WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1)
Chapter 53
Prince Abdullah Saif Al-Fadir was a man whose presence one could not ignore. He was a proud man. However, his pride had very little to do with snobbery or even being in line to the throne of Saudi Arabia. He had taken pride in raising his children and in loving the wives he married during his youth. An iron fist in a velvet glove was a description that fitted him perfectly. Since Khalid’s father died, Uncle Abdullah had taken care of his nephew and his brothers. He had never demanded of Khalid to return to Saudi Arabia or leave his home in Paris. He knew the family had banished the young prince nearly twenty years ago for indiscretion and for having the gall to oppose the decision of marrying the woman they had chosen for him. Uncle Abdullah had settled a trust on Khalid, which saw his nephew live comfortably in Paris and raise his daughter, Aisha. Since his exile, Khalid had kept in touch with his uncle and considered him as a good man.
Khalid was reading the paper when he heard a knock at the door of his suite. He looked at his watch—2:10PM—and went to open the door.
“Come in, Uncle. How are you?” He closed the door.
“I am tired, Khalid, but other than that, I should say, I am in good health.” He went to sit on the chair, but not before he had taken his overcoat off. Khalid took it from him and put it down on the sofa.
“What about you? Have you been able to meet with Ms. Kartz while you were in Vancouver?”
Khalid sat down opposite his uncle. “I’m afraid not.”
“Ha! Such a long journey for naught. Do you know if she is alright at least?”
“She is, I’m happy to say, even more so now that she knows an operation on her spine is possible.”
“You mean she might regain the use of her legs? But that’s wonderful…!”
“Yes, Uncle, it was news worthy of a thousand praises to Allah.”
“You say words of happiness but your face doesn’t show me the joy you should feel. What concerns you then?”
Khalid put his elbows on his knees and didn’t look up for a moment. “Until your friend, Mr. Sadir is behind bars, we cannot rest, Uncle, and Talya’s life is still in danger.”
“For all the shame that I feel right now, it does not equate my fear, Khalid.”
Khalid looked up. “What is your fear? Do you fear for your life as well?”
Uncle Abdullah shook his head. “I do not fear for my life, Allah knows that my heart is clean, Khalid, but I am in fear of what could be concluded from my friendship with Muhammad Sadir.”
“And what would that conclusion be, Uncle?” Khalid asked.
“Since Muhammad is now accused to have conspired to kill the CIA agent and to have attempted the assassination of Ms Kartz, I could be seen as the responsible party to the two felonies. Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, our family could be viewed as instigator of crimes against two Israelis.”
“And since the two assaults occurred after the Zurich incident, one could assume that you had taken reprisals against Agent Slimane and Ms Kartz.”
Uncle Abdullah nodded emphatically. “Precisely, Khalid. And there is something else that has been bothering me...”
“What else could there be? I should think this first proposition would be enough to bring you anxiety.” Khalid sounded together annoyed at this new twist in the affair and concerned for his uncle.
“Does the name Thomas mean anything to you?”
The question mark on Khalid’s face told his uncle he had no idea who he was talking about. “I can’t say that I do, no.”
“What about Peterson?” Khalid shook his head. He straightened up and leaned against the back of the chair. “Well…, Thomas Peterson is a young CIA agent whose name was mentioned twice, I believe, when the CIA sent me this secretary from their offices, which person I had in my employ until the OPEC conference in Zurich.”
“I remember the secretary, yes, but I don’t see the connection...”
Uncle Abdullah raised a hand. “Let me explain. When I returned to Saudi after the Zurich incident, I checked a little further in the man’s past. He had supposedly been employed by a couple of people in the UAE and came with good references. Yet, his leaving me stranded at the airport in Zurich left me with nothing but doubt as far as his trustworthiness was concerned. However, when I came to Paris to meet with you and when you explained who was responsible for the slight embarrassment I suffered at the time, I decided not to waste my time with the fellow.”
“…and that until the name Muhammad Sadir came under scrutiny...”
“Precisely. And that’s when I found out that we had received a couple of emails from Thomas Peterson—this CIA agent—advising my secretary of the dates at which I should be in Zurich and he, in return, sending details to Muhammad Sadir of my movements from that point on.”
Khalid lifted an eyebrow. “And you think Muhammad Sadir planned your assassination all the time?”
“I don’t see any other explanation. But this also brings me back to my first proposition, which could describe me as the instigator of Agent Slimane’s assassination and of Ms Kartz’s attempted murder.”
“But why did you say you’re afraid for Agent Peterson’s life?”
“Don’t you see? He’s the one who sent the instructions to that secretary but there’s no proof that he acted on Sadir’s orders.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure, Uncle. Did you bring copies of these emails with you?”
“Yes, of course. They’re in my suite... Shall I go get them?”
“Don’t trouble yourself for now. We’re due at Mr. Van Dam’s office in a half-an-hour, we’ll see what he has to offer before we come bearing gifts.”