Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

tonight. He understands if you prefer not to have your face recorded,

but in that case he asks if we might make an audio recording instead."

The room hung in tense silence. Alfred Horn laughed silently. He had

four video cameras recording the meeting already. "You have video

equipment in that case?" he asked.

"Yes," Jalloud replied, worn'ed that he might already have overstepped

the bounds of propriety.

"Set it up then. By all means. In negotiations of this magnitude, it

is necessary to have an accurate record."

An audible sigh of relief went up in the conference room.

At the snap of Jalloud's fingers an Ar-ah opened the aluminum case and

busied himself with a camcorder and tripod.

"I have a request of my own, gentlemen," Horn said. "I too keep records

of meetings, but I'm old-fashioned. Do you mind if my personal

secretary takes notes?"

"Certainly not," Jalloud replied courteously.

Horn pressed a button. In a few seconds the door opened to reveal a

stunning young blonde wearing a severely cut blue skirt and blouse.

Ironically, the two Arabs who affected Western dress seemed most shocked

by Ilse's sudden appearance.

"As you can see, gentlemen, said Horn, "my secretary is a woman.

Is that a problem?"

There were some uncomfortable glances, but Jalloud ended any discussion

before it could begin. "If you wish it, Herr Horn, it is so.

Let us begin."

Ilse took a seat behind Horn, crossed her legs, and held a notepad ready

to take down anything Horn might instruct her to. She ignored the Arabs

completely, her attention on Horn's eyepatch.

Jalloud said, "Herr Horn, allow me to introduce my companions. To my

right is Major Ilyas Karami, senior military adviser to Our Esteemed

Leader. He is understandably out of uniform."

The tall, mustached Arab wearing robes stood and nodded solemnly.

"To my left," Jalloud continued, "is Dr. Hamid Sabri, our nuclear

physicist. Do not let his youth mislead you. In ou country he is the

preeminent expert in his field."

A bookish young man wearing a business suit stood and bowed his head.

'And finally," Jalloud concluded, "All Jumah, my personal interpreter.

He speaks excellent German and humbly waits to serve you."

"Excellent," Horn said in German. Until now they had all spoken a very

uncomfortable.English.

"And I," the robed Arab said proudly, "am Abdul Salam Jalloud, prime

minister of my country."

"Of course," Horn said ' "Do you mind if I smoke?"

Instantly the Arabs brought out packs of American cigarettes and lit up.

Horn accepted an Upmann cigar from Smuts's@ pocket supply. As Smuts lit

the cigar, Horn noticed a rectangular swatch of color emblazoned on

Major Karami's gold lighter. A solid field of blue-green-the flag of

Libya. A military man to his bones, Horn thought. The homeland is

never far from his mind. A quick glance at Smuts told Horn that his

security chief had also noticed the lighter.

"Perhaps you gentlemen should begin by stating your requirements," Horn

suggested. "That should give us a clear idea of where we stand."

Jailoud yielded the floor to Dr. Sabri, the physicist. The

bespectacled young Libyan spoke soft, precise Arabic.

Jumah the interpreter translated whenever he paused for breath.

"What we need," Dr. Sabri began, "is fissile material. Either highly

enriched uranium (U-235) or plutonium (Pu-239). We need as much of

either isotope as you can supply, both if possible. At the very least,

we need fifteen kilograms of uranium or five kilograms of plutonium. By

'highly enriched' I mean uranium enriched to at least eighty percent

purity. Anything less is useless to us. We also need triggers@ither

lens or krytron types-and sculpted steel support tubes."

He paused nervously. "These are our requirements," he concluded, and

resumed his seat.

When the interpreter's voice faded, there was silence in the room.

The Libyans, watching Horn closely, failed to notice the shock whiten

Ilse's face as she realized the implications of the young scientist's

words. She had not seen the Libyan flag emblazoned on Major Karami's

lighter, and even if she had, she wouldn't have recognized it. But she

knew enough science to understand that these men were discussing atomic

weapons. It took all of her willpower to remain seated and silent.

She watched the remainder of the meeting through a gauzy haze of

unreality, like someone who has stumbled onto the scene of a bloody

traffic accident. Alfred Horn, however, watched the Libyans as affably

as if he were negotiating the price of Arabian horses.

Prime Minister Jalloud finally broke the silence. "We are prepared to

pay any reasonable price for these items, Herr Horn. In the currency of

your choice, of course. Dinars, dollars, pounds, marks, ECUS, rand ...

even gold bullion. The question is, are these items available at any

price? Do you actually have access to them?"

Alfred Horn smiled. This was the moment he had been waiting for-not for

weeks or months or years, but for decades. For a lifetime.

He could barely suppress the excitement he felt on the threshold of

realizing his life's work.

"Gentlemen," he said softly. "Allow me to be frank."

The Libyans nodded and leaned forward. Ilse held her breath, praying

she would awaken from the nightmare.

Pieter Smuts remained impassive as ever, his gray eyes glued to his

master's face.

"For over a decade," said Horn, "your leader has sought to obtain

nuclear weapons. He has attempted to develop a manufacturing capability

in your home country, and also to purchase weapons ready-made from other

nations. The first avenue proved impossible; students from your country

aren't even allowed to study nuclear physics in the great universities

of the world. And the second option, while theoretically possible, has

proved to be an embarrassing circus of bribery, scandal, and hoaxes. The

Chinese sent you packing in 'seventy-nine. India backed out of a

proposed deal and refused to fulfill her obligations to you, even after

you cut oil shipments to New Delhi by one million tons. Belgium yielded

to U.S. pressure, and Brazil has refused to give any valuable

assistance, in spite of the fact that you sold them massive amounts of

arms in 'eighty-two . .

The Arabs tensed in fury, but Horn continued reeling off his grocer's

list of Libyan misadventures in a voice that was its own arbiter of

truth. Finally Prime Minister Jalloud, white with indignation, rose

from his chair.

"We did not come here to be insulted, sir! If you have nothing but

words for us, there are other suppliers!"

"Like Edwin Wilson?" Horn countered. "And his grubby Belgian

compatriot Armand Donnay? The uranium they offered you might-I.say

might-have been worth using as nose-weights for jets, but I doubt it.

You'rr lucky you had young Sabri to recognize Wilson's proposition as

garbage."

The young physicist nodded modestly, but Major Karami said, "Perhaps we

planned to irradiate their uranium at our Tajoura reactor, to produce

plutonium for a weapon of our own."

Dr. Sabri's sarcastic expression instantly undercut this feeble attempt

to save face.

"Gentlemen," Horn said soothingly, "I did not bring you here to insult

you. I merely state these facts so that the true basis of our

negotiations will be plain, and so that you will understand the

necessity of paying the price I ask."

The mention of money placated the Arabs somewhat. It suggested that the