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“Details?”
“There’s someone I want to talk to.”
“Can I assume that he doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“Safe assumption.”
“But your government doesn’t agree about the importance of you meeting with this person.”
“Fair to say.”
“Not a personal vendetta, though. That would be something you’d handle yourself.”
“I’m looking forward to the conversation,” Rapp said honestly. “But the goal here isn’t personal satisfaction.”
“I’m intrigued. Payment?”
Rapp shrugged. “I can offer you a lot of money, but the most expensive thing you bought in the last six months was a new board.”
Azarov’s brow furrowed, considering the issue. “U.S. citizenship?”
“Sure. But it’d be easier to just make Cara an honest woman and get it that way. Besides, you live in Costa Rica. Why pay the taxes?”
“True, but I think we would agree that someone with my skill set shouldn’t be expected to work for free.”
Rapp pulled out his wallet, extracted a single dollar, and laid it on the table. The Russian stared at it for a few seconds, finally reaching out and stuffing it in his pocket. “But you’re picking up the dinner bill.”
CHAPTER 21
Riyadh
Saudi Arabia
THE phone on Aali Nassar’s desk buzzed and he snatched it up. “Yes?”
“Aali, how are you?” King Faisal said. “Are you all right?”
Nassar let out a relieved breath. Perhaps premature, but at least the waiting was over. He’d called the palace multiple times since his return to Riyadh only to be told that the king was indisposed. Generally these periodic breaks in communication were the result of the man’s failing health, but that had now become a dangerous assumption. Had Faisal been avoiding calls because he’d heard about the disastrous meeting with President Alexander? Had he been made aware of the Americans’ suspicions regarding Talal bin Musaid?
“I’m well, Your Majesty. And you?”
“Me? Let’s not speak of me. I’m told that you suffered serious injuries defending yourself against those cowards in Mauritania.”
“I assure you that the reports have been wildly exaggerated.”
In fact, they had been entirely fabricated. The story was that Nassar had been drawn personally into a desperate fight with the terrorists. Accounts of his heroics were beginning to cross the line into the improbable, but no one had any reason to question them.
“Exaggerated? Modesty doesn’t suit you, Aali. The terrorists themselves are corroborating accounts of your actions.”
Mullah Halabi’s doing, of course. The fact that the ISIS leader was already using his influence to increase Nassar’s stature in Saudi Arabia was an encouraging sign.
“I did only what was necessary, Your Highness.”
The king laughed. “Well, Aali, if this is too trivial a matter for you to discuss, why don’t you tell me about your meeting with the president?”
Nassar actually smiled at that. The old man hadn’t heard. Perhaps Nassar’s initial analysis had been correct. President Alexander was indeed too spineless to pursue the matter.
“It turned out to be much more difficult even than the attack, Majesty.”
