Charles Brokaw - The Lucifer Code

‘It’s gonna be a pretty city when they finish up,’ Hamilton stated, ‘but it looks a mite under-defended, if you ask me.’

‘The Saudi Royal Navy is out there,’ Webster said.

‘So are American ships,’ Napier said. ‘I’m willing to bet that the American navy is going to keep more troublemakers out of the area than the Saudis.’

Webster nodded. That was one of the selling points he hoped to push to the young king. Instead of persuading him to listen, though, Webster was certain Prince Khalid would take the suggestion as a personal affront. In fact, the vice-president was counting on that fact. Khalid’s youthfulness and inexperience, as well as his burning desire to drive the Shia people from his homeland, should be enough to tip the scales towards war. And if that wasn’t enough, the intel that Dawson had only that morning passed along through informants he had access to within the country would. Webster was waiting for it all to hit the fan.

In the meantime, he would look like a hero, the man trying to put a lid on the seething cauldron that was the Middle East. When everything was said and done, Webster knew he would be seen as a saviour, even when his initial efforts were unsuccessful. That thought caused him to smile.

‘What’s on your mind?’ Hamilton asked. ‘You look like the cat that ate the canary.’

‘Building confidence,’ Webster replied. ‘Stockpiling positive energy.’

‘That’s good, because me, I’m feeling like the canary about now.’

‘It’s going to work out,’ Webster said. ‘Believe me, once the dust settles on this thing, we’re all going to be in a lot better places.’

At that moment, Hamal, Prince Khalid’s representative, entered the room. He had met them at the airport and been with them ever since. He was a burly man in his early forties with swarthy skin and a fierce forked beard. His scarred calloused hands testified to harsh years and a hard life. As a counterpoint, his white thawb and ghutra were immaculate.

A lot of people might overlook and underestimate the man, Webster realized. He wasn’t among them.

‘Mr Vice-President Webster,’ Hamal said politely, his black eyes roving over the group. ‘Prince Khalid will see you and your guests now. If you will follow me.’

‘Of course,’ Webster said, and did.

The opulent offices showcased wealth, privilege and power. They were furnished with expensive furniture, rugs and computer images of the proposed look of KAEC – what the locals called King Abdullah Economic City – when it was finished hung on the walls.

‘Ostentatious much?’ Vicky whispered.

‘Presentation is everything,’ Webster whispered back.

‘Not when it’s overkill.’

Six guards armed with machine pistols stood in front of a heavy security door that bore the coat of arms of Saudi Arabia – a palm tree over crossed swords. One of the guards stepped towards them and motioned the other guard forward. In short order, Webster was frisked and checked with a wand metal detector.

One of the men held out a straw basket.

‘Please put your phones and PDAs into the basket. They will be returned to you once you are out of his excellency’s office.’

Webster led the way by putting his Blackberry into the basket. The others followed suit. Then the door was opened.

Prince Khalid, dressed in a flowing thawb and ghutra, stood facing a wall of polarized glass that held the bright afternoon sun at bay. Six feet tall and slim, he didn’t look imposing in any way, but his manner compensated for this. Rigid defiance moulded his stance. He held his hands behind his back as he looked down on the city like a predatory raptor. He wore two large pistols holstered at his waist and a curved sword was sheathed down his back. Wearing weapons in public was something his father would never have allowed, but the prince looked like a warrior born.

Webster noted the young prince’s reflection in the polarized glass. Khalid had his father’s long hooked nose and sharp hawk’s eyes that gave his handsome features a dangerous edge. His beard was short and patchy, not quite filled in, giving him the appearance of a young man trying to appear much more mature than his tender years allowed. If he hadn’t been who he was, Webster might have been inclined to feel sorry for the young prince suddenly plunged in over his head.

Khalid flicked his gaze to Webster, held his eyes full measure for a moment, then looked across at the others. His lips pursed in disdain, as if they had failed to come up to his standards.

‘Prince Khalid,’ Hamal said, ‘I present to you the Vice-President of the United States, Elliott Webster.’

Knowing that the next move needed to be the young prince’s, Webster stood his ground. ‘Good afternoon, Prince Khalid. On behalf of the United States, President Waggoner and myself, I’d like to express our condolences at the recent losses you’ve suffered. Your father was a good man and a great friend to my country. He’ll be missed by us all.’

‘Thank you, Mr Webster. You are most kind.’ Khalid’s voice was almost a monotone, and Webster could hear the sharp edge of anger underlying his words. ‘However, you’re not here entirely to offer your support in my time of grief, are you?’

‘No,’ Webster said. ‘That’s the price a head of state must pay. Your personal life is for ever entangled with your leadership.’

‘So my advisors tell me.’ Khalid knotted his left fist and placed it against the window. ‘I did not wish to see you today, but they told me I must.’

‘Perhaps it might be better if we came back at a later time,’ Webster suggested.

Khalid turned to face them and fury tightened his face. ‘That wouldn’t do, would it? As soon as it was found out, and it would be found out because you have brought Ms DeAngelo with you, that I refused to meet you, my choice would be seen as weakness. Isn’t that true?’

‘Your Excellency, I mean no disrespect, but these are trying times for us all. The world has grown more tightly knit over the past few decades. Your father’s death-’

‘It was murder,’ Khalid’s snapped. ‘Call it what it was or don’t speak of it at all.’

Stung, Webster had to remind himself that this was the attitude he needed from the young prince. Still, it was hard to take. He nodded. ‘Your father’s murder is going to impact the world.’

‘Strange, isn’t it? That no one thought to tell him that his life impacted the world.’

‘I enjoyed a good friendship with your father.’

‘He talked of you a lot,’ Khalid agreed. ‘If not for your diplomacy in this area, your country might not have had the oil agreements they currently enjoy.’

‘What’s been good for my country has also been good for your country.’

‘I’m afraid that’s where we’re going to have to disagree.’ Khalid paused. ‘With all due respect intended, of course.’ He waved to the city on the other side of the polarized glass. ‘It has taken time for my people to realize that our future lies here, not with the United States or the Western world.’

‘What do you mean?’ Vicky asked. ‘Many of your people love the United States and the Western world.’

‘That is because your country and others have seduced my people for generations,’ Khalid said. ‘Outsiders have shown them a way of life that can never be theirs. We live under Allah and the teachings of his prophet, Muhammed, not the god of excess and extravagance as you people live.’

‘Your father never felt-’

Khalid’s voice rose in anger. ‘My father and many of his advisers were just as seduced as those fools who follow your ways. He harboured vipers in his breast, and in the end they murdered him.’

‘I don’t remember anyone saying they knew who murdered your father,’ Webster said.