Sanusi Brotherhood, a monarchist insurgency group. Now Zuwayy claimed to avenge his family's honor by taking the country back from Qadhafi in the name of the Sanusi Brotherhood.
His claims were utterly baseless. Born and raised in Tripoli, the son of an oil executive and housewife, Zuwayy was an ex-army officer who had been serving in relative obscurity as an infantry-training officer, specializing in demolition, breeching, and minelaying. It was widely suspected, though never confirmed, that Zuwayy joined the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, an extension of the Mujahadeen-ultranationalist rebel groups spread out across the Middle East and Asia dedicated to the overthrow of existing governments and replacing them with fundamentalist Muslim religious governments. Much of his financial backing came from Mujahadeen organizations in Iran and Sudan collectively known as the Muslim Brotherhood, with whom Zuwayy had formed a close alliance.
He had no royal blood in him, and his family never was part of the al-Sanusi clan, a great nomadic tribe that fought Turks, Italians, and Germans to win freedom for their people. The remnants of the al-Sanusi dynasty were scattered across Africa and the Middle East, fearing the Libyan assassination squads that pursued them under orders from Colonel Qadhafi. Although Zuwayy claimed to restore the monarchy to the al-Sanusi dynasty, his reputation as a ruthless, fanatical sociopath only drove them deeper into hiding. No one in Africa or the Middle East dared challenge his reign. The Western press scoffed at his claims and repeatedly offered much evidence that he was not a Sanusi, but the evidence was largely ignored, especially within Libya itself.
President Salaam stifled a smirk at the aide's remarks about Zuwayy's grandiose title and motioned beside him. 'Highness, may I present my wife, Susan Bailey Salaam. Madame, it is my pleasure to introduce His Highness, King Idris the Second, President of the United Islamic Kingdom of Libya.'
Susan Salaam stepped forward, curtsied deeply, averted her eyes, and extended her right hand upward. 'Welcome to Egypt, my lord. We are honored by your presence.'
It was obvious that her husband thought this too much of a show, even for Zuwayy. He was surprised when Zuwayy offered her a very pleased smile, the first he had ever seen or depicted of him. Could this man, could any man, be so vain…? 'Please rise, woman,' Zuwayy said. 'We are privileged to be here on this glorious occasion.'
Susan rose-and Zuwayy looked into the most beautiful, most breathtaking, most alluring face he had ever seen. Her head was veiled, as it should be, but the sheen and luster of her deep black hair underneath could not be concealed. She wore no makeup that Zuwayy could detect, but her lips were deep red, her eyes dark and mesmerizing, her cheekbones high, her mouth perfectly formed. Her skin was perfect, light brown with slightly darker cheeks from exposure to sun, almost African. She took one look at the Libyan pretender, and even his rock- hard heart began to melt.
She was not African-Zuwayy knew she was an American, born to southern European emigrants-but this creature was the most beautiful he had ever seen on the planet. She could not be human-she had to be a goddess, or a gift from the loins of Allah himself. He also knew she was much more than just a thing of great beauty. She was once an American air force military officer, rising in the ranks from a lowly security police officer to deputy chief in charge of intelligence for the U.S. Central Command. During the War for the Liberation of Kuwait, what the rest of the world called the Persian Gulf War of 1991, she acted as an intelligence liaison to the Egyptian military, which is how she and Kamal met. Zuwayy had been told that she was a woman of many talents: She could pilot a jet airliner, drive a main battle tank, fire a rifle, and argue both common and Shari'a law in any courtroom in the world in four languages.
Susan Salaam quickly averted her eyes again, not daring-properly-to gaze into the eyes of another man, as was proper Islamic custom. Zuwayy had to force his own eyes from her, realizing-then not caring-that he had let them linger on her too long. She must be a gift from God, Zuwayy told himself again..
… a gift for a man blessed enough to have such high favor of Allah. And Salaam was not, could not, be that man. 'It is a pleasure to meet you, my child,' Zuwayy said finally, fighting to control his breathing. He did not use the more formal address for a married woman, ya sayyida, but instead the more intimate expression dahab.
'Thank you, Your Highness,' Susan said, again letting those beautiful eyes flash up toward his. 'May the blessings of the Prophet, praise his holy name, be upon you and all of us today.'
'Insha'allah.' He had to tear himself away from looking at her, so instead concentrated on her husband, looking Kamal Ismail Salaam up and down disapprovingly. Salaam was wearing a simple white and blue traditional headdress, but was otherwise dressed in a conservative gray doublebreasted Western-style business suit, with a single gold chain around his neck. 'You do not appear to be prepared for prayer, brother.'
'I have been asked to give a few remarks to our guests before the prayers of celebration begin, Highness alaam replied. 'My duties require that I be elsewhere during the prayers of celebration.' He motioned to his left. 'The chancellor of Al-Azhar University and chief justice of the Arab Republic of Egypt's Supreme Judicial Council, Ulama Khalid al-Khan, will lead the prayer celebration in my place.'
Khalid al-Khan bowed deeply to Zuwayy, then took the Libyan's extended hand and touched it tenderly to both cheeks. Al-Khan was in his late forties, a fundamentalist Sunni Muslim cleric who led the fight in 1980 as a firebrand-some said fanatic-to make the Shari'a, the Islamic legal code, the basis of Egyptian law; before that, the law had been a mishmash of English common law and even Napoleonic code, with a healthy dose of Turkish law thrown in to confuse everyone. The highest-ranking cleric in Egypt, al-Khan was an advocate of an even greater role of fundamentalist Islamic rule in Egypt and was very vocal in his opposition to both the Mubarak and Salaam governments. Al-Khan was dressed similarly to Zuwayy, with traditional Arab robes and turban.
'Majesty, it is an honor to meet you,' al-Khan breathed. 'May the blessings of the Prophet be upon you forever and always.'
'And to you, my son,' Zuwayy replied. He looked aghast at Salaam as if to say, 'That is how you pay proper respect to your superior.' 'The Prophet of course allows the faithful to pray anywhere,' Zuwayy said to Salaam, 'but He always looks with extreme favor on those who join together with their brothers in prayer.'
'My apologies, Highness,' Salaam said.
'I see you prefer to wear the clothing of a mushrikun as well,' Zuwayy added. 'You have also shaved your beard, of which Allah almighty also disapproves. At least you still observe the adab al-imama' he added, motioning to Salaam's turban, 'although it does not appear to be the proper length, as prescribed by His Holiness the Prophet. You shall be instructed as to-'
'Mr. President… er, Highness,' Salaam interjected, purposely getting his title wrong just to irk the Libyan, 'Allah, praise his name, knows the hearts and minds of all men. I am his servant, and I serve him in my own way.'
'The Prophet has told us how we must serve God,' Zuwayy responded sternly. 'If it is in our power, we must obey. Please do not mock the Prophet or the faithful by telling us that not joining in prayer is a proper way to praise Allah. You must-'
'I'll take that under advisement, Highness,' Salaam interrupted again. He bowed to Zuwayy, as did his wife; neither the Libyan nor al-Khan acknowledged his gesture. 'If you'll excuse me, I must prepare for my welcoming address. Until this evening.' He turned and stepped away before Zuwayy could say anything else.
The two greeted other guests and visitors, but were soon escorted by staff members to the front of the great hall and were quickly instructed on the day's events. 'It is not a good idea to anger Zuwayy, Kamal,' Susan said to her husband in a low voice. 'He commands much respect in North Africa and elsewhere. The fundamentalists love him, and most of his enemies fear him.'
'He is a popinjay and a pretender,' Salaam said disgustedly. 'We all thought Colonel Qadhafi was a ruthless dictator, but Zuwayy is a hundred times worse. I had hoped a real al-Sanusi had taken over the Libyan governmentthen perhaps we'd see peace in our lifetime. Unfortunately, Egypt and most of Europe has to prepare to defend itself against whatever power-mad move he and his Mujahadeen crackpots will come up with.' He glanced over his shoulder and noticed al-Khan still speaking with Zuwayy. 'Or maybe we should be defending ourselves against the enemy right in our own house.'
'Khalid al-Khan may not be one of your staunches! supporters, Kamal,' Susan said, 'but he represents the loyal opposition.'
Salaam smiled, then squeezed his wife's hand tenderly. 'My wife, you are one of the most intelligent and thoughtful women I have ever known, on a par with the greatest minds in our great country, but you know so little f power politics,' Salaam said. 'Ten years in the U.S. Air Force as an intelligence officer is indeed impressive but insignificant experience compared to one year sitting across a People's Assembly chamber arguing with men like Zuwayy and al-Khan. They and other members of the 'loyal opposition' would just as soon throw a punch or an insult as they would squish a fig.'
