scratched his thick black beard. "As we know all too well, the Americans do not negotiate for hostages. Especially the CIA." Pointing at the ceiling he added, "They are far more likely to track him down and drop a bomb on all of us."
The other men shared nervous looks. "The other American, the one you grabbed in front of his hotel last week," Badredeen said to the Fatah leader, "he has told you implicitly that he is an agent?"
"It is my suspicion," Radih said, thankful for the breathing room.
"What was he doing in Beirut?"
"He works for one of their big telecommunications companies."
Radih blathered on about his prisoner, but Sayyed was only half listening. The CIA man in the basement had verified the fact that the other man was a legitimate businessman, but Sayyed did not feel like coming to the aid of the twit from Fatah. He would only know for certain after spending months interrogating the men. Sayyed looked at Mughniyah and said, "Some men are very good liars. It takes a skilled hand to discern the truth from these Americans."
Mughniyah nodded and spoke for the first time. "I don't like the coincidence. We should turn him over to Sayyed. He will get to the bottom of it."
Sayyed was quietly pleased. Mughniyah had a reputation for killing those who crossed him. Radih would not want to defy him.
"The entire things gives me great concern," the Iranian chimed in.
Sayyed could barely stand the man. He was a self-proclaimed intellectual who was part of the rabble who had helped bring down the shah and bring about the Islamic Revolution of Iran.
"It cannot be a good sign that the Americans are back," Jalil said, as he caressed his bottom lip with the forefinger of his right hand. "Nothing good can come from them poking around in our business."
"I will find out what they are up to," Sayyed said confidently.
The three men exchanged looks, ignoring Radih, who was growing more agitated by the second. Badredeen spoke for the group. Turning to Radih he said, "Please transfer your hostage to Sayyed as soon as is possible."
"That means tonight," Sayyed said, not wanting to give the man an inch.
"That is impossible," Radih said, as if they were asking him to fly to the moon. "This man is too valuable. I am more than capable of finding out his true identity." With a casual flip of his hand he said, "I will give all of you a report within a few days."
"That will not work." Sayyed held his ground. "I want him tonight."
"I will not give him to you. He is my prisoner."
Mughniyah leaned forward in his chair and glared at the representative from Fatah. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. "I don't remember your seeking our permission to conduct this operation in the first place."
"And when was the last time any of you came to me to ask permission to launch an operation?"
With an icy voice Mughniyah said, "I do not need your permission."
"That hardly seems fair."
"You are invited to these meetings as a courtesy ... nothing else."
"The rest of you have taken hostages for years and have profited greatly while the rockets of retaliation rained down on my people and I did not complain to you. Now all I am asking is that I be allowed to share in the spoils of war. You have not allowed me to partner on any of your other business ventures, so I must take what is rightfully mine." With a look of sadness he added, "I have given nothing but loyalty and this his how you treat me."
Mughniyah threw his arms up in frustration. He looked at Badredeen and Jalil. "Talk some sense into him before I shoot him."
