"Oh, really? It had better be good-for your sake."
"Everyone calls you the reincarnation of Cleopatra, an empress of the new United Arab Republic…" He paused, and he noticed that she did not rebuff him-interesting reaction! "Why don't we make you… an emperor?"
"What are you blathering about, Kazakov?"
"The next Muslim Brotherhood Unity Congress, to be held in Tripoli," Kazakov said. "You will attend-and you will be elected president of the Muslim Brotherhood."
Again, Kazakov noticed, no rebuke, no derision-she was not only listening, but considering the thought as well! Finally-much too late-she asked, "What are you talking about, Kazakov? How can you do this?"
"Madame, do you really think the Muslim Brotherhood would even exist without my support?" Kazakov asked. "Zuwayy is president of the Brotherhood because I give him the money to bribe the other members into voting for him. With him, it is a meaningless title-he doesn't care at all about Muslims or brotherhood, only money. But you…"
"I am not Muslim, Kazakov."
"But you were on the verge of becoming Muslim, Madame-the world knows this," Kazakov said. "I know you have worshiped with your husband; I know you have taken the baths, read and studied the Quran, fasted during Ramadan, and given the zakah, the poor-due-I believe you even registered yourself as a Muslim so you could accompany your husband on the Hadj, the pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina. All you need to do, from what I know about converting to Islam, is publicly give the Shahada, the testament of faith. Besides, this whole Muslim Brotherhood thing is one of Zuwayy's concoctions to make himself look good and increase his perceived power. You have a thousand times more charm, charisma, and leadership qualities than he does. You would captivate the world, Susan."
"This… this would never work, Kazakov. You know nothing about it."
"I know I can turn the Muslim Brotherhood away from Zuwayy-I can expose him as an impostor, a pretender," Kazakov said. "With a little cash and the right information dropped here and there, I can destroy him without hardly lifting a finger. This paves the way for you to take over the Muslim Brotherhood. But with you controlling Salimah, you would be more than just a figurehead-you would be a true leader, a true savior. An empress."
Another long pause-she was actually considering it. Man, Kazakov thought, the one thing more powerful than money just had to be vanity.
"And all I have to do…?"
"Tell McLanahan to stay out of Africa," Kazakov said. "Tell your boyfriend and his bombers not to interfere with our operations again. You give me a taste of Salimah-just ten percent. Then you and I will talk about your future… as the leader of the United Arab Republic."
There was another pause, but much shorter this time. "Not one bomb falls on Egypt, Kazakov," Susan Bailey Salaam said, "or the deal's off. Destroy Zuwayy. Destroy him."
"Yes… Empress," Kazakov said. He hung up, stood up, and had to bite a knuckle to keep his excitement in check. Ivana Vasilyeva looked at him strangely as she entered the room. "For a moment there, Madame Salaam," he said half aloud, "I thought you cared for this McLanahan. I guess everything-and everyone-has a price and a value."
"What is it, Comrade?" Vasilyeva asked.
"You've got your orders now-you're going to Libya," he told her. "Get close to Zuwayy, report on his every move, find out where he's keeping any American prisoners, and get ready to kill that pig."
"Yes, sir," Vasilyeva said. "He won't be difficult to manipulate."
"I have no doubt. Take control of the situation in that palace. But most importantly: Save those prisoners. I believe they're in Tripoli-they may even be right in the palace."
"I'll find them, Comrade."
"And if you find a woman named McLanahan being kept prisoner by Zuwayy, capture her and get her out of there. She could be the key to getting our hands on the bastards that put me in this dreary place. If you find her, I want her taken alive and brought back to me."
"What is she to you, sir?"
"If I can use those captives to lure the Tin Man into a trap, then Salaam can go to hell," Kazakov said acidly. "I'll get around to eventually burying that little bitch too." He looked at Vasilyeva. "But my real target is the husband, General Patrick McLanahan. If you encounter him, you are to kill him without fail. Do you hear me? Without fail."
"Why don't I just kill them all, Comrade?" Vasilyeva asked with an evil smile, "and we will let God sort them out?"
No one in the entire Arab world had seen anything like it in more than forty years-and, some surmised, nothing like this had been seen in northern Africa in more than two thousand years.
King Jadallah as-Sanusi Stadium was packed: more than two thousand spectators in the stands, another fifty thousand on the field, plus another five thousand dignitaries from all over the world in a specially set-up seating section, celebrating the opening of the First Muslim Brotherhood World Unity Conference. News agencies from around the world were carrying the celebrations and speeches live. It had the atmosphere of the opening day of the Olympics. Security was tight, almost oppressively so, but it did not deter from the festival atmosphere of this unprecedented gathering.
One by one, the presidents or representatives of the member nations of the Muslim Brotherhood-Sudan, Palestine, Algeria, Syria, Jordan, Yemen, Somalia, Albania, Iraq, and Afghanistan-filed into the top VIP section of the stadium, to the delighted cheers of the crowd. Once these ministers were welcomed and seated, the provisional member nations of the Muslim Brotherhood, representing most of the rest of the Muslim world, entered. It was an incredible sight to see longtime enemies and adversaries greeting and embracing each other, and each time it happened it delighted the crowd even more.
The last representatives to enter were the most important: the host nation and the leader of the Muslim Brotherhood, King Jadallah as-Sanusi of the United Kingdom of Libya; and two of its most important provisional members-Crown Prince Abdallah bin Abd al-Aziz al-Sa'ad, the deputy foreign minister, commander of the Saudi National Guard, and heir to the throne of Saudi Arabia; and President Susan Bailey Salaam, the newly elected president of Egypt. The presence of the Crown Prince was significant in two ways: It signaled a more favorable change in attitude of the Saudi royal family toward the Muslim Brotherhood and, secondarily, to Jadallah Zuwayy; yet, because King Fa'ad himself did not attend, it was apparent that the Saudi royal family wasn't ready to commit to joining the Brotherhood quite yet.
The stir caused by the appearance of the Saudi Crown Prince was muted in comparison to the appearance of the president-some said the "queen"-of Egypt. Susan Bailey Salaam was greeted with thunderous applause, singing, cheering, and chanting-and when she lifted her arms, palms upward, to acknowledge the crowd, their roaring redoubled. The eventual appearance of the host and leader of the Muslim Brotherhood, Jadallah Zuwayy, was hardly noticed-Zuwayy tried to delay his appearance on the dais for as long as he could to allow time for the cheering for Bailey to subside, but he finally had to step up anyway because it was obvious he would be waiting an awful long time.
There was a brief prayer service, followed by performances by dancers and singers from each of the member nations, and then each representative was allowed to give some brief remarks. Some of the representatives were better speakers than others; some others ran longer than their allotted five minutes. The crowd became restless. Everyone knew why: They were waiting for her to speak. Jadallah Zuwayy had no choice but to speak last: As the host, he was obligated to let all of his guests precede him. There was nothing he could do.