Fatih glanced down at his watch. The conference call would begin in less than two minutes.
“We’ll discuss this later. In the meantime, get our people praying . . .”
He moved quickly down a corridor and into his private study, where his assistant locked the door behind them. This was his sanctuary, a place to renew his faith and regain strength, a bunker where he could distance himself from the toil and strife of an evil world, a world where jihad was an unfortunate necessity. The walls were paneled with the finest cocobolo wood, and he sat in a chair made of zitan, an antique from China’s imperial era. His assistant turned a spotlight on to illuminate the green crescent banner behind his Master. He heard the familiar ring of the VoIP call, and his assistant clicked a button to answer. The flat screen TV hanging on the wall flickered, and he was looking at Ahmet sitting in the council chamber in Cairo.
“
As-salamu alaykum
, Ahmet”
“
Wa alaykum as-salam
, Servant of my Lord.”
“This is bad news,” said Fatih slowly. “The
ummah
is weak and divided. We need peace in order to attain the prosperity required for Islam’s expansion. These amateur distractions by sincere but misguided zealots seeking to secure their own place in Paradise have crossed the line.”
“A point I have been making for a long time, sir.”
“Your views on this issue have been noted yet again, Ahmet. I can assure you that all of us are doing everything we can. What I want to discuss today is your plan for managing this disaster with the religious leaders and the press.”
“The press,” replied Ahmet, “is easy. We simply ignore it, bury it and direct their attention elsewhere like we have done with all such acts of violence for the last fifteen years.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Sir, suppression of the news regarding the attack at Fort Hood several years back was practically one hundred percent in the Middle East. This will be more difficult for obvious reasons, but our office here has been working around the clock to prepare a ten-day news cycle. We have over one hundred columnists throughout the Middle East ready to bombard the public with articles condemning the violence while blaming the West for inflaming tensions with the attacks on Turks in Germany.
“The angle we are taking is to focus on how natural the desire for vengeance is, while at the same time, reminding the faithful that we are the ones who desire peace and that it is the infidel in the House of War that is constantly stirring up strife. I am very confident that our control of the media will be able to prevent this from radicalizing more of the population.”
Ahmet noticed that the corners of his Master’s mouth turned slightly upwards and this put him at ease.
“And what about the religious leaders?”
A dark shadow flickered on Ahmet’s face.
“In our last conversation, you asked us to identify the hotheads and warn them. We have done so, but already we hear that three of them have ignored us and redoubled their efforts. This attack in Turkey will only embolden them more.”
“You’ve never failed us,” said Fatih, “But I think it is time to give you more free rein. As you know, my policy has always been that we do no harm to a Muslim, even the radicals. They are our brothers, and we cannot know how Allah is using even them in the grand scheme. Yet, even they may cross a line. Prepare the bowstrings. Do not let a drop of their holy blood touch the ground, but send a message. I’ll leave the details to you.”
“I know this must pain you deeply, and yet it is the course of righteous wisdom, a necessary sacrifice.”
“Sometimes, people must take the place of sheep as the sacrifice, Ahmet. Now, about the initiative, I hear that heads of state in Sudan and Yemen are starting to grumble. It is very important, especially in light of these terrorist attacks, that the world of Islam present a unified front that calls for peace.”
“Servant of my Lord, we have approached the Sudanese through our contacts in Egypt. They are demanding more funds and they want certain officials cleared of genocide charges related to their war with the Christians in the South.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“They are demanding five hundred million dollars for infrastructure development, but we all know that sixty million put into the right hands will suffice.”
“I’ll have the money transferred today. Confirm receipt, but do not deliver until the concerned officials have signed an official protocol stating their support for the initiative. Half of the money now and half of it after the initiative is implemented. What about Yemen?”
“The Yemeni government is being cowed by radicals, but they have such a limited international presence that we’re not concerned about their impact. The leaders are weak and will not chart their own course in the face of a united front. They want funds as well and concessions from Saudi Arabia, but I do not think we should give in to their demands. They will cave, and just to make sure they do, I’ve arranged a small surprise for them. Two days from now, a Chinese delegation will visit the government and tell them that support for the initiative is a condition for renewing their petroleum contract.”
“Good work, Ahmet. Our steadfastness and resolution will certainly inspire and shame the West into further cooperation and support for the initiative. With the entire Muslim world calling for an alliance of civilizations, they dare not refuse.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now for developments on the Iranian front,” said Fatih. “Our people have ensured that new sanctions will be voted on by the UN Security Council next week. The latest polls continue to show that Westerners increasingly identify radicalism with Iran.”
“Then we should focus on the fact that the terrorist attacks in Turkey were carried out by Hizbullah. The American people will immediately associate it with the Iranian Hezbollah in Lebanon. We’ll even spell it the same way. No one will know the difference.”
Fatih rubbed his chin.
“Yes, good idea. We’ll continue to emphasize Shiite obsession with the Mahdi too. Elites in the West already think apocalyptic beliefs like the second coming of Christ are ignorant religious superstition, so they’ll continue to look at Shiites in the same way.”
“Exactly. Our think tank strategy is also working well.”
“You mean
your
think tank strategy. I’m well-aware of the fact that you were the person who outlined the strategy conference in Dubai three years ago.”
Ahmet bowed his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement of the compliment. Now, he understood why he had been given direct access to the Rightly Guided One. His work was being rewarded. Fatih continued, “The strategy you presented has been implemented meticulously. The upper echelon of the intelligence community has hired at least a dozen of our people to assist in their war on terror. Of course, they all come from organizations with no direct ties to us. They will ensure that American intelligence agencies continue to focus on Iran. In other words, your strategy is paying off. These agencies are cultivating relationships with us to counter Iran, just as you predicted. In fact, one of our enterprising businessmen has run with your idea for t-shirts targeting American conservatives. It has a picture of the Ayatollah with the words ‘Shiite for brains’ printed underneath. They’re selling like palm dates during Ramadan. You will be rewarded in due course.”
“Knowing that I have helped crush the Shia heresy will be reward enough. All we need now is for Washington to realize once and for all that good relations with Muslims means good relations with Sunnis. The only future they have in the Middle East is siding with us against Iran . . .”
Fatih raised his hand to cut him off. He knew how much Ahmet hated Shiites, Alevis and other non-conformist sects, but he didn’t have time right now.
“There is just one last thing, Ahmet. Has the ‘son of prophet’ situation been taken care of?”
“We have the leverage we need to resolve the problem, but we have not yet been able to contact the person holding the document. London’s initial handling was a bit sloppy and that caused some problems, but I’m handling it personally now. There is nothing to worry about. I suspect it will be concluded soon.”
“Make it soon, Ahmet, and make it perfect. This would be a huge blow.”
Fatih terminated the call, turned to his assistant and said, “It will be almost 10:00 am in Washington. Call Senator Giovanni’s office. It’s time I made direct contact. Arrange for the Senator to call me today if he has time. I want to thank him for the generous federal support our charter schools have received and his assistance with not only the Libyan affair but also the UN initiative. Once the freeze on those assets is lifted, make sure he has a nice holiday somewhere in Europe, or Thailand, if that’s the sort of thing he likes.
CHAPTER
44
I
STANBUL
Matt hung up the phone and turned to look at the two brothers sitting on the bed across from him in their room at the Grand Seigneur hotel. The look on his face was a mixture of disbelief, pity and fear.
“What’s wrong, Matt?”
“That was a friend at State, the same guy who issued the yellow notice for your kids yesterday. He said a red notice and a green notice have just been issued by the FBI for Gilbert O’Brien. Apparently, you are being wanted for corporate espionage in a case before the ICSID. Tell me this is bogus.”
Gary turned to his brother.
“Gil?”
His brother’s jaw was clenched and his eyes were slits. But, he said nothing.
“Gil, talk to us. What is this about?”
“It’s about corruption, Gary. Fighting fire with fire and how you can get burned. Matt, I need to know where this originated from. Can you find out?”
“You’re going to have to tell me more than that if you want me going to bat for you. I’m ready to believe you, but I need some details.”
Gilbert spent the next five minutes explaining how files and evidence had been stolen from a French law firm, why he had agreed to find a team that would execute the job, and how somebody within the US government had perpetrated the same crime against Finch and Moreland to help the French. When he was done, Matt just shook his head.
“That’s why I left State. The whole damn thing is too crooked to fix.”
Gary opened his backpack and pulled out a notebook and pencil. He had taken over twenty pages of notes in the last ten hours as he poured over the material Gwyn sent. Gilbert didn’t understand what his brother found so fascinating but was happy to let him research it so that he had more time to spend looking at the files sent by the key-logger.
“If you told Tate you would sit on what you learned, why would he turn you in?” Matt continued.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. If your friend can find out where this all originated, and what role Mike Tate played in it, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Gary pointed at the laptop sitting on the nightstand beside Gilbert.
“Hey bro, would you mind handing me that computer? There are a couple of things I want to look up on the internet.”
Gilbert didn’t seem to hear. Matt hopped up from his chair, retrieved the laptop, and handed it to Gary. He looked around the room. He was restless and wanted something to do.
“When will Gwyn be here?” Matt asked, trying to sound casual.
“Zeki said he’d call us when they arrived.”
“Whoa. Zeki’s with her? You didn’t tell me that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“You said he was ex-MIT.”