'No phantoms, Ahmat. I hope to prove that to you.'
'Perhaps you will—if you live.'
'I'll tell you what I told the State Department. I have no intention of mounting a one-man assault on the embassy.'
'If you did something like that you could be considered enough of a lunatic to be spared. Lunacy recognizes its own.'
'Now you're the one being implausible.'
'Undoubtedly,' agreed the sultan of Oman, his eyes still levelled at the congressman from Colorado. 'Have you considered what might happen—not if you're discovered and taken by the terrorists; you wouldn't live long enough to speculate—but if the very people you say you wanted to meet with actually confronted you and demanded to know your purpose here? What would you tell them?'
'Essentially the truth—as close to it as possible. I'm acting on my own, as a private citizen, with no connection to my government, which can be substantiated. I made a great deal of money over here and I'm coming back. If I can help in any way, it's in my own best interests.'
'So the bottom line is self-serving. You intend to return here and if this insane killing can be stopped, it will be infinitely more profitable for you. Also, if it isn't stopped, you have no business to return to.'
'That's about it.'
'Be careful, Evan. Few people will believe you, and if the fear you spoke of is as pervasive among your friends as you say, it may not be the enemy who tries to kill you.'
I've already been warned,' said Kendrick.
'What?'
'A man in a truck, a sahbee who helped me.'
Kendrick lay on the bed, his eyes wide, his thoughts churning, turning from one possibility to another, one vaguely remembered name to another, a face, another face, an office, a street… the harbour, the waterfront. He kept going back to the waterfront, to the docks—from Masqat south to Al Qurayyat and Ra's al Hadd. Why?
Then his memory was jogged and he knew why. How many times had he and Manny Weingrass made arrangements for equipment to be brought in by purchasable surplus space on freighters from Bahrain and the Emirates in the north? So many they were uncountable. That hundred-mile stretch of coastline south of Masqat and its sister port of Matrah was open territory, even more so beyond Ra's al Hadd. But from there until one reached the short Strait of Masirah, the roads were worse than primitive, and travellers heading into the interior risked being attacked by haraamiya on horseback—mounted thieves looking for prey… usually other thieves transporting contraband. Still, considering the numbers and depth of the combined intelligence efforts of at least six Western nations concentrating on Masqat, the southern coastline of Oman was a logical area to examine intensively. This was not to say that the Americans, British, French, Italians, West Germans and whoever else were co-operating in the effort to analyze and resolve the hostage crisis in Masqat had overlooked that stretch of Oman's coast, but the reality was that few American patrol boats, those swift, penetrating bullets on the water, were in the Gulf. Those which were there would not shirk their duties, but they did not possess that certain fury that grips men in the heat of the search when they know their own are being slaughtered. There might even be a degree of reluctance to engage terrorists for fear of being held responsible for additional executions. The southern coast of Oman could bear some scrutiny.
The sound erupted as harshly as if a siren had split the hot, dry air of the hotel room. The telephone screamed; he picked it up. 'Yes?'
'Get out of your hotel,' said the quiet, strained voice on the line.
'Ahmat?' Evan swung his legs on to the floor.
'Yes! We're on a direct scrambler. If you're bugged, all they'll hear me say is gibberish.'
'I just said your name.'
'There are thousands like it.'
'What's happened?'
'Mustapha. Because of the children you spoke of, I called him and ordered him to come immediately to the palace. Unfortunately in my anger I mentioned my concern. He must have
