One of the Prince’s three BlackBerry phones lined up on the table began to vibrate. He threw a curious glance at the phone, his eyes the only part of his body that moved. His right hand jutted up, almost instinctively, as if he were brandishing a sword ready to storm into battle. Zakir, the Prince’s personal aide, appeared in an instant, and bowed down with profound respect.
“I have some urgent business matters to attend to,” the Prince said, pointing at the phone vibrating on the table. “Zakir, escort Mr. Bouitillier ashore at once.”
“Thank you so… so much for this honor…” the Frenchman began to express his final gratitude, as Zakir gave him a gentle but firm pat on the shoulders. Mr. Bouitillier gathered his folders and his briefcase and left the deck. Only then, did the Prince punch the answer key on his phone.
“Tell me my problem is gone.”
“Well, it is, kind of…” Colonel Farid Haydar replied in a low voice.
“Wrong answer, Colonel,” the Prince cut him off. “How did you screw this up?”
“It’s… the two of them are… the Americans are now involved in our affairs.”
“Of course, they are. What were you expecting? We tell them there’s a plot against their President and you think they’re going to do nothing?”
Colonel Haydar let out a deep breath, but no words.
“Are they gone?” the Prince asked.
“Negative, Your…”
“What happened?”
“The men I sent to do the job… they failed.”
“You told me that already. Give me details,” the Prince hissed the last word.
“They… my men tried to eliminate the targets while they were driving away from the police lab. There was gunfire and some vehicles were damaged in the shooting. We can easily blame this on the Alliance as another terrorist attack.”
“I asked you to handle this discreetly and I wanted them gone. They know about the bomb and they’re becoming very dangerous.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty, I assumed they were going to do a clean job. They told me their plan was…”
“Whatever it was, it failed. Are these lowlifes you hired dead?”
“Yes, they are.”
“And you’re sure there’s no way they can be connected to you, and then to me? I don’t want any headaches.”
“Yes, there’s no connection, as far as I know.”
“That’s not good enough, ‘as far as you know,’ Colonel.” The Prince imitated Farid’s voice with a nasal accent. “Make sure all ties between you and them are severed. Erase all traces.”
“Yes, I have my men investigating the shooting.”
“Where are the targets now?”
“Holed up in the US Embassy, but I can still get to them.”
“Are you that stupid?” the Prince’s voice echoed on the empty deck. “One attempt on their lives may be explained, but not two. And absolutely not on American soil.”
“I understand,” Farid said. “My apologies.”
“This is what you’ll do, and listen carefully, so that you’ll not screw this up too. Arrange for a deportation order and put the agents on the first plane out of Tripoli. I don’t want them nosing around in my business and discovering the truth. They already know too much. The Americans have received their warning, and the agents have served their purpose in full.”
“It will be done as you wish.”
“I hope so, for your own sake. Call me once they’re in the air.”
The Prince tossed the BlackBerry over board. Before the phone plunged into the dark blue waters, the Prince snapped his fingers. Two aides materialized from thin air and stood behind the Prince’s couch, out of sight, but within earshot.
“The colonel’s services are no longer needed,” the Prince spoke slowly as if the aides were taking notes. He did not want them to miss a word or misunderstand his order. “Make sure his body is never found. And send the Americans a gentle reminder that their President’s life is only a sniper’s bullet away.”
“The colonel’s furious. He’s mad and I’m in deep shit.” Abdul folded his cellphone. He collapsed on the leather couch and dipped his head in his shaky hands.
“Abdul, look at me,” Justin said from across the room. He was pacing by the window of a small office on the second floor of the US Embassy. Matthew had reluctantly whisked them off in an armored vehicle from the highway shootout after the arrival of local police. It’s is only because you’re investigating for us, Matthew had repeated more than once. Otherwise, I would have not lifted even the smallest finger. Within the safety of the diplomatic residence, they were awaiting their looming fate.
The Libyan stared at Justin with his bloodshot eyes.
“Did he fire you?” Justin asked.
Abdul shook his head. “No, but this will never leave my record. I’m done, finished. I’ll never make captain, let alone higher ranks. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get transferred to direct traffic.”
“We’ll do our best, so that nothing happens to you, and that your career remains unaffected.”
Abdul replied with a barely noticeable nod, and a fake smile.
“Did he say anything about us?” Carrie asked.
She was sitting behind a desk, toying with a black stapler and a few sheets of blank paper. She had already stitched a couple of smiley faces.
“No, but I’m sure your investigation is over.”
Carrie sighed. “We were just getting started and then…” She stopped in mid-sentence as the office door swung open.
Matthew marched in. He was carrying a folder in his hands and a somber mood on his face. “Could you excuse us for a few minutes?” he asked Abdul.
The Libyan dragged his feet out of the room.
“Colonel Haydar has faxed me your deportation orders, based on disturbance of public order and threatening civilian lives. Neat trick.” Matthew waved a printout from the folder.
“That’s bullshit.” Carrie stood up and spread her arms, as if she were going to snatch the deportation orders from Matthew’s hands and tear them to shreds. “Both Abdul and Nour and many other witnesses can testify our reaction was in self-defense.”
Matthew shook his head. “That may be the case, but the facts remain that you fired weapons, illegally obtained, I assume, and killed two civilians.”
“Two assassins who were shooting at us,” Justin clarified.
“Still, this order ties my hands.” Matthew sat in a chair and gave his temples a deep rub. “Oh, why did I believe your involvement would make things easier for me?”
“Because it did,” Justin replied. “Look, we understand Farid is pissed off and he wants us out of here. But we’re not finished. We still have to interrogate witnesses and check the crime scene.”
“Uh-uh.” Matthew shook his head. “I can’t have you out there. All I can do is delay your deportation until tomorrow morning, at the most. I’ll make up some excuse that you need to brief me and then process some paperwork.”
“That means our conclusions are incomplete,” Justin objected.
“As far as I’m concerned, they’ll do. We’ve changed the times and the routes of the President’s convoy during her visit, reviewed our emergency options, redoubled our manpower, and requested extra support from the local police and the Internal Security.”
“You’re making a grave mistake,” Carrie said, “our findings at the lab, along with this attack may point at something else.”