Gamay wondered about that too. “We may have some trouble with the authorities. It’s a long story, but we’ll be there as soon as we can.”
“Keep me posted,” Kurt said. “If you can’t get away, we’re going to need someone else — and fast.”
Kurt hung up and Gamay put the phone back in her pocket. “It never rains but it pours,” she said.
“Not here,” Paul replied. “This is a desert.”
“So I’ve heard,” she said with a sad smile.
By now, the Libyan agent had come back from the operating room. He made his way over to them and stepped out onto the balcony.
“My apologies,” he said. “Not only did Reza confirm your story, he insists you saved his life and were very helpful at the pumping station.”
“Glad to hear we’ve been cleared,” Paul said.
A flash lit up a distant part of the city. The boom arrived seconds later. Some type of explosion had gone off.
“Yes, you’ve been cleared,” the agent said, “and Reza is still alive, but the damage is done. Two other pumping stations have been hit and the rest are operating at a fraction of capacity. Reza will be here for days, and it may be weeks before he can continue his work. By the time he’s back on his feet, this country will be tearing itself apart for the third time in the last five years.”
“Maybe we can help,” Paul said.
The agent looked off into the distance. Smoke was rising in the night, obscuring the lights. “I suggest you leave now while you still can. Before long, it will become difficult for anyone to get out. And you may run into others in the government who are not as open-minded as me. They’ll be looking for scapegoats. Do you understand?”
“We’d like to say good-bye to Reza,” Gamay insisted.
“And after that,” Paul added, “we could use a ride to the airport.”
41
Vice President James Sandecker sat in a crowded conference room in the Italian parliament building in the center of Rome. Several advisers were with him, including Terry Carruthers. Scattered across the room were similar groups from every country in Europe.
The session was supposed to be devoted to developing a new trade pact, but it had been hijacked by events in Libya, Tunisia and Algeria.
In a stunning twelve-hour period, both the Tunisian and Algerian governments had fallen apart. New coalitions were forming and power seemed to have shifted back to the groups that had once run things. The fact that this happened against a backdrop of growing violence and water shortages was not shocking, but the fact that each government had been expected to survive until the sudden defection by dozens of key ministers and supporters was.
The Algerian collapse was particularly surprising, since it began with the Prime Minister stepping down and citing traitors throughout the government.
“Someone’s stirring the pot,” Sandecker said to Carruthers.
“I read the CIA’s North African assessment yesterday,” Carruthers replied. “None of this was expected.”
Sandecker replied, “The men and women at the Agency do a good job most of the time, but they also see ghosts where there aren’t any and sometimes mistake elephants in the room for part of the decor.”
“How bad is this?” Carruthers asked.
“Algeria and Tunisia are problems, but Libya’s worse and it’s hanging by a thread.”
“Is that why the Italians are making an argument calling for change in Libya?”
It was a good question. With Libya on the brink of civil war, a strange proposal had cropped up, championed by Italian lawmaker Alberto Piola, who was a powerful member of the ruling party though not Prime Minister. Piola was leading the trade delegation, but instead of talking business, he was seeking support among the conference attendees for action in Libya.
“We must urge the Libyan government to step down,” he insisted. “Before it falls apart.”
“How will that help?” the Canadian ambassador asked.
“We can support a new regime that will come to power with the people’s backing,” Piola said.
“And how’s that going to solve the water crisis?” the German Vice Chancellor wanted to know.
“It will prevent bloodshed,” Piola replied.
“And what about Algeria?” the French representative asked.
“There will be new elections in Algeria,” Piola said. “And in Tunisia. New governments in those countries will decide what to do and how to address the water problem. But Libya is more likely to become a flashpoint.”
For the most part, Sandecker sat quietly. He was surprised by Piola’s unrelenting focus on the Libyan problem, especially since Italy was still reeling from the events in Lampedusa. As his own experience at NUMA and in the administration had taught him, one crisis at a time was more than enough.
Eventually, Carruthers leaned over and spoke quietly into Sandecker’s ear. “What he’s asking for can never happen. Even if everybody in this room agreed, we’d still have to go back to our own countries and convince our leaders to enact what he suggested.”
Sandecker nodded discreetly. “Alberto’s been around the block a time or two. He knows that as well as any of us.”
“So why bother?”
Sandecker had been trying to guess what Piola’s game was all morning. He offered what he thought was the most likely conclusion. “He’s not dumb enough to ask for a vote on something that isn’t going to happen. He’s laying the groundwork and setting the stage for acceptance of something that already has happened.”
Carruthers pulled back, looking at the Vice President oddly. Then he seemed to understand. “You mean…?”
“The Libyan government is a dead man walking,” Sandecker said. “And from the way he’s acting, Alberto Piola seems to have been expecting it.”
Carruthers nodded again. And then he took the initiative, a step that Sandecker was proud of. “I’ll contact the CIA and find out what they know about the elephant in this room.”
Sandecker grinned. “Good idea.”
42
Kurt drove a rented black car through the crowded streets of Cairo while Joe sat in the back and Renata rode shotgun. An iPad, receiving data from a satellite, rested on her lap.
“He’s continuing on straight ahead,” she said.
“Or at least his phone is,” Kurt replied, pulling around some slower traffic and rumbling through a torn-up section of street filled with potholes that would be better described as moon craters.
They were following the signal from the satellite phone that had been used in Malta. They believed it was in Hassan’s possession, but they couldn’t be sure until they laid eyes on him.
“How are we getting this information anyway?” Joe asked from the backseat. “I thought satellite communications were secure.”
Renata explained. “The satellite in question is a joint Egyptian — Saudi communications unit, known to be used by the intelligence services of both countries. The European Space Agency launched it. Prior to launch, it sat in a special facility, where it was mounted on a rocket. And prior to that, agents of one European country, which shall remain nameless, made an unauthorized addition to the telemetry system.”
“All the more reason to launch your own satellites,” Joe said.
“Or use two cans and a string to share secrets,” Kurt said.
“Maybe we could just call him, tell him to pull over,” Joe suggested.
“Then we’ll never see where he’s going,” Renata said.
“Good point.”
“Next left,” Renata said, looking at the screen. “He’s slowing down.”