Leigh sat with Grunfeld on the other side of the helicopter, along with Jerry and the Coach. The rest of the Coach’s men hadbeen forced to leave the aircraft—no room.
The scene on the monitor shifted as the camera panned quickly to one side. It stabilized, bringing into focus a dark-skinnedman wearing desert camouflage gear and a head wrap. The man’s arms were extended before him, tied at the wrists by plasticquick-tie restraints. Two huge Special Forces soldiers covered him, rifles held at the ready. Will studied the prisoner, whocould only be Törökul. He stood straight, unbowed, unafraid, almost curious. Will wondered what Leuchten had told him aboutwhat was happening.
As if responding to Will’s thought, Anthony Leuchten stepped into the frame. He looked thoroughly miserable—hot, filthy, withsome sort of rash covering most of the diminished pouch of fat on his neck.
“Is the Oracle online?” Will heard him say. “We’re too exposed out here. This is taking too long.”
Will took a deep breath and motioned to the cameraman.
“Turn it on,” he said.
The cameraman flipped a switch on the side of his camera, and a red light blinked on.
“Mr. Leuchten,” Will said. “Nice to see you again.”
“Mr. Dando,” Leuchten responded, his tone clipped and short. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah. What about Törökul? What did you tell him?”
“I told him that the Oracle wanted to speak to him, that he was not under arrest, that he would be released as soon as theconversation was complete, and that whatever you tell him has nothing to do with the U.S. government in any way.”
“Of course you did,” Will said. “That’s all I need from you, then. Tell your men to cut him loose and step back. I want himfree when he speaks to me.”
“Impossible,” Leuchten said flatly. “We can let him go once we’re done.”
Will raised an eyebrow.
“Tony, doesn’t the fact that your boss set this whole thing up, just because I asked him to, suggest that I’m the one calling the goddamn shots? Get the restraints off him. Now.”
Leuchten’s mouth clenched, but he turned and gave the order. Without a word, one of the Special Forces soldiers sliced throughthe plastic cuffs and stepped back. Törökul immediately began to massage his wrists, but his eyes stayed focused on the camera.
“All right,” Will said. “Does he speak English?”
“No,” Leuchten said. “But one of our men can translate.”
“Good. The rest of you, get back.”
Leuchten and all the soldiers but the translator stepped out of the circle of light, fading back into the darkness.
Will watched Törökul for a moment, who seemed content to wait and see what happened next.
“Do you know who I am?” Will asked.
He realized how much of what was about to happen hinged on Törökul’s answer to that question.
“Yes,” came the translation. “The Oracle is known to me.”
Will released the breath he’d been holding, a big, relieved sigh.
“How?” Will asked.
“The leaders of my faith have spoken about you for some time.”
“All good things, I hope?” Will said, and instantly asked himself what the hell he was thinking.
Upon hearing the translation, Törökul gave Will a blank look.
“No. No good things.”
Will considered this and decided it didn’t matter.
“Will you listen to what I have to say?” he asked.
“Everywhere I look, guns are pointed at me. What choice do I have? But I will tell you what I told your companion—even nowthe Sword of God is being prepared to fly. Say what you like. Every moment brings me closer to victory.”
“But you were told you would be released.”
Törökul gestured at the translator and spoke, his face cold.
“These soldiers storm my camp in the dark of night, kill three of my men,” he said.
Will winced.
“They tell me,” Törökul continued, “that the famous infidel prophet wishes a word with me, after which I will be set free.”
Törökul stared fiercely at Will.
“The imams teach that you are no true prophet. It is one of the few points upon which all sects of Islam agree. They say thatyou lie with every word, that you are the devil’s child, casting evil words into the hearts and minds of men.
“So,” he said. “Lie to me.”
Törökul spat, the impact on the ground clearly audible.
“I will listen, and when I refuse you, these soldiers will kill me. That is apparently the will of God, and what choice doI have but to accept it?”
“The will of God,” Will repeated. “I know more than I want to about the will of God.”
Will stopped thinking. Nothing he could say would make things worse. He just spoke.
“I have nothing to do with the devil, Törökul,” Will said. “I’m just a man. But I am a man who can see the future, and thethings I see happen.
“The biys will be twenty-three to twelve in favor of returning your mosque to you and your people. I don’t know when the council willcome back. I don’t know if they will meet your deadline. I only know the results. Twenty-three to twelve in your favor.”
Will leaned forward, doing his best to look directly into the other man’s eyes.
“I am asking you to wait. If you launch your missile, the entire world will burn. You have to know this. But wait until thebiys return, and you will get what you want. You have my word.”
Will waited while the translation filtered through to Törökul and watched the man’s expression harden.
“So. You want a favor,” Törökul said. “Interesting.”
He looked away, out of frame. A long, long pause.
Will gripped the armrest of his seat.
Törökul looked back at the screen, back at the Oracle.
“You do not understand the reason I fight. You do not know anything about me. You just want me to do something for you. Tokeep you safe, in your soft homes in your soft land across the sea.”
Törökul took a step forward, toward the screen. His face was twisted in a snarl.
“Fuck you, Oracle. I do not care if you are safe. I do not care if your children are safe.
