The door opened and a short, dapper man came in. In pressed blue slacks, a pale yellow shirt, and a gray cravat, he reminded Quinn of a mannequin.
“Mr. Eudon. Thank you for meeting on such short notice, oh, and for sending the car — nice ride.”
Eudon shook hands firmly but ignored Quinn’s attempt at camaraderie. “Detective Chief Inspector Quinnborne?”
“The same.”
“Of the Metropolitan Police Service in London, I understand.”
“Right again.” Quinn continued to try for lighthearted, even though Nazar’s smile looked closer to a smirk.
“I’m curious. What brings a British policeman to Israel?”
“I came here with Abdul. We were scheduled to meet someone in Jerusalem yesterday.”
“Associated with the terrible events in London, I presume.” Still with the smirk.
Heat rose in Quinn’s face. It had been a long day; there was only so much of this supercilious prick he could take. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the nature of the meeting.”
“I understand, Detective. Please forgive my curiosity.” Nazar switched to a serious face. “Keisha tells me Abdul and Adiba were abducted. Is that correct?”
“That’s what we believe.”
“Was that before or after your meeting, Detective?” The beginning of another smirk showed on Nazar’s face.
Quinn stared hard at the little man. Nazar Eudon was easy to dislike. He shelved the ‘good cop’ act. “I understand you met Abdul and Adiba recently?”
“Yes. Abdul attended my company’s press briefing in Eilat. He struck me as an interesting young man. We come from similar backgrounds. I asked him to join me for supper. He had made arrangements to spend time with his girlfriend, so I invited her along. They indulged an old man for most of the day, and I persuaded them to stay the night. Unfortunately, I left early the next morning and didn’t see either of them again. I do hope nothing unpleasant has happened to them. They are a charming couple.”
Quinn pulled out the picture of Adiba. “Is this her?”
Nazar tilted his head. The action reminded Quinn of a chicken looking at scratch. “Yes, although the picture doesn’t do her justice. Abdul has quite a catch there, I think.”
“What about this girl?” Quinn turned over the picture and pointed to the name.
“I don’t understand, Detective. What about her?” Nazar got a sudden itch at the side of his nose.
Quinn caught the body language. Nazar understood something. “This is Adiba’s younger sister, Lana. She’s missing too.”
Nazar’s lips formed a tight line. “Adiba came because she was with Abdul. I do not know her family.”
“Did you and Abdul talk about Allah’s Revenge?”
The sudden change of topic didn’t faze Nazar. “We never mentioned them. In fact, the first I knew of them was a few days later, after that dreadful Al Jazeera video… all those poor people.”
“Do you know what kind of gas they used?” Quinn asked.
Nazar blinked once. Then his face turned to stone.
“I invited you here, Detective, because I am fond of Abdul and Adiba. I did not believe I could help, but I was willing to try. However, I do not like to be insulted at any time, and particularly not in my own home. Keisha!” His assistant came in immediately. She must have been standing at the door. “The Chief Inspector is leaving. Good day, Detective.” Nazar turned on his heel and marched from the room.
“This way, Detective. Mufeed is waiting.”
Quinn followed her micro-skirted butt, listening to the clip-clip of her stilettos.
“Please give Mr. Eudon my apologies, Keisha. I’m culturally clumsy. I meant no harm by what I said. If you hear from Abdul or Adiba, please contact me at the Dan Hotel in Eilat.”
When he got back to the hotel, Quinn called Scott. “Nazar knows something. What I can’t figure is why he reacted to the younger sister’s name.”
“Do you think he’s the money behind Ghazi?”
“Could be. Maybe he’s got both girls and Abdul locked up in his mansion. Maybe anything. I don’t know, can’t get my arms around it.”
“Ghazi sent another e-mail,” Scott said.
“Why e-mail Abdul if he’s holding him?”
“He addressed it to Special Branch; he knows they’re monitoring the account.”
“That’ll make it look even more like Abdul’s in bed with Ghazi. What does he want?”
“Same list of prisoners.”
“That’s dumb. Why should the Israelis give in this time?”
The line went quiet. When he spoke, Scott’s voice had lifted a half octave. “Haven’t you seen the news?”
“I’m in Israel and I don’t speak Hebrew, remember?”
“Holy Shit! You haven’t heard about the G20?” Scott filled Quinn in on the massacre.
“How come the Saudis survived?”
“Official line is they don’t know. Praise Allah.”
“Yeah, right. What are the Israelis going to do?” Quinn asked.
“Who knows, but the Americans will be pressuring them to act. Their VP was killed… What about you?” Scott asked.
Quinn let out a long sigh. “Dunno. I thought of going back to Nazar’s pad, uninvited — he’s left town, traveling to the US, according to his hot assistant.”
“Hot?”
“Whatever. I’m not sure what I’d gain, and I’m wary of spending an extended period in a Jordanian prison.”
“Look, Quinn, a cell phone is on its way, should be there in the morning, and some US dollars. Why not wait till the Israelis and Americans make a decision on the prisoner release?”
“Without a plan, doing nothing may be all I’ve got. I’ll call you tomorrow on my new phone. And Scott… thanks again.”
“Sure, get some rest.”
Quinn turned on the TV and found CNN. It didn’t take long to catch up: The British Prime Minister, the US Vice President, the French and Canadian Prime Ministers, the list was unbelievable. Leaders of nineteen of the twenty most powerful countries in the world were dead. Suspicion about the Saudis was rife. Baffled biotech experts speculated about the gas. The opening ceremony was scheduled to be televised. Fortunately, the organizers had it on a five-minute delay. The pictures hadn’t been released, yet. But it was only a matter of time before everyone understood what these crazies could do to a human body.
Chapter 20
Nazar felt well rested after the long flight from Aqaba. With a final touch of ownership, Keisha straightened his tie, and he stepped from the plane at Sky Harbor Airport, Phoenix, Arizona into one hundred and twenty Fahrenheit. In the parched desert heat Nazar’s eyes were drying out as he descended the plane’s steps and crossed under its belly to a waiting Jeep. His driver skirted a line of commercial airplanes, following a painted road to a shiny silver helicopter, which waited, blades drooping like a wilted flower.
Nazar climbed in and nodded to the pilot.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Eudon. I’m Samuel.”
The large, black pilot shook his passenger’s hand. “Better put on your cans.” He offered a set of oversized headphones then busied himself with takeoff duties.
The rotors began their reluctant rotation. The machine rose laboriously for the first few feet, then, once they had sufficient vertical lift, the pilot tilted the stick forward, and they accelerated toward the towering South Mountains, framed by a cloudless, blue Arizona sky.
“I flew this way last week, amazing what your people have done.” The pilot flashed brilliant white teeth.
“I’m eager to see the progress,” Nazar said.
“Two years ago, desert, and now… wow!”
The pilot’s excitement was infectious. Nazar’s heart skipped when they crested the mountains and sunlight glinted off the domed roofs of the three completed buildings, fifty miles east. Each silver dome crowned a massive conversion chamber, five-hundred feet in diameter, sunk two-hundred feet into the ground. Circled by hundred-foot-wide concrete aprons, from the air the conversion chambers resembled enormous brimmed hats.