“At least the lamb will be good.”
“This way, sir,” Mustafa hid a smile as he led Tomas past two hulking men who frisked him, and down three metal steps into the stateroom.
“Major Stilton.” The Allah warmly shook his hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for having me.” Tomas glanced longingly at the rich buffet on the table.
“Hunger and thirst is understandable.” Abdullah guided Tomas over the fruits and vegetables, cheeses, lamb and chicken dishes. Tomas politely filled his plate and waved off the wine, sipping water in silence as the two men assessed each other.
Younger than I thought, Tomas picked at the hummus. Confident and arrogant, but they all are.
“Thirty-four.”
“Pardon?” Tomas asked.
“I’m thirty-four. If you didn’t already have that information.”
“I did,” he lied.
“You’re sixty?”
“Fifty-six next month,” Tomas answered sourly.
“Happy birthday. How is Grandma?”
“She sends her respect to you and your family.”
“And mine to yours. My family, well. They would not be so gracious.”
“Which is why we are here.”
Abdullah played with his robes. Prick is nervous. Tomas caught the way he rubbed the thumb and forefinger together. Does he do that while thinking or lying?
“Our world is at peace, Major. No wars since the Surrender…”
“Truce.”
Abdullah smirked and bowed slightly.
“You’ve had your troubles,” Tomas continued. “Still some unhappy Sunnis in the Peninsula.”
“A family argues. Sometimes there is blood. Overall, sharia has brought prosperity. Happiness.” He raised a finger. “To those who accept.”
Tomas ate a fig and waited.
“And to those who don’t…” his voice trailed off sadly. “We can go on like this for a long time. We have the lands, you have the nukes. Fortunately those of my people who equate suicide with victory can amuse themselves other ways.”
Like raping nuns, Tomas ate another fig.
“But in the long term, it will rot us away. We are conquerors. You are builders. Once we built. A thousand years ago, a glorious time of science and medicine…”
“Please,” Tomas said quietly. “How about no speeches? Unless you want me reciting the Declaration of Independence and all that stuff about freedom.”
Abdullah’s mouth tightened. “You do not like me, Major?”
“I’m not sure yet. At least not going in.”
“I like you,” Abdullah said as if granting Tomas a royal favor. “You’re brave. I could take you for ransom and what would your country do? Launch a nuclear missile? But you’re here because you believe there could be more to this world.”
“I’m here because Grandma does. She respects your beliefs and welcomes a dialogue. But the leader of the world’s greatest democracy….”
“The only democracy.” Abdullah sneered.
“Making it even more important.” Tomas sneered right back. “She, too, can talk about her sadness at a world where tyranny is supreme.”
“I’m not here to dismantle sharia. Or betray my people.”
“Then why are we here, Abdullah? Are you playing the spoiled older son who worries his father might live a long time?”
The Arab sadly shook his head at Tomas’ ignorance and poured more wine. This time, Tomas accepted a glass.
“As I started to say before you invoked your American patriotism, my people once saw no conflict between faith and freedom. Science and Allah. Physicists, chemists, philosophers, doctors. Muslims, Christians, Jews, we all lived together in peace. I want to return Islam to those glory days.”
“That was more than a thousand years ago.”
“History is patient.”
Tomas ignored Abdullah’s raised glass and took a long thoughtful swallow. “But those Allahs, sorry, Muslims, had armies. I count your navy consists of three men including yourself.”
Abdullah laughed. “There are more. But would I give you names? How do I know you wouldn’t tell my father? A conquered nation always looks for a way to supplicate.”
“Not America.”
“Once that was true,” Abdullah stared coldly. “I have allies. I have armies. I have merchants, eager to trade. Clerics eager to preach the true Allah of peace and brotherhood. Hands, reaching out. But they see no sign of friendship other than an emissary who clearly will recommend against this.”
“I will give Grandma the facts.”
“The facts are, Major, that we do have Sunni problems in the Peninsula. The damn Afghans never give up. Chinese Muslims are making demands. So are the blasted Muslim Russians. They’re still Russians, no matter. The Crusaders, sorry, Christians, make for poor second class citizens. Productivity is not great. A resistance of sorts. Pathetic, but annoying. Nothing would unite Islam more than, as your Miners once said, finishing the job.”
“That would be very stupid.”
“And war is smart?” Abdullah pointed his glass at Tomas’ leg. “But if there’s to be another way, my friends and I need a partner. We need Grandma.”
• • • •
TY WRAPPED HIS arms around the frame of the bullpen door and stared suspiciously at Puppy warming up.
“What’s he got?” he asked Jackson.
The catcher peered through his mask at Puppy. “He got good stuff.”
“He looks labored.”
“I’m taking it easy…” Puppy tried.
“I ain’t talking to you.” The manager squatted by Jackson. “A catcher has to tell the truth. You ain’t stupid enough to lie to me, are you?”
Jackson played nervously with his mask. “I’d tell you if he was shit, skip.”
Cobb grunted doubtfully and glowered at Puppy. “I want a complete game.” He kicked dirt at Jackson and headed back toward the dugout. Puppy mouthed thank you.
“You can’t go nine, Pup,” Vern said.
“And disappoint my fans?” he grinned bravely.
Fans spilled out beyond both foul lines, stirring eagerly as the Hawks took the field. After the recitation of Grandma’s Blessing, Puppy waved his glove at Frecklie standing behind home. The kid clapped his hands and, for a moment, the stadium was still.
Dale cartwheeled out in a bright yellow dress, followed by three friends also wearing yellow outfits. They catapulted around home plate and formed a square about the peevish robot umpire, not programmed for such nonsense.
“Go Hawks,” they chanted, leaping.
The crowd applauded cautiously.
“Go Hawks,” the cheerleaders repeated.
More polite applause. Dismayed, Dale bounced onto the shoulders of Sallie Ann, a gorgeous red-head, and they trotted from foul line to foul line shouting “Go Hawks” until the crowd responded merrily.
As the Falcons leadoff batter stepped
