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"The prisoner," Sayyed said, "has been kicked and brutalized by your men and due to the lack of sanitary conditions from your men defecating all over the basement like a pack of wild dogs, it appears the prisoner is now ill."
Badredeen made a foul face and said, "Really ... you should institute some basic hygiene. At least have the men go on the roof. The sun will take care of it for you."
"Do want to walk up seven flights of stairs to go to the bathroom?" Radih asked.
"Enough," yelled an impatient Mughniyah. He looked from one end of the table to the other, making it clear to all that he was not in the mood for petty arguments. "Someone has stolen millions of dollars from us and you want to argue about where the men should shit?"
"I was only--"
"Silence!" Mughniyah screeched. With his fists clenched he turned on Radih. "I am sick of it ... all of the complaining and fighting, the bickering, and for what ... it gets us nowhere. Millions are gone, Sharif is dead, our banker is dead, and that vulture Ivanov is now talking about coming to Beirut for the first time in years. Am I the only one who finds this a bit disconcerting?"
"He told me he had nothing to do with Sharif's murder," Sayyed offered.
"And since when do you believe anything that comes out of a Russian's mouth?"
"I have no trust in the man, but on this point, he did seem to be upset that someone had killed Sharif."
"Maybe someone else did kill Sharif, and that was when Ivanov decided that with our Turkish friend gone it was the perfect time to take all of the money."
Sayyed considered that one for a moment. It was possible. Ivanov had proven many times that he could be ruthless.
"Add to that these damn Christians deciding to make a show of strength." Mughniyah gave a swift shake of his head. "I like none of it. Something is very wrong and we know far too little."
"Why would Ivanov want to visit Beirut?" Badredeen asked.
"Land."
All eyes fell on Colonel Jalil of the Iranian Quds Force. "Explain," Mughniyah ordered.
"There is a great deal of valuable land here in Beirut, and many are saying that with war finally behind us, there are huge sums of money to be made."
"Why can't these people leave us alone?" Mughniyah asked no one in particular.
"What about the Americans?" Radih asked. "We have one of their agents in this very building."
"Who was sent here to negotiate the release of the businessman you kidnapped." Sayyed's tone suggested what he thought of the idea.
"That is the story he has given you."
Sayyed turned his head to look at Radih. "You doubt my ability to get the truth out of people?"
"None of us are perfect."
"So you think the American is holding back on us? That his coming here is all part of a master plan by the Americans to take over Beirut?"
"I did not say that."
"You did, in so many words." Looking back toward the leaders of Islamic Jihad, he said, "We do not have enough information to know what is actually happening. It could be anyone at this point, but based on what we do know, we have to assume that Ivanov is the front runner."
"So what should we do?" Badredeen asked.
Sayyed thought about it for a moment and then said, "Let him come to Beirut. Keep our eyes and ears open and see what we can find out."
Mughniyah was scratching his beard thinking about what had been said. "Beirut is our fortress. Spread the word to our people at the docks and the airport. I want to know of anything that looks suspicious. Americans, Russians, Jews ... I don't care."
"And we should alert our allies," the Iranian said. "Everyone should be extra careful until we know exactly what is going on."
"I agree," Mughniyah said. "Quietly spread the word to our people in Europe. Especially anyone who has a connection to Sharif. Let them know of our concerns ... that someone might be targeting us."
