I mentioned. She needs a pericardial window, and she needs it soon.”
“To what purpose?”
Qureshi took note of the other man’s voice, which had dropped to a dangerous murmur. Clearly, Mengal did not like being lectured to. Talking down to people was a habit common to many surgeons, and Qureshi knew he shared the affliction. He paused again to check his tone, then continued. “The window will relieve the pressure on the heart by removing the excess fluid. It is a relatively simple procedure, but I need an anesthesiologist to do it properly.”
“You can’t do it with Thorazine and a local anesthetic?”
Qureshi hesitated again, suddenly uncertain; perhaps this man knew more than he was letting on. “Technically, yes, but it is extremely risky. General, you went through a great deal of trouble to get this woman to me as quickly as possible. Why take a chance now? You want her alive, correct?”
“Yes.” Mengal nodded slowly, absently scratching his beard with his left hand. “Yes, I do want her alive. And I agree with your assessment.” He seemed to relax slightly. “As always, Doctor, you are correct. Who is best equipped to handle this?”
“I can handle it here, but I need help.”
“Give me a name.”
Qureshi thought for a moment, trying to disguise his rising panic. He was already well aware that he was involved in something beyond his control, and though he was desperately trying to push the thought aside, he knew he was now expendable. He had seen too much, learned too much, and whoever he brought into this situation would soon find themselves in the same position. He had no wish to subject an innocent person to that fate.
“General, I left my colleagues in England, and I have yet to seek out new ones here.”
“I don’t believe that’s true, Said.” Mengal took a menacing step forward, his short, blocky frame filling the doorway. “But if it is, then I will be forced to turn elsewhere for help. I could, with some effort, find the kind of man you need, but he may not want to work with you. He may prefer his own colleagues. Of course, that would negate the need for your participation.”
The general paused to let this statement sink in, then continued in a voice as dry and hard as the wind sweeping across the Kashmiri foothills. “Said, I value your friendship. I believe we can work together for many years, but you must prove your loyalty now.”
“Sir, I can’t—”
“The name, Doctor. Give me the name of the man you want. I will find him for you.”
“Craig. Randall Craig. He’s a visiting professor from the University of Washington.”
“How do you know him?”
“We used to work together. We’ve stayed in touch. You should be able to find him at a hospital in Lahore. Sheikh Zayed. Do you know it?”
“Yes. What about the supplies? Anesthesia, the machine, the monitoring systems . . . ?”
“I can find the supplies. They can be procured with relative ease in Sialkot, but I need Craig to make them work, and I need him soon. The woman’s symptoms could become worse at any moment.”
“Fine.” Mengal nodded toward the kitchen, where several of his men were waiting. “They will stay and guard the house. Most will patrol outside, but two will remain outside the secretary’s room at all times, even when you are treating her. Is that understood?”
“Yes, of course.” Qureshi hesitated. “And the other one?”
“The Algerian?” Mengal offered a curious smile. “Why do you ask, Said?”
“He watches everything,” Qureshi blurted out. It was something that had been on his mind from the moment they’d arrived, and he could no longer contain his fear. “He never stops smiling. It’s as though he’s waiting for something. He will kill her if you give him the chance . . . I can see it in his eyes. General, I don’t want that to happen here. I don’t want
Qureshi caught himself and stopped suddenly, searching for some sign of anger in the older man’s face. Mengal merely smiled again. “I understand your concern, Said, but he had the chance to take her life in Rawalpindi, and he didn’t. He stands to benefit only if she lives, my friend. You have nothing to fear from him.”
“But he will stay.”
“Yes, he will.” Mengal took another step forward, the smile fading.
“And you will not. You must acquire the materials you need as soon as possible. Go to Sialkot. Find what you need. One of my men will accompany you. I will find this man Craig and bring him here. Once you fix what is wrong with the woman, we will leave you in peace. Agreed?”
“Yes, General.” Qureshi did not believe a word of it, but he was in an impossible position. All he could do now was try to buy some time. “Agreed.”
CHAPTER 17
MADRID
After dropping Kealey and Petain at the building site, Ramirez had continued to circle around the block, just as Kealey had instructed. He had kept his eyes forward the entire time, and he had not tried to talk to Naomi, which—as far as she was concerned—was the only good thing about the whole situation. She still couldn’t believe that Ryan had pulled her off in favor of Petain, but at the same time, part of her wasn’t surprised at all. Worse still, part of her said she deserved it.
She had tried to hold off from thinking about it, but now, alone with her thoughts in the back of the moving van, she couldn’t help but wonder what he saw when he looked at her. Only one thing was certain. Whatever he saw, it wasn’t good. There had been a time when she had enjoyed his genuine admiration and respect, but those days were obviously over. Now when she caught him looking at her, all she saw was concern or anger. Sometimes both. She involuntarily touched the scar on her face, which even a heavy application of make-up couldn’t completely hide. She had grown accustomed to seeing the pity in other people’s eyes, but she had yet to see it in Ryan’s. The thought that his concern and anger might give way to something like that was almost unbearable, but she knew it was only a matter of time.
She slumped against the inner wall of the van and looked down at her hands. They were shaking slightly—not so much that anyone else would notice—but Naomi could feel the tremors shooting up through her forearms. Her legs were trembling, too. She’d taken her pills only five hours earlier, and her body was already demanding more. She closed her eyes as tight as she could and pushed down a wave of nausea, thinking about the little white tablets in her right pocket. The temptation was great, especially since she had more hidden in her bag at the hotel, but she didn’t want to be stuck if they couldn’t get back and she needed them later. She thought about asking Ramirez to slow down, but she didn’t want to get him started. Besides, she could hear him talking urgently over his cell phone, and she didn’t want to interrupt.
Suddenly, the van wrenched hard to the right, throwing her from the bench. She tumbled across the metal floor, flailing for something to hold on to, and then the vehicle squealed to a halt, propelling her into the metal partition. The air was knocked out of her lungs, so she lay still for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Dazed, she climbed to her feet and looked through the rectangular hole in the partition. The harsh words on the tip of her tongue dissipated when she saw the look on Ramirez’s face.
“That was your man,” he told her. “They’re in a trailer toward the rear of the site, and they’ve got a serious problem. Ghafour is down. Petain shot him.”
Naomi pushed down the shock and thought as fast as she could, quickly considering, then discarding, any irrelevant questions. “Did they get anything out of him?”
“No. But he’s still conscious . . . They’re working on it.”
“What did he tell you to do?”
“Stay here and wait for another call.”
“What?” Naomi couldn’t contain her surprise. “That’s all he said?”
“That’s it,” Ramirez confirmed.
“That’s bullshit! We’ve got to get them out of there. They don’t have time to question him.”
Ramirez’s face turned hard, deep fissures creasing his forehead, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I
