Lopez nodded.
‘There must be some kind of underground movement here, or maybe even environmentalists who Stanley could run to.’
‘In an anti — American populace, they would gladly hide such an ally from prying eyes long enough for him to prove to them that he can build a device that will render the House of Saud penniless overnight,’ Ethan said. ‘He’s not trying to start a revolution in America, but in the country that supplies America with oil.’
Amber held her head in her hands. ‘He’s playing with fire, literally. Dissident movement leaders in this country have been publicly beheaded in the past and the legal system is governed by Sharia Law. He’s going to get himself killed out here!’
‘We need to track him down and fast,’ Ethan agreed. ‘Majestic Twelve, if they’re behind all of this, will have been able to track him too. It’s only a matter of time before they figure out where he is.’
‘And where we are,’ Lopez reminded him. ‘We’re on their radar too after Argentina.’
‘I don’t think that they’ll have anticipated us coming out here so soon after what happened in Clearwater,’ Ethan replied, and on instinct he glanced over his shoulder out of the rear window of the sedan.
Behind them on the dark asphalt, beyond the escorting SUV, were several vehicles on the multi — lane highway heading south toward Riyadh. Two of them were the dusty sedans Ethan had seen earlier, following a respectable distance behind Assim Khan’s escort.
‘Well, somebody other than Seavers knows we’re here,’ he said.
XIII
‘You stay in the car.’
Amber shot Ethan hurt look as he climbed out of the vehicle. ‘No way. I want to look this guy in the eye and find out what’s happened to my father.’
‘If Seavers is behind any of this, the first thing he’ll try to do is use you as leverage against Stanley,’ Ethan insisted. ‘Right now it’s my guess that the guards he sent to escort us don’t know of your significance, but if you give any indication you’re somebody Seavers wants to get hold of we’re going to find ourselves in a whole world of hurt. Stay here, let Nicola and I find out what’s going on and we’ll report back as soon as we’re done.’
Amber smouldered with fury, still gripping the door handle.
‘He’s right,’ Lopez soothed. ‘We need to keep you out of sight, or what happened to your father may happen to you, too. We won’t be long.’
Amber, her teeth gritted, released the door handle and folded her arms as she stared out of the tinted windows at the elaborate building nearby.
Ethan climbed out of the vehicle and watched as Assim and his three associates approached them. The two vehicles had passed through a security checkpoint, which itself was the only point of access past a twelve foot high razor wire fence that encircled the entire compound. Outside, a loose gathering of Saudi protesters were watching with dark eyes that smouldered with suppressed rage.
‘Those guys always there?’ Ethan asked Assim as the escort joined them.
‘Most days,’ Assim admitted. ‘There is a strong anti — American feeling in this country. Most foreign compounds are heavily guarded, little patches of Americana in the desert that are often the target of attempted suicide bombers and other militant attacks. Trust me, it’s not possible to be safe in Saudi Arabia as an American.’
‘Reassuring,’ Ethan said as they walked towards the building. ‘Those two sedans followed us from the airport,’ he added as he gestured to the two vehicles now parked beyond the protest line.
‘We kept one eye on them,’ Assim replied without concern. ‘They cannot harm you here. What of your friend?’ Assim asked as he looked back at to where Amber was sitting inside the vehicle and staring out of the tinted glass. ‘Will she not be joining us?’
‘Catherine is a journalist,’ Lopez replied for Ethan, whipping up the first name that popped into her head. ‘We have some delicate questions for Huck Seavers and the presence of a journalist may cause him to doubt whether his answers will be kept in confidence. We’ve asked Catherine to stay in the car for now.’
Assim nodded, apparently appreciative of the gesture.
‘Mr Seavers has a lot of problems with journalists in the United States, so I’ve heard,’ he said as they walked into the building’s elaborate foyer. ‘I don’t suppose he’ll be wanting any further issues with them out here, although the kingdom has very strict rules governing the work of journalists.’
‘I wonder why,’ Ethan murmured, his words heavily laden with satire.
Khan led them to an elevator on one side of the foyer, as one of his associates handed out identity badges to them. Ethan was surprised to see that his name and image was already on the badge.
‘Just how long has Seavers known that we were coming here?’ he asked.
‘I have no idea,’ Khan said with a shrug as the elevator climbed away from the foyer. ‘We were given the badges this morning.’
Ethan glanced at Lopez but said nothing as the elevator carried them up to the third floor and opened out onto a plush corridor that led to a pair of wide, open mahogany doors. They walked into a conference room dominated by a long, slender glass table arrayed with glasses and vases filled with exotic desert flower species. Broad windows looked out across the scorched desert, tinted with a film that shielded them from some of the sun’s brilliant glare. As Ethan walked toward the windows he could see the protesters far away beyond the brutal wire fences that glittered brightly in the sunlight, the crowd looking a little larger than it had before.
‘Mr Warner?’
Ethan turned as a tall, broad — shouldered man in a sharp suit of dark grey charcoal and a crisp white shirt strode into the room behind them, his hands in his pockets and a broad smile on his face.
Huck Seavers looked good for his age, which Ethan recalled from the file as being forty five. Seavers had inherited the family fortune, rather than digging in the dirt for it for the better part of his life, and thus Ethan assumed he had lived in the lap of luxury all that time.
‘Mr Seavers,’ Ethan said as he shook the CEO’s hand. Seavers’ skin was soft, the hands of an office worker.
Ethan introduced Lopez, as Assim Khan and his three associates moved out of the conference room and closed the door quietly behind them.
‘Please, sit down,’ Seavers said as he strode to the head of the table.
Ethan took a seat, his back to the windows and Lopez sitting down opposite as Seavers stretched out in his chair, crossed his legs at the ankle and folded his hands in his lap.
‘Now, you’ve come along way so what can I do for you folks?’ Seavers asked.
Seavers exuded the folksy charm of a Kentucky oil man made — good, and it appeared to Ethan as though he had spent many years perfecting the image. Seavers clearly wanted himself to be seen as the ordinary man who had simply struck lucky, probably cultivating the natural image of his father. Whether Seavers thought his charade fooled anyone was anyone’s guess, but Ethan wasn’t interested in the image, more the man beneath it.
‘We’ve come to discuss what happened in Clearwater,’ Ethan said.
Seavers inclined his head in acquiescence, gestured with his open palm hands in what looked to Ethan a carefully choreographed display of honesty.
‘One of our more successful campaigns,’ Seavers said. ‘It’s likely we’ll begin excavating there within a few months, once the final legal technicalities are in place.’
‘You know that’s not what we’re talking about,’ Lopez said.