Robert Ferrigno - Prayers for the assassin

“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.”