Nelson Demille - [John Corey 2]

by Lions Game(Lit)

  But what if the gas station had been filled with people?

  Khalil glanced at his image one more time, and it suddenly came to him that there was no photograph of him smiling. He had to smile. They had told him that several times in Tripoli. Smile. He smiled into the mirror and was astonished at how different he looked, even to himself. He smiled again, then flipped the visor back.

  He continued driving and continued to think about his photograph on television. Perhaps that would not be a problem.

  They had also told him in Tripoli that, for some reason, the Americans placed the photographs of fugitive criminals in all post offices. He didn't know why the Americans chose post offices to display the photographs of fugitives, but he had no business in post offices, so it was of no concern.

  He thought, too, that if he and his intelligence officers had reasoned and planned correctly, then the Americans believed that Asad Khalil had flown out of the country, directly from the airport in New York. There had been much debate about this. The Russian, Boris, had said, "It doesn't matter what they think. The FBI and local police will be looking for you in America, and the CIA and their foreign colleagues will be looking for you in the rest of the world. So, we must create the illusion that you are back in Europe."

  Khalil nodded to himself. Boris understood the game of intrigue very well. He had played this game with the Americans for over twenty years. But Boris once had unlimited resources for his game, and Libya did not. Still, they agreed with him and had created another Asad Khalil, who would commit some act of terrorism somewhere in Europe, probably in the next day or two. This might or might not fool the Americans.

  Malik had said, "The American Intelligence people of my generation were incredibly naive and unsophisticated. But they have been engaged in the world long enough to have developed the cynicism of an Arab and the sophistication of a European and the duplicity of an Oriental. Also, they have developed very advanced technology of their own. We should not underestimate them, but neither should we overestimate them. They can be fooled, but they can also pretend they are being fooled. So, yes, we can create another Asad Khalil in Europe for a week or so, and they will pretend to be looking for him there, while all the time they know he's still in America. The real Asad Khalil should not count on anything except himself. We will do what we can to cause a distraction, but you, Asad, should live every moment in America as though they are five minutes behind you."

  Asad Khalil thought of both Boris and Malik, two very different men. Malik did what he did out of his love for God, for Islam, for his country, and for the Great Leader, not to mention a hate for the West. Boris worked for money and did not especially hate the Americans or the West. Also, Boris had no God, no leader, and, in reality, no country. Malik had once described Boris as pitiable, but Asad thought of him as pitiful. Yet, Boris himself seemed happy enough, neither bitter nor defeated. He once said, "Russia will rise again. It is inevitable."

  In any case, these two very different men worked well together, and each had taught him something that the other barely comprehended. Asad preferred Malik, of course, but Boris could be counted on to tell the entire truth. In fact, Boris had told him privately, "Your Great Leader doesn't want another American bomb falling on his tent, so don't expect much help if you're caught. If you make it back here, you'll be treated well. But if it appears that you're trapped in America and can't get out, the next Libyan you see will be your executioner."

  Khalil reflected on that, but dismissed it as old-line Soviet thinking. The Islamic fighters neither betrayed nor abandoned one another. God would not be pleased with that.

  Khalil turned his attention back to the road. This was a big country, and because it was so big and diverse, it was easy to hide or to blend in, whichever one needed to do at the moment. But its size was also a problem, and unlike Europe, there were not many borders one could cross to escape. Libya was a long way from here. Also, Khalil hadn't fully realized that the English he understood was not the English spoken here in the South. But he recalled that Boris had mentioned this and told him that Florida English was closer to what Khalil could understand.

  He again thought about Lieutenant Paul Grey, and recalled the photograph of the man's house, a very nice villa with palm trees. He thought, too, of General Waycliff's house. These two murderers had gone home and lived good lives with wives and children, after destroying the life of Asad Khalil without a passing thought. If, indeed, there was a hell, then Asad Khalil knew the names of three of its inhabitants—Lieutenant Steven Cox, killed in the Gulf, and Colonel William Hambrecht and General Terrance Waycliff, killed by Asad Khalil. If they were speaking to one another now, the last two could discuss with the first how they died, and they could all wonder who would be the next of their squadron mates that Asad Khalil would choose to join them.

  Khalil said aloud, "Be patient, gentlemen, you will know soon enough. And soon after, you will all be reunited again."

  CHAPTER 32

  The break was over, and we returned to our briefing room. Jim and Jane were gone, and in their place was an Arab-looking gentleman. I thought at first that this guy had gotten lost on his way to a mosque or something, or maybe he'd kidnapped Jim and Jane and was holding them hostage. Before I could put a choke hold on the intruder, he smiled and introduced himself as Abbah Ibin Abdellah, which he was nice enough to write on the chalkboard. At least his name wasn't Bob, Bill, or Jim. He did say, however, "Call me Ben," which fit in with the diminutive-naming system here.

  Mr. Abdellah—Ben—wore a too-heavy tweed suit, not blue, and one of those checkered racing flags on his head. This was my first clue that he might not be from around here.

  Ben sat with us and smiled again. He was about fifty, a little tubby, wore a beard, eyeglasses, thinning hair, good choppers, and smelled okay. Three demerits for that one, Detective Corey.

  There was and there wasn't a little awkwardness in the room. I mean, Jack, Kate, Ted, and I were sophisticated, worldly, and all that. We'd all worked and socialized with Mideast types, but for some reason this afternoon there was a little tension in the air.

  Ben began by saying, "What a terrible tragedy."

  No one replied, and he continued, "I am a Special Contract Agent for the Bureau."

  This meant that, like me, he was hired for some specialty, and I guessed it wasn't fashion consultant. At least he wasn't a lawyer.

  He said, "The Deputy Director thought it might be a good idea if I made myself available to you."

  Koenig asked, "Available for what?"

  Mr. Abdellah looked at Koenig and replied, "I am a professor of Mideast political studies at George Washington University. My specialized area is the study of various groups who have an extremist agenda."

  "Terrorist groups," Koenig prompted.

  "Yes. For want of a better word."

  I said helpfully, "How about psychotics and murderers? Those are better words."

  Professor Abdellah looked cool, like he'd been through this before. He was well spoken, looked intelligent, and had a quiet manner about him. Nothing that happened yesterday was his fault, of course. But Ibin Abdellah had a tough job this afternoon.

  He continued, "I myself am an Egyptian, but I have a good understanding of the Libyans. They're an interesting people, descended in part from the ancient Carthaginians. Afterward came the Romans, who added their bloodlines, and there have always been Egyptians in Libya. Following the Romans came the Vandals from Spain, who in turn were conquered by the Byzantines, who were conquered by the Arab people from the Arabian Peninsula, who brought the Islamic religion with them. The Libyans consider themselves Arab, but Libya has always had such a small population that every invading group has left their genes behind."

  I misunderstood at first and thought he said "jeans," but then I got it.

  Professor Abdellah got us up and running on Libyans, gave us some insights into Libyan culture, customs, and so forth. He had a whole bunch of handouts, including a glossary of words t
hat were uniquely Libyan in case we cared, plus a glossary of Libyan cooking, which I didn't think I'd stick up in my kitchen. He said, "The Libyans love pasta. That's the result of the Italian occupation."

  I loved pasta, too, so maybe I'd bump into Asad Khalil in Giulio's. Maybe not.

  We received from the professor a short biography of Moammar Gadhafi and an online printout of a few Encyclopedia Britannica pages on Libya. He also presented us with a lot of pamphlets on Islamic culture and religion.

  Professor Abdellah said to us, "Muslims, Christians, and Jews all trace their origins to the prophet and patriarch Abraham. The Prophet Muhammad is descended from Abraham's oldest son, Ishmael, and Moses and Jesus are descended from Isaac," he informed us, and added, "Peace be upon them all."

  I mean, I didn't know whether to make the sign of the cross, face Mecca, or call my friend Jack Weinstein.

  Ben went on about Jesus, Moses, Mary, the Archangel Gabriel, Muhammad, Allah, and so on. These guys all knew and liked each other. Incredible. This was interesting, but it wasn't getting me an inch closer to Asad Khalil.

  Mr. Abdellah addressed Kate and said, "Contrary to popular myth, Islam actually elevates the status of women. Muslims do not blame women for violating the Forbidden Tree, as Christians and Jews do. Nor is their suffering in pregnancy and childbirth a punishment for that act."

  Kate replied, coolly, "That's certainly an enlightened concept."

  Undeterred by the Ice Queen, Ben continued, "Women who marry under Islamic law may keep their own family name. They may own property and dispose of property."

  Sounds like my ex. Maybe she was a Muslim.

  Ben said, "Regarding the veiling of women, this is a cultural practice in some countries, but does not reflect the teaching of Islam."

  Kate inquired, "What about the stoning to death of women caught in adultery?"

  "Also a cultural practice in some Muslim countries, but not in most."

  I looked at my pamphlets to see if those countries were listed. I mean, what if Kate and I got sent to Jordan or someplace, and we got caught doing the dirty deed in our hotel? Would I be traveling home alone? But I couldn't find a list, and I thought it best not to ask Professor Abdellah for one.

  Anyway, Ben prattled on a bit, and he was a very nice man, very polite, very knowledgeable, and really sincere. Nevertheless, I had the feeling I'd stepped through one of those two-way mirrors. And this was all being recorded and maybe videotaped by the boys in blue. This place was totally nuts.

  I mean, I guess there was a reason for this lesson in Islam 101, but maybe we could accomplish the mission without being so sensitive to the other side. I tried to picture a scene before the D-Day invasion, and some paratrooper general is saying to his troops, "Okay, men, tomorrow's reading will be Goethe and Schiller. And don't forget tomorrow night will be a Wagner concert at Hangar Twelve. This is mandatory. The mess hall is serving sauerbraten tonight. Guten appetit."

  Yeah, right.

  Professor Abdellah said to us, "To catch this man, Asad Khalil, it would be helpful to understand him. Start first with his name—Asad. The Lion. An Islamic given name is not only a convention, it is also a defmiens of the person—it defines the bearer of the name, though it may do so only partially. Many men and women from Islamic countries try to emulate their namesakes."

  "So," I suggested, "we should start by looking around zoos."

  Ben thought this was funny and chuckled. He went along with the joke and said, "Look for a man who likes to kill zebras." He looked into my eyes and said, "A man who likes to kill."

  No one said anything, and Ben continued. "The Libyans are an isolated people, a nation isolated even from other Islamic countries. Their leader, Moammar Gadhafi, has assumed almost mystical powers in the minds of many Libyans. If Asad Khalil is working directly for Libyan Intelligence, then he is working directly for Moammar Gadhafi. He has been given a sacred mission, and he will pursue that mission with religious zeal."

  Ben let that sink in, then continued, "The Palestinians, by contrast, are more sophisticated, more worldly. They are clever, they have a political agenda, and their main enemy is Israel. The Iraqis as well as the Iranians have become distrustful of their leaders. The Libyans, on the other hand, idolize Gadhafi, and they do what he says, though Gadhafi has changed courses and changed enemies often. In fact, if this is a Libyan operation, there seems to be no specific reason for it. Aside from making anti-American statements, Gadhafi has not been very active in the extremist movement since the American bombing of Libya, and Libya's retaliation, which was the bombing of Pan Am Flight One-Oh-Three over Lockerbie, Scotland, in nineteen eighty-eight." Ben added, "In other words, Gadhafi considers his blood feud with the U.S. as finished. His honor has been satisfied, the bombing of Libya, which caused the death of his adopted daughter, is avenged. I can't conceive of why he would want to renew this feud."

  No one offered any reasons, and Ben said, "However, the Libyans have an expression, much like the French expression, which says, 'Revenge tastes better served on a cold plate.' You understand?"

  I guess we did, and Ben went on, "So, perhaps Gadhafi does not consider some old feud fully settled. Look for Gadhafi's reason to send Khalil to America, and you might discover why Khalil did what he did, and whether or not the feud is over."

  Kate said, "The feud has just begun."

  Professor Abdellah shook his head. "It began long ago. A blood feud is only over when the last man is standing."

  I guess this meant I had job security until I got whacked. I said to Ben, "Maybe it's Khalil's feud, and not Gadhafi's."

  He shrugged. "Who knows? Find the man, and he will be happy to tell you. Even if you don't find him, he will eventually tell you why he did what he did. It's important to Khalil that you know."

  Professor Abdellah stood and gave each of us his card. He said, "If I may be of any further assistance, please don't hesitate to call me. I can fly to New York if you wish."

  Jack Koenig stood also and said, "We have people in New York—such as yourself—whom we rely on for background and cultural information. But we thank you for your time and your expertise."

  Professor Abdellah collected his odds and ends and moved toward the door. He informed us, "I hold a high-security clearance. You should not hesitate to confer with me." He left.

  None of us spoke for a minute or so. This was partly because the room was bugged, but partly because the session with Ibin—call me Ben—Abdellah was bizarre..

  Indeed, the world was changing, the country was changing. America was not and had never been a country of one race, one religion, one culture. The glue that held us together was to some extent language, but even that was a little shaky. Also, we shared a central belief in law and justice, political freedom and religious tolerance. Someone like Abbah Ibin Abdellah was either a loyal and patriotic American and valuable special agent, or he was a security risk. He was almost undoubtedly the former. But that one percent doubt, like in a marriage, gets bigger in your imagination. You should not hesitate to confer with me.

  Jim and Jane returned, and I was happy to see they hadn't been kidnapped by Ben. They were now joined by another boy and girl whose names were Bob and Jean, or something close to that.

  This session was called "What's next?"

  This was more of a brainstorming session, which is better than a blamestorm, and we were all invited to share and contribute. We discussed Khalil's next move, and I was pleased to discover that my theory was getting some play.

  Bob summed it up with, "We think that Asad Khalil's alleged terrorist acts in Europe were a prelude to his coming to America. Notice that only American and British targets were involved in Europe. Notice, too, that there were never any demands issued, no notes left, no calls to the news media before or after an attack, and no credit taken by Khalil or by any organization. All we have is a string of attacks on people and places that are American or, in one case, British. This would seem to fit the profile of a man who has a p
rivate and personal grudge, as opposed to a political or religious mission or agenda, which he wants to publicize."

  Bob did a whole profile thing on Khalil, comparing and contrasting him to a few American mad-bomber types in the past who had a grudge against their old employer or against technology or people who screwed up the environment, and so forth. Bob said, "In the perpetrator's mind, he is not evil, he is an instrument for justice. What he's doing, he thinks, is morally correct and justified."

  Bob went on, "As for Asad Khalil, we didn't show you all the photos of him in the guest room at the embassy, but there are photos of him on the floor, praying toward Mecca. So, we have a man here who is religious, but conveniently forgets the parts of his religion that prohibit the killing of innocent people. In fact, Asad Khalil most probably has convinced himself that he is on a Jihad, a holy war, and that the ends justify the means."

  Bob made the April 15 anniversary connection to the American air raid on Libya, and said, "For this reason, if for no other reason, we believe that Asad Khalil is Libyan, working for or with the Libyans. But be advised that the World Trade Center bombing happened on the second anniversary date of when U.S. forces ousted Iraqi forces from Kuwait City. And the perpetrators of this bombing were almost all non-Iraqi. In fact, most of them were Palestinians. So, you have to consider Pan-Arabism in these cases. The Arab nations have a lot of differences among themselves, but what keeps the extremists in each country united is their hatred for America, and for Israel. The date of April fifteen is a clue to who was behind yesterday's attack, but it is not proof."

  True enough. But if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then odds are it's a duck, not a seagull. But you had to keep an open mind.