Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 10 (24 page)

 
          
“It
is of no consequence, Minister,” Gazali said quickly. “Salaam may have been the
wife of a public official, but in peacetime the statute is symbolic, nothing
more.” Gazali made some pretense of being needed on the other side of the
podium and scurried away after giving the cleric another nervous bow.

 
          
But
al-Khan could quickly see for himself that this was much more than symbolism—it
was about to happen. A few moments later Gazali stood to address the Assembly:

 
          
“The
Assembly will come to order,” the speaker ordered. When the chamber assumed
some semblance of quiet, the speaker continued, “A motion has been brought
before us by the honorable senior delegate from
Alexandria
that any wife of a public official who dies
while in office may assume her husband’s office for the remainder of his term.
There is considerable debate by the members on whether or not this applies to
the high office of president.”

 
          
Gazali
paused, then glanced at al-Khan. The deadly warning stare he received in return
decided his course for him—Khalid al-Khan was too powerful a force in
Egypt
to be crossed.

 
          
“We
note with pride and affection the love many in our country have for Madame
Salaam,” Gazali went on. “We note that Madame Salaam served
Egypt
well as an officer in the American air
force, advising and supplying our armed forces with vital information, advice,
and counsel during the conflict between
Iraq
and
Kuwait
. She has been a faithful and loving wife to
our beloved president and a friend to us all. We also recognize her countless
contributions to the betterment of Egyptian society, especially her patronage
and support for universal education, the restoration of our ancient libraries
in
Alexandria
, and the rescue and rehabilitation of
orphaned and outcast children in our cities.

 
          
“However,
we question the efficacy of this award as it applies to peacetime
Egypt
,” Gazali said, slowly and deliberately.
“The law was put in place to be sure our legislatures and bureaucracies
continued their work even if its members were killed in battle. Although this
honor has been recently applied many times, we see this as merely symbolic, an
honorific, which is used as a convenience and token of honor until new
elections are held. Further, this custom has never been applied to the office
of president, and well it should not, for fear of eroding the importance of
that high office. Another consideration, of course, is the fact that Madame
Salaam was not bom in
Egypt
, and has not yet qualified to become a
naturalized citizen. Therefore, we do not consider Madame Salaam as meeting the
strict standards of the law, and therefore—”

 
          
The
Assembly chamber erupted into sheer bedlam. It seemed every representative was
screaming and shaking their fists at Gazali. Several lawmakers even got out of
their seats and attempted to rush the podium, but were turned away by uniformed
security officers that appeared as if out of nowhere. No one had ever seen such
an uprising in the Assembly chambers before—and certainly, Khan had never seen
such a loud outpouring of emotion.

 
          
Through
this chaos, Ulama al-Khan made his way off the dais and to a side hallway
toward the back exits. He knew he had lost. The memory of Kamal Ismail Salaam
was too powerful and Susan Salaam was almost as popular in
Egypt
as her husband—perhaps even more so,
because of her bewitching beauty.

 
          
Several
Assembly members siding with Kalir shook their fists, shouted, and even tried
to grab at al-Khan as he made his way off the dais. Supreme Judiciary security
officers, led by the chief of security of the Supreme Judiciary Council, Major
Amr Abu Gheit, who was assigned as al- Khan’s personal bodyguard, roughly
pushed the protesters out of the way, even clubbing one across the head with a
pistol butt.

 
          
What
fools, al-Khan thought. They would actually consider physical intimidation to
try to turn him aside? Several more assemblymen rushed to their colleagues’
aide, but Gheit and the rest of al-Khan’s bodyguards had no trouble subduing
them as the presidential candidate made his way out of the chamber.

 
          
As
he emerged from the chamber into the back hallway, he turned to Gheit: “Take
down the name and political party of any representative who even dared look
angrily in my direction,” he ordered.

 
          
“Why?
So you can have your henchmen kill them as well?”

 
          
Khan
turned. There, standing before him, was Susan Salaam. Her husband’s aide and
national security adviser, Ahmad Baris, was standing with her. A few Assembly
aides and staffers were milling about, fascinated by a confrontation between
these two political rivals.

 
          
“Madame,
it is good to see you alive,” Khan said evenly. Aware of the growing crowd
gathering to watch them, he stepped forward to Susan as if reaching out to
shake her hand, lowered his voice, and said, “But you should not have returned
to
Cairo
. Your life here in
Egypt
is finished. Go back to the
United States
and start a new life.”

 
          
“General
Baris warned me not to return to the capital, to go into hiding until just
before the funeral and to go back into hiding immediately afterward,” Salaam
said, her voice loud enough for all to hear. “But all I could think about was
what happened to us at the celebration, and I knew I had to confront you directly,
to see your face as I accused you directly—”

 
          
“Accuse me? Of what?”

           
“I have been able to piece together
what happened that morning at the mosque. You substituted your own handpicked
Judiciary guardsmen for the presidential guards that normally would have been
on duty during the procession, and you gave them strict orders to always face
the procession, not scan the crowd for any sign of danger. By the time the
assassins were in place, it was too late for them to react to save my husband.”

 
          
“Are
you suggesting that I had something to do with that terrible attack, Madame?”
al-Khan said. “That is purely ridiculous! Why, I was no more than five steps
behind you and your husband—I could have been blown to bits as well! Why would
I put myself in such harm? I even helped pull you clear of danger once I
realized what was happening! You seemed prepared to throw your body in front of
that bomb in a vain attempt to save your husband from his destiny. I gave you
the chance to live.”

 
          
“Maybe
the rumors that you wore a Kevlar bulletproof shroud under your robes are
true—because bystanders farther away than you were severely injured, while you
and that rat-snake Zuwayy walked away unscathed—”

 
          
“Unscathed?
They told me one of my lungs had to be re-inflated, and His Highness King Idris
the Second of Libya suffered flashblindness and loss of hearing that still
lingers! We were lucky to escape with our lives! You actually think we would
have engineered such a sloppy and dangerous assassination attempt in such close
quarters?”

 
          
“I
think you put yourself in just enough harm so no attention would be drawn to
you directly,” Salaam argued.

 
          
“You
are delusional,” al-Khan said, dismissing her with an angry wave of his hand.
“I am glad to see you are alive, Madame, and I pray for you and your late
husband. But I warn you, do not spread false rumors or try to discredit my good
name. There are laws against such activities.”

 
          
“There
are laws against subversion, conspiracy, and treason too, Khan,” Salaam said
bitterly. “But since when have you ever been concerned with the law, except
when it most benefits you? You hide behind your robes and the holy Quran like a
desert scorpion, hopping out into the sunlight just long enough to strike, then
hide in the shadows once again and wait for your victim to die before devouring
him.”

 
          
“Take
great care, woman,” al-Khan warned. “You try my patience.”

 
          
But
Susan hobbled over to block his path. “I will get you for what you did, Khan,”
she hissed. “If it takes my very last breath, I will avenge my husband’s
killer—you and your puppet master, Zuwayy.”

 
          
“Get
out of my way, woman,” Khan ordered. His bodyguards were ready the instant he
made eye contact. They had been staying back, visible but not intrusive,
threatening but not imminently so, but when al-Khan motioned for them, they
moved like coiled snakes. One of them grabbed for Salaam’s cane, the other for
her right arm.

 
          
But
as fast as they moved, Susan was faster. She let the man grabbing her cane pull
her toward him, then merely redirected her momentum slightly, driving the crook
of the cane up into his throat. The hall echoed with the crack of his larynx,
and he collapsed to the floor, clutching his shattered windpipe. Then she
immediately swung the cane with her left hand and cracked it hard against her
second attacker’s right kneecap. Even though she heard more bone crack, the
big, burly bodyguard did not go down, but twisted Susan’s right wrist around
and down, trying to force her to the floor.

 
          
Susan
didn’t resist, but simply twisted faster. The bodyguard lost his grip with a
howl of pain when he tried to put weight on his right leg, sinking down to his
left knee, and Susan was free. She watched and waited. The second bodyguard did
exactly as she thought he would: He reached inside his jacket and pulled out
his side arm, a fearsome-looking Spanish-made Star Z-84 mini-submachine gun.
Susan simply swung the cane as if she were making a two-wood tee shot, aiming
not for the gun but the bodyguard’s head. The
snap!
they heard was the left side of his jaw, and he went down
hard.

 
          
A
stunned Khalid al-Khan stared in amazement at the writhing men at his feet. The
entire fight had lasted only seconds, but both highly trained bodyguards looked
as if they might be in critical condition. “Obviously you have done a lot more
than just be the supportive wife of a president, Madame.”

 
          
Susan
hefted the cane. It was just an oaken cane, but now al-Khan could see that the
crook was larger, its tip was menacingly pointed, and the shaft had decorative
inlays in it that obviously served to help grip the cane in defensive
situations. “A skill taught by some friends from
Nevada
. Weapons—and fighters—are all around you,
Khan.”

 
          
“Are
you insane, woman?” he breathed. “Are you gloating? Look at what you have done!
You’re a madwoman! Or are you trying to live up to your ridiculous nickname,
Sekhmet the Goddess of the Hunt?”

 
          
“I
want you to know that you and I are enemies, Khan,” Susan said, her voice low
but hard as the oak in her cane. “I know you set up the assassination of my
husband, and I know you are using your terror network to force any opposition
into hiding or into silence. I know you are being funded by Zuwayy of Libya,
and I know if you gain the presidency, that you will move to join the Muslim
Brotherhood and force
Egypt
to join an alliance of terror that will cut
off all Western aid and strangle our country. I will do everything in my power
to stop you.” Several security officers ran up to the growing crowd just then.
Both General Baris and al-Khan barked orders at them, but the chief justice of
the Supreme Judiciary’s voice, authority, status, and perceived threat were far
more powerful than Baris’s, and Salaam and Baris were roughly led away.

 
          
They
were met outside by dozens of reporters and cameras, and the security guards
slinked away as Susan and Ahmad approached them. “That was not very wise,
Susan,” Baris said under his breath. “Khan needs only the slightest excuse to
have you arrested, deported—or killed.”