Chapter 9.

  The tomb of Tutankhamun had been abandoned now for at least a decade. After the destruction of the Aswan Dam, the Nile had flooded well past Luxor. Almost all of the ancient relics had been destroyed or looted, including all of those in the valley of the kings.

  The tomb still smelled musty, though it had been dry for a very long time. The ancient wall murals were all but completely gone, crumbling into piles on the floor.

  A transceiver sat on the floor, glowing a light blue. Above it, Evander’s hologram hovered silently, listening to the conversation.

  The four ‘brothers’ stood in a circle around the device, their bodies casting eerie shadows on the crumbling walls.

  “Grismon represents a military force larger by far than anything anyone else could possibly muster.” said Haden. “But that’s all. He’s a ‘representative,’ a figurehead. He has no real, personal power. He can’t tell his armies what to do. He can only tell them who they’re going to be working for.

  “He knows his military can’t move without fuel. His country’s resources petered out decades ago, back when the United States was still trying to become ‘energy independent.’ But when that became too cost prohibitive, the population rebelled and Grismon and his crew were forced to go back and make nice with the middle east again. Earlier, when the U. S. quit buying oil from them, it hurt a lot of people in high places. And they haven’t forgotten.”

  “Yes. I recall.” said Amon. “Tell us more of what transpired at the Hague.”

  “Unfortunately there’s not much to tell. A lot of the people with those long memories were there at the conference. The Brits, the Danes, the Germans, no one was in a mood to discuss arms deals, and Grismon was hiding in his room claiming he was not feeling well. I’m convinced he was just plain paranoid. He was afraid to show his face. Since no one knew who set up the attack, no one trusted anyone. Grismon was high on everyone’s list as the probable culprit.

  “Walenberg returned from the last meeting totally frustrated; told me he and his boss were heading to Alexandria to try and cut some sort of deal, and Grismon wasn’t going to be too picky.”

  “Amon tells me it was the Chinese,” said Nahm.

  “Yes. It was their plan to ‘eliminate’ everyone, but Abdullah caught wind of the scheme and turned it to his advantage.” Amon turned toward the hologram.

  “Evander, is there anything you can add to the conversation?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. One of our high-altitude units recorded a small contingent of American ‘special forces’ northwest of Damascus the day before the assassination of the Syrian king. Reports indicate that the Prince had a ‘rendezvous’ with a lady friend close by.”

  “Hmmm,” Broc said. “The Americans to the north, the Chinese to the south and the Syrian leadership right in the middle. Seems like this Prince fellow was pretty busy.”

  “It does seem that he has his own agenda, doesn’t it?” said Amon. “But would he be prepared to have his own father killed?”

  Evander offered another perspective.

  “It seems to me that there were two stabilizing forces within this triangle; the Syrian king, and Abdullah. Traditionally it has been the Arabs who have fomented unrest. But ironically it has been two Arabs who have endeavoured to keep the peace.

  “Here’s a possibility worth consideration. Prince Mujah sees his country becoming more and more isolated. He believes that at some point either he or his father will have to confront their opposition. Their only ‘ally,’ Israel, is already isolated and being threatened with annihilation. He doesn’t want that to happen to him, so if he’s more of a pragmatist than a patriot, he’ll see the advantage in siding with the majority, moral/ethical stance be damned.”

  “Precisely!” said Haden. “What better way to demonstrate his loyalty to the Triumvirate than to undermine the North American Alliance.”