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Abel regarded the question cautiously. “In my line of work, we try not to get to know each other too well.”
The prince stared off in the distance for a moment. “There is much at stake here. I cannot be associated with any of this, and neither can you. You are far too valuable to me.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I would like you to make sure there is no way you can be linked to any of this. If this man you have hired succeeds, there will be some very upset, very powerful people…and they will want to find out who was behind it.”
Abel considered himself an expert at risk assessment. “The man who your friend wants killed…he has many enemies. Without any hard evidence the U.S. will have a very hard time tracking down who was behind this.”
“And if they get evidence, if this man you have hired makes a mistake, or even worse, if he fails and gets captured…”
“There are no guarantees, Prince Muhammad. All of that is possible, but unlikely. The man I have hired is very good. The odds are in our favor that he will succeed, and no one will ever link him to us.” Abel noticed the doubtful look in Rashid’s eyes. In an effort to further assure him he said, “I have covered my tracks. Even if my man fails it would be exceptionally difficult for them to trace it back to me.”
“I do not share your confidence.”
Abel exhaled a tired sigh. He did not know what else to say.
“If the man you have hired is captured, the U.S. authorities will find out it was you who hired him.”
“The man has no idea who I am, other than a vague description of me and an alias I used.” Abel could tell where this was going and felt it necessary to lie to the prince.
“The U.S. has gotten much better with their interrogation techniques. I assume this man has a way of contacting you.”
Abel nodded.
“All they need is a phone number, an e-mail address. You have paid the man, undoubtedly through electronic transfer?”
“Yes.”
“They will get it out of him and they will trace the money all the way back to Abdullah.”
Abel disagreed. “I used a network of banks that are known for honoring the confidentiality of their clients. Even with the new terrorist banking laws I am protected.”
A cynical smile formed on Rashid’s lips. “I have heard rumors. The U.S. no longer bothers going through the Swiss courts. They simply hack into the banking networks and get the information they need. They come and go with impunity and the banks never even know they are there.”
“With all due respect, Prince Muhammad, those rumors are grossly exaggerated.”
“You have your sources, and I have mine,” the prince said with a mischievous smile.
They were at a stalemate. Abel did not know what else he could say to assuage the prince’s concerns so he gave in to the inevitable. “What would you like me to do?”
“I want you to cover your tracks.”
“I told you…I have already done that.”
Prince Muhammad looked at the German with the stern look of a wise father who had grown tired of debating a point. “I will say this only once more. I want you to make sure there is no possible way for the Americans to trace any of this back to you or Abdullah.”
Abel looked away from the prince and let his eyes settle on the shimmering surface of the ridiculous camel-shaped pool. He knew all too well that Prince Muhammad really meant he didn’t want the Americans tracing any of this back to him. Abel was in a tough position. If he continued to resist the prince on this issue he might find himself at the bottom of the camel-shaped pool staring up at the surface with a couple of lungs filled with heavily chlorinated water. There was no other option at the moment other than submitting. Once out of Saudi Arabia he would have to sort things out. For now he would have to make the best of a bad situation.
He looked back at the prince. “It can be done, but it will not be cheap.”
“How much?”
The truth was, he was not so sure it could be done, but Rashid would not be satisfied with that answer. He had no idea who the man was, and there was so little to go on where the girl was concerned. Add to that the explicit warning from the assassin that he would kill him in a second if he caught him trying to find out who they were. Maybe Petrov knew more about them. Maybe he could bribe the old communist into setting them up. Abel thought about what that would take and said, “Five million…maybe more.”
Rashid looked at him with his best poker face. Unlike Abdullah, whose judgment was clouded by the murder of his son, Rashid was not going to simply open the vault and hand him over a mound of cash. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“No.”
