loyal Arabs, and you slide right in as the leader of the Muslim world.'
'I can't do that if Salimah gets wiped out.'
'I can't help that,' Kazakov said. 'But if he does attack Salimah, he'll be slamming the lid shut on his own coffin. You, on the other hand, will have every bit of the power you want. You just have to give me the Tin Man.'
'How am I supposed to do thai:?'
'You're a very beautiful, beguiling woman-you figure it out,' Kazakov said. 'I wouldn't be surprised if they're on their way to save you right this minute. If they come back to rescue you, all you have to do is tell me.'
There was more silence on the phone-but it was shorter this time: 'All right,' Susan said. 'Do everything you can to stop Zuwayy, and I'll do everything I can to bring you McLanahan.'
'McLanahan, you say?' Kazakov asked incredulously. 'That's his name? McLanahan?'
'General Patrick McLanahan.'
Kazakov searched his memory. He had heard of that name before… where was it?
My God… he remembered where he had heard that name. The prisoners… the prisoners that he had ordered Zuwayy to segregate from the others before they were taken to their deaths in Mersa Matruh. One of the American prisoners still being held by Jadallah Zuwayy in Libya was a woman by the name of McLanahan. That was too much of a coincidence. It had to be the same… a relative? Certainly not a sister or wife? This seemed too good to be true!
'Why is that name important to you, Kazakov?' Susan asked. 'Why.do you sound so…?' And then she stopped-she knew exactly why. 'You have her,' Salaam said breathlessly. 'No, not you.. Zuwayy. Zuwayy has the woman named McLanahan.'
'Who is she?'
'She is your death sentence if Patrick McLanahan finds out she's alive,' Salaam said. 'She's the reason he's fighting this battle-just to get her back. You're a captive in a fancy Icelandic jail-you're easy to get to. I guarantee, Patrick will move heaven and earth to get to her-and he'll destroy an entire nation if she's harmed.'
'Call this General McLanahan off,' Kazakov said, his voice fairly shaking with anger. 'I don't care how you do it, but call him off. Threaten him, entice him, screw himI don't care.'
'So he's worth something to you, then?'
'Don't try to dicker with me, woman. I can get McLanahan on my own time.'
'You don't sound so sure to me-if you could get him, I imik you would have done it by now,' Susan said. 'Perhaps I should tell him that you ordered her execution, and you'll find yourself ripped into pieces by him. I assume you've seen his powered exoskeleton and electronic shock weapons in action? Don't think your lawyers will stop him.'
The 'powered exoskeleton' was a new one for Pavel Kazakov-it made his already fearsome battle armor sound even more fearsome. 'All right, all right' Kazakov shouted. He thought quickly. There was an opportunity here-but Salaam had to play along. What did she want? What was her overriding desire? Certainly not this general.. 'Here's the deal, Madame,' Kazakov said. 'You convince McLanahan not to attack us anymore. You keep the sixty percent majority ownership of Salimah, the Central African Petroleum Partners keep their thirty percent, and I'll take the remaining ten percent for myself.'
'You cannot give me something that I already own, Kazakov,' Salaam said. 'Zuwayy extorted Egypt for twenty percent of Salimah, yet he has done nothing but threaten his neighbors and waste your money-and now he's put your very life in danger. He is a psychopathic killer with delusions of grandeur. He thinks he's a Libyan king, yet his henchmen are stealing money from their treasury as if it's free for the taking. Why do you support him?'
'Because he controls an organization that potentially controls forty-five percent of the world's oil reserves,' Kazakov replied. 'What is it you control? What do you-?'
And then he stopped. He remembered the recent items in the news, the rallies, the editorials on this beautiful, opportunistic, charismatic woman-they were calling her the 'next Cleopatra.' Could this work…?
'Are you still there, Kazakov? We'd better come to an agreement soon.'
'Of course,' Kazakov went on. 'I know just what might change your mind.'
'Oh, really? It had better be good-for your sake.'
'Everyone calls you the reincarnation of Cleopatra, an empress of the new United Arab Republic…' He paused, and he noticed that she did not rebuff him-interesting reaction! 'Why don't we make you… an emperor?'
'What are you blathering about, Kazakov?'
'The next Muslim Brotherhood Unity Congress, to be held in Tripoli,' Kazakov said. 'You will attend-and you will be elected president of the Muslim Brotherhood.'
Again, Kazakov noticed, no rebuke, no derision-she was not only listening, but considering the thought as well! Finally-much too late-she asked, 'What are you talking about, Kazakov? How can you do this?'
'Madame, do you really think the Muslim Brotherhood would even exist without my support?' Kazakov asked. 'Zuwayy is president of the Brotherhood because I give him the money to bribe the other members into voting for him. With him, it is a meaningless title-he doesn't care at all about Muslims or brotherhood, only money. But you…'
'I am not Muslim, Kazakov.'
'But you were on the verge of becoming Muslim, Madame-the world knows this,' Kazakov said. 'I know you have worshiped with your husband; I know you have taken the baths, read and studied the Quran, fasted during Ramadan, and given the zakah, the poor-due-I believe you even registered yourself as a Muslim so you could accompany your husband on the Hadj, the pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina. All you need to do, from what I know about converting to Islam, is publicly give the Shahada, the testament of faith. Besides, this whole Muslim Brotherhood thing is one of Zuwayy's concoctions to make himself look good and increase his perceived power. You have a thousand times more charm, charisma, and leadership qualities than he does. You would captivate the world, Susan.'
'This… this would never work, Kazakov. You know nothing about it.'
'I know I can turn the Muslim Brotherhood away from Zuwayy-I can expose him as an impostor, a pretender,' Kazakov said. 'With a little cash and the right information dropped here and there, I can destroy him without hardly lifting a finger. This paves the way for you to take over the Muslim Brotherhood. But with you controlling Salimah, you would be more than just a figurehead-you would be a true leader, a true savior. An empress.'
Another long pause-she was actually considering it. Man, Kazakov thought, the one thing more powerful than money just had to be vanity.
'And all I have to do…?'
'Tell McLanahan to stay out of Africa,' Kazakov said. 'Tell your boyfriend and his bombers not to interfere with our operations again. You give me a taste of Salimah-just ten percent. Then you and I will talk about your future… as the leader of the United Arab Republic.'
There was another pause, but much shorter this time. 'Not one bomb falls on Egypt, Kazakov,' Susan Bailey Salaam said, 'or the deal's off. Destroy Zuwayy. Destroy him.'
'Yes… Empress,' Kazakov said. He hung up, stood up, and had to bite a knuckle to keep his excitement in check. Ivana Vasilyeva looked at him strangely as she entered the room. 'For a moment there, Madame Salaam,' he said half aloud, 'I thought you cared for this McLanahan. I guess everything-and everyone-has a price and a value.'
'What is it, Comrade?' Vasilyeva asked.
'You've got your orders now-you're going to Libya,' he told her. 'Get close to Zuwayy, report on his every move, find out where he's keeping any American prisoners, and get ready to kill that pig.'
'Yes, sir,' Vasilyeva said. 'He won't be difficult to manipulate.'
'I have no doubt. Take control of the situation in that palace. But most importantly: Save those prisoners. I believe they're in Tripoli-they may even be right in the palace.'
'I'll find them, Comrade.'
'And if you find a woman named McLanahan being kept prisoner by Zuwayy, capture her and get her out of there. She could be the key to getting our hands on the bastards that put me in this dreary place. If you find her, I want her taken alive and brought back to me.'
'What is she to you, sir?'
'If I can use those captives to lure the Tin Man into a trap, then Salaam can go to hell,' Kazakov said acidly.
