'Then you'll be doing that report from the rubble of your government buildings and palaces,' Patrick said, 'because I guarantee you, you won't be able to stop my bombers from attacking this city.'
'Then right after your appearance on CNN, General McLanahan, perhaps you, your wife, and your spies will be dragged out of that rubble yourselves,' Fazani said. 'Either way, we will be safe, and alive, and you'll be dead and disgraced.'
'I have a better idea, Tahir-let us tell Jadallah's financier whom we have now,' Hijazi suggested. Fazani's eyes brightened at that idea. 'I think he will pay handsomely for this man delivered alive to him.'
'Don't count on it,' Patrick said. 'I don't work for any government, but I command a lot of firepower-whoever you bring me to will suffer the same fate as you will.'
'I doubt that very much,' Hijazi said. 'Pavel Kazakov commands many forces as well, and I'm sure he's far wealthier than you are.'
'Kazakov?' Patrick exclaimed. 'Zuwayy is working with Pavel Kazakov? I should have known.'
'I see you've heard of him? Good. He will pay a very generous bonus to the ones who bring you to hint-alive if possible, but dead if necessary. Perhaps we can negotiate a package deal for all of you Americans together-I think Kazakov would love to use you all as an example to others of what happens when you cross him. But first we need to know all about your bombers and other infantry forces you have in Libya. The king has described some very amazing forces-perhaps you can tell us all about them.'
'Go to hell,' Patrick said.
'Well, that is a little more defiant than the things your wife has been saying while in captivity, General,' Fazani said with a smile. Patrick angrily tested his shackles yet another time-they were securely locked. 'Imshi. Enta tiqdar la 'met ahsan min kida. Get him out of here, now.'
After the guards had taken McLanahan out, Hijazi said, 'I'll get Kazakov on the phone right away. I think he's been looking for this guy-I'll bet he'll pay a lot for him.'
'You handle Kazakov-I'll notify Jadallah,' Fazani said. 'This way we cover our asses in case Kazakov blabs that we told him and not our boss.'
'Good idea.'
'We've also got to get all those captives out of here as soon as possible,' Fazani added. 'It can't be a coincidence that McLanahan just waltzes in here-the exact spot where we happen to be keeping his wife and his fighters. He's doing a probe. The faster we get him out of here, the better.'
Fazani walked over to Zuwayy's residence and notified the Republican Guards that he wished to speak with the king. Ten frustrating, aggravating minutes later, Fazani was told the king was unavailable. Not daring to push aside one of Zuwayy's Republican Guards-they were absolute fanatics about security; their lives depended on it- Fazani asked again, and after another ten-minute wait, he was admitted into the king's private residence.
He could see it immediately. Tahir Fazani had known Jadallah Zuwayy for more than fifteen years, including two years in Sudan where Zuwayy got hooked on heroin. He and Hijazi had nursed him, covered for him, threatened him, and cajoled him into giving up the stuff. They thought they had been successful. 'Damn you, Jadallah,' he muttered. 'What the hell is wrong with you? We're going to war with Egypt any day now, and you're up here getting high.'
'What the hell do you want, Tahir?' Zuwayy asked. He was slumped in a chair, drinking something; his head lolled around every now and then as if he were on some sort of sailboat race on the Gulf of Sidra.
'We had a little visit by someone tonight-one Brigadier General Patrick McLanahan.'
'An Anglo? So what? Is he an arms dealer? A mercenary? If not, kick him out of the country and..' Zuwayy stopped and looked at Fazani through bloodshot, bleary eyes and blown pupils. 'Did you say… McLanahan?'
'The woman we have in your interrogation center is his wife' Fazani said. 'He came here to demand we return her and his men to him.'
'And you have him? He actually tried to walk in here and demanded we release the prisoners? Was he deranged?'
'I think it's some kind of setup,' Fazani said seriously. 'I had him taken to the detention center, but I think he should be moved as soon as possible.'
'Moved? Yes, he should be moved-straight to Kazakov,' Zuwayy said. 'This might be our chance to get back in his good graces. Where is he now?'
'The interrogation center,' Fazani said. 'It should be useful for us to interrogate him as much as possible before we turn him over. He might be able to give us a lot of information on Egyptian defenses as well as exactly what he used to attack all our bases. And if we can find out who he works for, maybe they'll pay even more to get him back than Kazakov will.' Zuwayy got unsteadily to his feet; Fazani practically had to catch him to keep him from falling over. 'Why don't you let me handle McLanahan, Jadallah? Give me some time to see what he'll do. If he's as tough as his men we captured, it might be easier just to hand him over to Kazakov; but if we can break him quickly, maybe we can explore alternate opportunities.'
'Ma'lesh, ma'lesh,' Zuwayy said. He returned to his chair and collapsed into it. 'You and Juma take c «re of it. I'll be okay in a few hours.' Fazani was thankful Zuwayy didn't put up a fight about that, and he headed for the door. But just before he left, Zuwayy shouted behind him, 'Wait, Tahir! Did you say you were going to take him to the interrogation center?'
'Na'atn.'
'Did you search him first?'
'Of course. We found disguises, fake travel documents, a gun…'
'What about a radio?'
'We found a radio too.'
'A small one? A very small one?'
Now Fazani was getting anxious. He turned back toward Zuwayy. 'Well… yes, it was small,' he asked. 'Palmsized, smaller than anything I've ever-'
'No, you idiot, I mean small, like a tack or brad!'
'What are you talking about, Jadallah?'
'The woman, the other McLanahan-she had some kind of transceiver implanted in her arm!' Zuwayy shouted. 'If this one has one too…'
'Then they know exactly where he is,' Fazani muttered. 'God… he was doing a probe, and he's led his forces right to us!'
'Get that transceiver off of him-I don't care if you have to cut all his limbs off!' Zuwayy shouted. 'And then evacuate this entire facility right-!'
And at that moment, the first explosion shook the Presidential Palace like an earthquake.
Sirens and alarms sounded everywhere. Zuwayy was immediately escorted-dragged might be more accuratethrough one of the myriad of escape tunnels that led from the Presidential Palace to the Ginayna, the maze of rooms, prisons, and military barracks under the city of Tripoli. He ran virtually headlong into Tahir Fazani and Juma Mahmud Hijazi, also running for their lives.
'Unidentified aircraft detected all around the city,' Fazani said to Zuwayy. 'It looks like a massive attackperhaps the entire Egyptian air force!'
'Get to a phone and commence the rocket attack on Sal-
imah,' Zuwayy shouted. 'I want Salimah destroyed! Now!'
'Forget about Salimah,' Hijazi said. 'Let's just get out of here and regroup at one of the alternate command centers.'
'I will tell the world that the Americans are conducting a preemptive, unprovoked attack on the kingdom,' Zuwayy shouted. 'I must make a television broadcast to the entire nation immediately! And I want the attack on Salimah started right now. I'm going to evacuate and flee the country before everything is destroyed!'
Hijazi looked at Fazani-and they made a silent agreement. 'Good idea, Jadallah,' Hijazi said carefully. 'Tahir will call in the rocket attack. But… before the Americans freeze all our assets and destroy our communications, I should transfer cash from the treasury to our personal accounts. I can do that from the command center. I just need your account numbers and passwords.'
'I can do that myself after I get out-'
'There's no time, Jadallah! You can't use a cell phone to call the banks, and if the Americans take down all the communications facilities, we'll be stuck. If I get your account numbers and pass codes, I can transfer funds
