Jeffrey Archer - Honour Among Thieves

While Scott and Hannah carried the dead Kurd into the land of his people, Saddam’s soldiers dragged the body of the Jew back into Iraq.

“Why were my orders disobeyed?” Saddam shouted.

For several moments no one around the table spoke. They knew the chances of all of them returning to their beds alive that night had to be marginal.

General Hamil turned the cover of a thick file, and looked down at the handwritten note in front of him.

“Major Saeed was to blame, Mr. President,” stated the General. “It was he who allowed the infidels to escape with the Declaration, and that is why his body is now hanging in Tohrir Square for your people to witness.”

The General listened intently to the President’s next question.

“Yes, Sayedi,” he assured his master. “Two of the terrorists were killed by guards from my own regiment. They were by far the most important members of the team. They were the two who managed to escape from Major Saeed’s custody before I arrived. The other two were an American professor and the girl.”

The President asked another question.

“No, Mr. President. Kratz was the commanding officer, and I personally arrested the infamous Zionist leader before questioning him at length. It was during that interrogation that I discovered that the original plan had been to assassinate you, Sayedi, and I made certain that he, like those who came before him, failed.”

The General had no well-rehearsed answer to the President’s next question, and he was relieved when the State Prosecutor intervened.

“Perhaps we can turn this whole episode to our advantage, Sayedi.”

“How can that be possible,” shouted the President, “when two of them have escaped with the Declaration and left us with a useless copy that anyone who can spell ‘British’ will immediately realize is a fake? No, it is I who will be made the laughingstock of the world, not Clinton.”

Everyone’s eyes were now fixed on the Prosecutor.

“That may not necessarily be the case, Mr. President. I suspect that when the Americans see the state of their cherished treasure, they will not be in a hurry to put it back on display at the National Archives.”

The President did not interrupt this time, so the Prosecutor continued.

“We also know, Mr. President, that because of your genius, the parchment currently on display in Washington to an unsuspecting American public is, to quote you, ‘a useless copy that anyone who can spell “British” will immediately realize is a fake.’ ”

The President’s expression was now one of concentration.

“Perhaps the time has come, Sayedi, to inform the world’s press of your triumph.”

“My triumph?” said the President in disbelief.

“Why, yes, Sayedi. Your triumph, not to mention your magnanimity. After all, it was you who gave the order to hand over the battered Declaration to Professor Bradley after the gangster Cavalli had attempted to sell it to you.”

The President’s expression turned to one of deep thought.

“They have a saying in the West,” added the Prosecutor, “about killing two birds with one stone.”

Another long silence followed, during which no one offered an opinion until the President smiled.

The official statement issued by the Iraqi government on July 2nd was that there was no truth in the report that there had been a shooting incident on the border posts at Kirkuk in which several Iraqi soldiers had been killed and more wounded.

The Kurdish leaders were unable to offer any opinion on the subject, as the only two satellite phones in Iraqi Kurdistan had been permanently engaged with requests for assistance from the State Department in Washington.

When Charles Streator, the American Ambassador in Istanbul, was telephoned and asked by the Reuters Bureau Chief in the Middle East why a U.S. Air Force jet had landed at the American base in Silope on the Turkish border, and then returned to Washington with two unknown passengers as its cargo, His Excellency told his old friend that he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. The Bureau Chief considered the Ambassador to be an honest man, although he accepted that it was part of the job to lie for his country.

The Ambassador had in fact been up all night following a call from the Secretary of State requesting that one of their helicopters should be dispatched to the outskirts of Kirkuk to pick up five passengers, one American, one Arab and three Israelis, who were then to be flown back to the base at Silope.

The Ambassador had called Washington later that morning to inform Warren Christopher that unfortunately only two people had managed to cross the border alive: an American named Scott Bradley and an Israeli woman, Hannah Kopec. He had no information on the other three.

The American Ambassador was totally thrown by the Secretary of State’s final question. Did Professor Bradley have a cardboard tube with him? The Ambassador was only disappointed that the Reuters correspondent hadn’t asked him the same thing, because then he would have been telling him the truth when he said, “I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

Scott and Hannah slept for most of the flight back to the United States. When they stepped off the plane at Andrews Air Force Base they found Dexter Hutchins at the bottom of the steps waiting to greet them. Neither of them was surprised when customs showed little interest in Scott’s canvas bag. A CIA car whisked them off in the direction of Washington.

On the journey into the capital, Dexter warned them that they would be going directly to the White House for a top-level meeting, and briefed them on who else would be present.

They were met at the West Wing reception entrance by the President’s Chief of Staff, who conducted them to the Oval Office. Scott couldn’t help feeling that, as it was his first meeting with the President, he would have preferred to have shaved at some time during the last forty-eight hours, and not to have been dressed in the same clothes that he’d worn for the past three days.

Warren Christopher was there to greet them at the door of the Oval Office, and he introduced Scott to the President. Bill Clinton welcomed Scott home, and thanked Hannah for the part she had played in securing the safe return of the Declaration.

Scott was delighted to meet Calder Marshall for the first time, Mr. Mendelssohn for the second time and to be reunited with Dollar Bill.

Dollar Bill bowed to Hannah. “Now I understand why the professor was willing to cross the earth to bring you back,” was all the little Irishman had to say.

The moment the handshakes were over, none of them could hide their impatience to see the Declaration. Scott unzipped his bag and carefully took out a bath towel, from which he extracted the document before handing it over to its rightful custodian, the Secretary of State. Christopher slowly unrolled the parchment. No one in the room was able to hide their dismay at the state the Declaration was in.

The Secretary passed the document over to the Archivist who, accompanied by the Conservator and Dollar Bill, walked across to the large window overlooking the South Lawn. The first word they checked was “Brittish,” and the Archivist smiled.

But it was only a few moments more before Calder Marshall announced their combined judgment. “It’s a fake,” was all he said.

“How can you be so certain?” asked the President.

“ Mea Fecit ,” said Dollar Bill, looking a little sheepish.

“So does that mean that Saddam is still in possession of the original?” asked the Secretary of State in disbelief.