“I am willing to listen. No promises.”
“Of course. I think he’s been around long enough to understand this. But he is rather persistent and insisted that the two of you discuss your mutual futures in person.”
I suspected the sultan was a heavy contributor to the Senator’s re-election campaign. Whatever mutual future there was between the sultan and I would no doubt include the Senator as well.
“As I said, no promises. But yes, I’ll speak with him.”
“Good. That’s good, Marco. I know you are busy, but when can I tell him you’d be available and are you willing to travel?”
I knew it would be far easier for me to travel with a small contingent than for the sultan to come with his harem, his princelings and several of his grandchildren. I also knew that I could slip in and out easier than he ever could, so our meeting could truly be done in secret. I agreed to let the senator arrange a meeting at one of the sultan’s properties, a luxurious palace on one of the islands in the Indian Ocean. I’d been there before once when I was still on the Teams and we helped with a sweep of the grounds when a suspected terrorist was smuggled there. We captured the bastard in a storage closet at the sultan’s enormous kitchen. The terrorist saved us a lot of time and trouble too, since his interrogation was done in secret aboard a Naval vessel nearby.
I could arrange the transportation, thereby ensuring my safety, if the sultan could agree to the airdrop and the exact timing. Senator Campbell promised to get back to me within 24 hours. I asked him for permission to use Naval assets if need be for landing and he said he’d arrange it.
Checking contract scheduling, I noticed I had a Little Bird, my pet nickname for one of my favorite little Sikorskys, safely stored in the Maldives. That might give me some luck with Diego Garcia friendlies, and besides, the Navy owed me some serious favors. If I could piggyback, an Indian Ocean meeting was entirely possible, and wouldn’t require much in the way of expense.
So I was boxing myself in, fixing myself up not to be able to say no, since Senator Campbell had some serious Armed Services creds. But more importantly, his wife was the younger sister of the First Lady, which had even more weight.
Barely four hours went by before I was contacted by “Harry”, the sultan’s gay bastard son, born of a favorite harem girl and never in line to the throne, partly because of his birth lineage but most certainly due to his sexual preferences. I’d worked with him before. He’d grown up as close to an American kid as possible, even attended NYU film school while living with his mother in a purchased brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. The sultan hired him right out of college to be his social secretary and trusted the kid with his life. In return, the son lived a lavish lifestyle he’d have never had and promised he’d never disrespect his father.
“Well, Marco. I guess we’ll be working together again. My father is most anxious to get caught up.”
“I’ll bet. So, which one of your idiot brothers is heading the project in Africa?” I asked. Harry, short for Hanarabi, and I had always been on close terms, not dissimilar to how I used to joke with my Teammates.
“Oh, that would be Khalil and Absalom. You know they both graduated with advanced degrees in engineering and architecture at MIT.”
“Glad to hear it. I was afraid they’d be tossed before they could finish.”
“Hardly, Uncle Marco,” Harry resurrected that name I’d not heard for over five years. “They were way more serious about their studies and their legacy than I ever was. I’m still looking to make my directorial debut.”
“Which means your father has turned you down another dozen times.”
“Quite right.” He sighed. “But in the meantime, all this work takes the place of the bright lights on the marquee in Times Square. Someday, if my father doesn’t manage to live to be a hundred like his father, I might actually get a chance!”
“In his line of work, that’s a good thing, Harry.”
“You mean being sultan?”
“I know men who would consider it a full-time job to keep all those women happy in your father’s stable. And I mean him no disrespect, Harry.”
“Oh I get it. But he pays to play. Look at all the family he supports. So now he wants to see my brothers become successful businessmen, something he was not allowed to do by his own father.”
“Do they know?”
“Do they know what? Oh! That I am their brother? Oh heaven’s no! There are always palace rumors, but nothing he can’t quickly quash. My mother’s life would be in danger, and she has no protection.”
“So he’s still kept that golden leash on you.”
“Oh, Marco, you know I love the man. He’s always been good to us. I am a devoted sycophant, and he knows he can trust me with his life. I don’t think any of his wives he’d say the same about.”
“Bingo. Women are complicated. I learned that lesson the hard way.”
“I’ve heard.”
I knew they’d have done their research before reaching out. “So, you have the dates and the arrangements figured out?”
“I have them coming to you over a secure link, encrypted with your mother’s birthdate added to the date of your wedding.”
“Grrr…” They really had stepped up their game.
“Oh stop it, Uncle Marco. She can’t be that bad. You were with her for a long time.”
“Too long. Tell me she hasn’t made any contact with him.”
“Haven’t heard a peep. So you’ll be coming alone or is there a new Mrs. Gambini in the wings?”
“I’m solo. Probably going to
