“Oh my God,” said Sarah.
Goldberg cleared his throat. “My name is Richard Aaron Goldberg. Eleven days ago my team simultaneously detonated three nuclear weapons. One destroyed New York City. Another destroyed Washington, D.C., and the third left the city of Mecca a radioactive death trap. Our intention…” He placed a hand on his shaking knee. “The plan was for radical Islamists to be blamed. To drive a wedge between the West and Muslims, and to create chaos within the Muslim world itself.” A trickle of sweat rolled down the side of his face. “I think…I believe we would have succeeded had it not been for some bad luck.” He lifted his chin slightly. “My name is Richard Aaron Goldberg. My team and I are part of a secret unit of the Mossad.”
The sound of clapping. “Better. I particularly liked the sweat bead. Now, do it again.”
The screen went gray. No one spoke for a long time. The storefront above them creaked and groaned.
“Was what we just saw…was it real?” Rakkim asked finally.
“It’s real,” said Katherine. “My husband gave it to me the night before he was murdered. The download was hidden in a strand of prayer beads.”
“Things like that can be faked,” said Rakkim.
“Anything can be faked, but that was the FBI’s master interrogator walking Goldberg through the confession,” said Spider. “Lorne Macmillan, one of your glorious heroes of the new Islamic Republic.”
Sarah stared at the blank laptop screen. “It’s like…it’s like seeing Jack Ruby standing around with Oswald, the two of them rehearsing their encounter in the Dallas garage.” She shook her head. “‘I’ll step out of the crowd of photographers, Lee, and you’ll stop and act surprised—’”
“Who’s Jack Ruby?” said Rakkim.
Spider moved closer to the surveillance unit. “Don’t like that white car.” He waited. “No…never mind, it turned off onto Madison.” He kept watch.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Sarah demanded.
“I…I couldn’t,” said Katherine, coloring. “I was afraid something might happen to you and—”
“You didn’t trust me,” said Sarah.
“Your father always said it was best not to let the right hand know what the left hand is doing,” said Katherine. “He didn’t even tell Redbeard.”
“You didn’t trust me,” repeated Sarah.
“You can hate me later,” snapped Katherine. “Right now, we need to show Redbeard a copy of this. How did you put it, Benjamin?”
“Speed and distribution,” said Spider. “We got to get the message to as many people as possible, as fast as possible. Otherwise the official disinformation will drown us out. I thought about hacking some of the major net sites like whatdoido-imam.com or faithful-jobsearch.com, but I can’t do it on my own. Redbeard can help us bypass some of the crash triggers, and I’m not even sure those are the best places for us. We really need to go international with this.”
“I don’t know if I could ask Redbeard to do that,” said Sarah, unsteady and still angry. She had been prepared intellectually for the truth about the Zionist Betrayal, but to actually see it…Perhaps she was a littler raw from meeting her mother after all these years. “He knows what could happen if this…grotesque bit of history got out.”
“I’m not asking you to do it, dear.” Katherine was all hard edges and determination. “I’ll ask Thomas.”
CHAPTER 59
Before noon prayers
“The prodigal returns,” said Stevens, the pockmarked dandy who had fetched Rakkim from the Blue Moon after the Super Bowl. It seemed years ago. Stevens’s hair was glossy and sleek, his suit perfectly tailored. His shoes gave him another two inches of height. His eyes had the glimmer of a man with secrets. “You don’t look so happy to see me, Fedayeen.”
“Just surprised.”
Stevens wanded him, rapping him sharply between the legs. “Sorry. Have to make sure you’re not carrying something dangerous in your privates. I guess there’s nothing there.”
The guards who had brought Rakkim to Stevens laughed, then went back to watching Sarah and Katherine being checked by a female security officer. Katherine was cloaked in a black burka, only her eyes visible through the eye slits.
Rakkim kept quiet as Stevens continued his rough patdown. Security at the villa had always been layered, but this was hermetic. They had already gone through two security screenings—testing for biologicals, electronic devices, and explosives. The download of Richard Aaron Goldberg’s confession rehearsal was inert and set off no alarms.
“It’s good you’re back,” Stevens said. “Redbeard has enough on his shoulders.”
“Since when does Redbeard confide in you?” said Rakkim, still aching from the wand.
An alarm went off, the guard checking Sarah stepping back.
Rakkim stared at the blinking bioscanner and silently cursed himself for his lapse in judgment. The Old One hadn’t implanted a tracking device in him, he had implanted one in Sarah while she slept, a biochip undetectable by her wrist alarm or the first two layers of the villa’s security system. No wonder they had been allowed to escape from Las Vegas. Floating above the desert like a soap bubble…a pinprick away from a hard landing.
While a technician neutralized the pinhead-size chip from behind her ear, Rakkim called Spider, warned him and Elroy to stay away from the barbershop. Then he called Peter and Jeri Lynn and Professor Wu. Peter answered from the casino. Said he appreciated the call and quickly hung up. Jeri Lynn said she had wanted to warn them, but she had no way of getting in touch. Said Darwin had awakened her from a sound sleep, sitting on her bed, bouncing her youngest daughter on his hip. Jeri Lynn’s voice quavered, wondering how he could have known this was her favorite child. She had told Darwin everything she knew, and he had left as suddenly as he’d appeared. No answer from Professor Wu.
Sarah walked over as he put away his cell. “Our body doubles…they were followed from the mall. Their car was tracked all the way into Arizona. Why?”
“To convince us we had outsmarted him. The Old One needed us then to find any loose ends he might have missed. Like the medallion.”
“He thought we were more useful than dangerous. That’s why he didn’t kill us.” Sarah scratched behind her ear. Caught herself, disgusted. “He knows better now, doesn’t he?”
“He knows about the medallion, but not about the confession download. That’s our great advantage.”
The doors to the inner area of the villa hissed open. Unequal air pressure prevented biological or gas attacks. Redbeard stood waiting inside, his expression grim. He was dressed more stylishly than usual in an unbelted white tunic and trousers, embroidered slippers on his bare feet. Rakkim would have been happier to see Angelina, but she was probably preparing a feast. No cooking smells though. Sarah, Rakkim, and Katherine walked inside. Stevens started to follow, but with a subtle hand gesture Redbeard ordered him to stay. The doors slid shut behind them again. “Thank you for bringing Sarah back,” Redbeard said to Rakkim. “Perhaps next time you could simply leave a trail of bread crumbs for the Old One.”
“I see you’ve put Stevens in charge of security,” gritted Rakkim. “Has he gotten his own room at the villa yet?”
“I’m sorry, Uncle,” interrupted Sarah. “I know I’ve disappointed you, but I had to—”
Redbeard embraced her. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He looked at Katherine as he clung to her. “Who is this devout woman you’ve brought into our home?” He froze as Katherine pulled off her head covering, but there was no surprise in his eyes. Rakkim saw something else. “Welcome…welcome home.”
“It’s good to see you, Thomas.” Katherine inclined her head. “I made some mistakes.”
“So did I,” said Redbeard.
Sarah looked at Rakkim. He raised an eyebrow.
“We need your help,” said Katherine.
“We can talk in my office.” Redbeard led the way, glancing at Sarah. “Did you find what you wer
e looking for?”
“I’m not sure,” said Sarah. “That’s not why we’re here. Katherine is the one with the real treasure. She took a very great risk coming here, but you know that.”
“I never gave up looking for you,” Redbeard said to Katherine, the two of them side by side now. “If you only knew how much I—”
“I should have contacted you after I realized…” Katherine hesitated.
“After you realized I didn’t murder my brother,” finished Redbeard.
Katherine nodded.
“I don’t blame you,” said Redbeard. “James told me he had come into possession of something very dangerous. A danger to him and a danger to the country. James loved me, but he wouldn’t tell me what he had. Not yet, that’s what he said. Soon, Thomas.” His eyes shimmered. “Ten minutes later, he was dying in my arms. No, you did what James would have wanted you to do. Keep the secret safe. Trust no one.”
“It wasn’t just that,” said Katherine. “I didn’t…trust myself.”
Rakkim stared. He had never seen Redbeard blush.
Redbeard opened the door to his office, ushered them inside.
“Where’s Angelina?” said Sarah. “I keep waiting for her to appear, pretending to be angry, telling me what a disobedient child I’ve been.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing her too, Thomas,” said Katherine. “She knows how grateful I am to her, but I want to tell her in person.”
“Is she still at mosque?” said Sarah. “She should be back…What’s wrong, Uncle?”
The screen flickered and went blank as the flashload finished. They had watched the eighty-three-second rehearsal three times. No one had said a word. The only sound was Sarah curled on the couch, sniffling about Angelina while Katherine patted her back. Rakkim tried to focus on Redbeard, tried to gauge his reactions as he watched the wall screen.
Rakkim could still feel Sarah’s sobs reverberating in his chest. He had held her after Redbeard had given them the news, held her and let her do the weeping for the both of them. He had been nine years old when Redbeard had brought him home. Angelina had raised him, or come as close as anyone could to accomplishing that. He missed her already. Missed the clean smell of her, the imported soap that was her one extravagance. Someday he would go to mosque and pray for her. She who needed no prayers to guide her into Paradise. He would pray for her anyway. In hope that she would someday intercede on his behalf. Could even Allah himself refuse her?
“It’s real, Thomas,” said Katherine, breaking the silence.
“I never believed that Macmillan slipped in the shower and broke his neck. ‘The hero who broke the Zionist ring,’ that’s what they called him. The nation was in mourning for a week. James and I were part of the honor guard at his funeral.” Redbeard stared at the blank wall. “I’m glad you’re here…but, I wish you had not brought this with you.”
“We need to get this out.” Sarah swiped at her eyes. “We need your help to flashload it everywhere, before it can be discredited. People have to see it with their own eyes, hear it with their own ears, before the media twist it.”
Redbeard removed the flashload, tossed it to Rakkim. “I’m not going to help you destroy the country. I took an oath to protect it. So did you.”
“The country was built on a lie,” said Rakkim.
“What country wasn’t?” Redbeard’s eyes were icy. “Tell him, Sarah. You’re the historian. Tell him about the former regime.”
“I know they didn’t burn fornicators and witches,” said Sarah. “They didn’t stone girls to death for running away from husbands. They didn’t cut off the hands of thieves—”
Redbeard snatched Rakkim’s hand. “He kept his hand.” Rakkim took his hand back. “The law is hard, but there is room for mercy. Don’t tell me about the old days, girl, I lived through them. Drugs sold on street corners. Guns everywhere. God driven out of the schools and courthouses. Births without marriage, rich and poor, so many bastards you wouldn’t believe me. A country without shame. Alcohol sold in supermarkets. Babies killed in the womb, tens of millions of them. I was a Catholic then. There were politicians who voted to allow this and took Holy Communion afterwards. Do you know what Communion is? These politicians knelt for Communion and there was no shortage of priests eager to place the host upon their tongues.” Redbeard shook his head. “We are not perfect, not by any measure, but I would not go back to those days for anything.”
“They weren’t afraid,” said Sarah. “Look at the old videos, the movies…they weren’t afraid. Look around you, Uncle, go out on the streets—people are scared. Afraid they’re going to do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, think the wrong thing. Yes, the Americans were drunk on freedom. Yes, they lacked shame, but they did glorious things too with that freedom. Breakthroughs in science and medicine. Inquiries into the mysteries of the universe. Wonderful things. Noble—”
“You both are missing the point,” said Rakkim.
Katherine stared at the ground-zero photographs of New York, Washington, D.C., and Mecca that dominated the office.
“James must have felt the same way I do,” Redbeard said to Katherine. “He had the flashload, but he gave it to you for safekeeping. He didn’t even trust the president with it. Not until he was sure they had a common strategy. James would have wanted to use the flashload to rein in the fundamentalists, but he would never have put it out for the world to see. He wanted to save the Muslim nature of the state. Just as I do.”
Rakkim put his hand on Redbeard. “It’s not about what system is better. It’s too late for that. The flashload is all we have now. I met the Old One. I talked with him. You can’t stop him anymore, and he knows it. The president is in failing health. Once he’s gone, the Old One will make his move. He has men in waiting to replace the president. Politicians, judges…he told me so. Men close enough in line that it wouldn’t even take a coup. A legitimate transfer of power…legitimate enough. That’s if the Old One doesn’t get tired of waiting and it’s the president this time who slips in the shower and breaks his neck.”
“His name is Hassan Muhammed,” snapped Redbeard. “He’s always been a liar.”
“I don’t think he was lying this time,” Rakkim said. “I met him in Las Vegas. He summoned me to the top floor of a huge office building, one of his vast properties. Just the two of us up there, the city spread out like a magic carpet.”
“Did he offer you a place of honor beside him? Did he offer a fat slice of the world?” Redbeard tugged at his beard. “I’m no mind reader. It’s always a wise strategy to appeal to a man’s vanity and greed. His only mistake was making the offer to the wrong man.”
Rakkim ignored the compliment. He could see the turmoil beneath Redbeard’s bravado. “The Old One talks of a tolerant caliphate, a weaving of the disparate strands of Islam, a harmony of believers. He even leaves room for Christians. He sounds as moderate as you, but, once he has control, do you trust him to maintain his tolerance? If he was willing to kill millions in the nuclear strikes, if he was willing to pollute Mecca itself with radioactivity…do you think there is anything he wouldn’t do to maintain power?”
“Rakkim is telling you the truth, Thomas,” said Katherine. “You know he is.”
Redbeard nodded and no one dared speak. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he said finally. “If we are to be crushed by the truth, so be it. Allah must be on the side of truth.”
“Thank you,” said Sarah.
“Don’t thank me,” said Redbeard. “I already have enough doubts. You start thanking me, I know I’ve made a mistake.” He narrowed his eyes at Rakkim. “What were you and Sarah doing at the Swiss Embassy Tuesday night? Stevens got there five minutes after the two of you disappeared. If I had said no to your request, were you planning to emigrate?”
Rakkim had sensed that he was being observed. He was relieved that it was one of Redbeard’s informants. “This is my country. I’m not leaving.”
“Good. We’ll all stay and fight then.”
Redbeard’s expression darkened. “We may get our chance sooner than we expect. Your friend Detective Colarusso had a visit from the Old One’s assassin. Colarusso wasn’t home and his son had the good sense to keep the security door locked, but you are right, things are coming to a head.”
“I’ll call Colarusso when we’re finished here,” said Rakkim.
“You don’t have to leave. Your rooms are just as you left them,” said Redbeard. “I hope you intend to stay with us, Katherine,” he said gently. “This is your home too.”
“I’d be honored,” said Katherine.
Redbeard pulled Rakkim close, and Rakkim smelled the fatigue on him. “I don’t see you for weeks, and almost the first thing you say to me is to ask if Stevens had a room at the villa. Haven’t I taught you anything? You let your pride speak instead of your wits. Rather than see Stevens as a rival, you would do well to look upon him as an ally. He was the one who retrieved Angelina’s body from the Black Robes. He was the one who walked into that nest of vipers alone and demanded that Ibn Azziz turn her over. From what I was told, the boy cleric’s bodyguards wanted to cut Stevens to pieces, but Stevens didn’t back down, and in the end Ibn Azziz gave him the location of the body. Ibn Azziz admitted nothing, of course, but we got her back in time for a proper burial.”
“I’m sorry, Uncle.”
Redbeard let him go, smacked his hands together. “Now, how can I help?”
Rakkim smiled. “Are you handling security for the Oscars?”
CHAPTER 60
Before sunset prayers
Rakkim strolled through the front doors of the Blue Moon, hoping to draw the attention of anyone looking for them and keep it away from Sarah. The crowds were light midweek, and he had taken his time on the walk from the monorail, stopping a few times to look into shop windows.
“Boss!” Albert came from behind the bar, beat him on the back. “Where you been?”
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