Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 10 (66 page)

 
          
Susan
stepped up to the microphone, waited a few moments for the cheers and shouting
to subside, then touched her forehead with the fingertips of both hands, took a
deep breath, and sang, “
Ash-Hadu anla
elaha illa-allah wa ash- hadu anna Muhammadan rasul-Allah!
I bear witness
that there is none truly to be worshiped but Allah, and I bear witness that
Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.”

 
          
The
crowd burst into insane cheering and applause. Susan raised her hands and
repeated the words of the
Sha-hada
,
the testimony of faith, but her words, even amplified, were easily drowned out
by the cheering crowd.

           
Zuwayy was thunderstruck. She had
done it: She had stolen this conference, this demonstration of his power,
cleanly away from him. He might as well have closed the ceremonies and given
her the mantle of presidency.

 
         
It
was not until after the closing ceremonies that Zuwayy could finally see her
alone in his palace office. He meant to have her wait for him in his office to
at least try to reassert some control in their discussions, but since the media
had followed Salaam to this meeting, Zuwayy had to make a show of welcoming her
to his palace and showing her some of its antiques, treasures, and artifacts of
Libyan history.

 
          
He
quickly dropped all pretext of friendship with her once they were alone in his
office. “So, Mrs. Salaam, you’ve had quite a week here. You have the entire
world eating out of your hand.” Minister of Arab Unity Hijazi and Chief of the
General Staff Tahir Fazani were also on hand with Zuwayy; General Ahmad Baris,
Salaam’s defense minister, and Captain Amina Shafik, Susan’s new chief of
staff, accompanied her.

 
          
“I
think it was a most successful conference, Your Highness,” Salaam said, “thanks
to you and your staff.”

 
          
“No,
no, no—I think the credit all goes to you, Madame President,” Zuwayy retorted
irritably. “Everywhere I went I heard cries of ‘Republic! Republic!’ and ‘Queen
Susan!’ You must be very pleased with your newfound popularity, Madame.”

 
          
“I
am proud and happy that our people are starting to think and speak as one, Your
Highness,” Salaam said, wearing her most diplomatic smile and tone of voice.

 
          
“I’m
happy that you’re happy, ‘Queen’ Salaam,” Zuwayy said.

 
          
Susan’s
smile never dimmed—but Ahmad Baris’s eyes narrowed in concern. “Have we done
something to offend you, Highness?” he asked.

 
          
“Of
course not,” Zuwayy replied curtly. He looked as if he was going to sit at his
desk, but swung the chair out of his way and continued to pace around his desk.
“But it seems I’m being forced to remind a lot of folks here this week that the
Muslim Brotherhood doesn’t seek a republic. Our purpose is not to form one
nation or even a federation of nations. Our purpose, Madame, is to assist Arab
governments in forming and maintaining a
Shura
,
a government based on Islamic law. We don’t want to go through the trouble of
erasing centuries of history for our member nations—we only want to encourage
and assist governments in embracing Muslim holy law in its activities. Do you
understand, Madame?”

 
          
“Yes,
Highness,” Susan replied. “I understand perfectly.” She did not take her eyes
off him, and the smile remained as well, which only served to make Zuwayy
angrier. “Is there something specific you wished of me, Highness?”

 
          
“Wish?
What do I
wish?
I’ll tell you what I
wish, Queen Salaam!”

 
          
“What
His Highness is trying to say, Madame President,” Juma Hijazi interjected,
glancing at Zuwayy, hoping that he could keep his anger in check for just a few
more minutes, “is that His Highness is still waiting for a conclusion to the
contract between yourself and the Central African Petroleum Partners for the
kingdom’s share of the partnership. As you remember, Madame, you said that in
exchange for His Highness’s support during your elections, the kingdom would
receive a one-third share of the partnership—”

 
          
“It
wasn’t one-third, Minister, it was thirty percent,” General Baris interjected.

 
          
“One-third,
thirty percent—it’s all the same damn thing,” Zuwayy retorted.

 
          
“You’re
right, General—it was thirty percent,” Hijazi said. “But the fact is, the
agreement has not been concluded.
Egypt
has graciously and effectively opened its
borders to many Arab nations and instituted the work visa program in record
time, which has helped tens of thousands of workers from all over the Arab
world. It is a shining example of the spirit of cooperation that we hope to
continue.”

 
          
“Thank
you, Minister.”

 
          
“But
what about the rest of it?” Zuwayy interjected hotly. “Part of the deal was a
third of the partnership, a third of the revenues. We haven’t seen a dinar yet.
If you try to back out of the deal now, Salaam, you’ll find yourself at the
bottom—”

 
          
“Do
you have some explanation for the delay, Madame Salaam?” General Fazani
interjected before Zuwayy could threaten Salaam’s life right in front of
witnesses.

 
          
“I’m
sure there’s a reasonable explanation, Majesty,” Baris offered.

 
          
“Yeah?
What is it, Baris?”

 
          
“Perhaps
it is that you haven’t paid for it yet, Majesty,” Susan said. Her smile never
wavered, but her eyes suddenly lit up in slow-burning anger.

 
          
“Paid
for it?”

 
          
“Majesty,
the CAPP cartel invested a total of three point six billion U.S. dollars toward
the project,” Baris said. “
Egypt
has promised in writing to grant the
kingdom
of
Libya
one-third of its shares in the partnership,
but only if
Libya
agreed to purchase one-fourth of the shares owned by the cartel. That
requires an investment by the
kingdom
of
Libya
of nine hundred million U.S. dollars.”

 
          
“What?
You expect me to pay a bunch of
fat-cat Western oil companies almost
a
billion dollars
for oil that belongs to
me!
”

 
          
Hijazi
couldn’t stop Zuwayy from stating his claim to the Salimah oil fields, but both
Salaam and Baris pretended not to notice what he said. “I think what His
Highness is saying, Madame,” Hijazi interjected, “is that perhaps we can come
to some sort of accommodation.”

 
          
“What’s
that?”

 
          
“Allow
us to pay our fee to the cartel out of our share of the oil revenues,” Hijazi
said. “It can be paid over, say, five years—they can take it right off the top
of our share. We will even agree to pay a reasonable interest rate—it can be a
loan of sorts, secured with the oil revenues from Salimah.”

           
Susan paused for a moment, then
nodded. “I don’t think the Central African Petroleum Partners cartel would
object, Minister,” Susan said.

 
          
Hijazi
and Fazani breathed long sighs of relief, smiled, and nodded at each other.
“That’s good news, Madame President. I think that we—”

 
          
“But
I
object,” Susan added.

 
          
The
Libyan ministers’ mouths dropped open. Zuwayy was stunned—he couldn’t believe
what he had just heard. To the Libyan ministers’ surprise, they noticed that
even Ahmad Baris had a shocked look on his face. “Madame President, you . . .
you are saying you will not accept a payment option based on our revenues? I
don’t understand.”

 
          
“It
is quite obvious, Minister,” Susan said, looking directly at Zuwayy, her smile
gone. “
Libya
made this deal by threatening
Egypt
with war if we did not agree to your
demands. You have no right to any part of the Salimah project—it is not your
land, nor did you invest in any part of the production infrastructure. Yet I
accepted your demand, even though I felt my country was under duress, because I
wanted peace and prosperity for all of
Egypt
’s neighbors. I made only one request—that
you reimburse the European cartel for their shares in payment for their
substantial investment in the project. That was more than fair—it was the right
thing to do.

 
          
“Now,
as
Libya
has done before, you are reneging on your promise. Not only do you
demand the shares that
Egypt
was going to give you for free, but you
then demand that you take the next six years to reimburse the European cartel
for their shares. This tells me one thing: that Libya cannot be trusted, that
Libya—no, that
you three
— want
nothing more than to rape and steal from your own country.”

 
          
“What did you say?”
Zuwayy thundered,
his eyes bulging in sheer fury. “How dare you? How
dare
you accuse me of such a thing? I will have you executed!”
Zuwayy lunged for his desk drawer. Fazani, knowing exactly what he was reaching
for, used his body to keep the drawer closed. “Get out of the way, Fazani! I’m
going to kill this Anglo bitch for what she’s just said!”

 
          
“No,
Jadallah!”

 
          
“I
said, get out of the way—”

 
          
“Madame
Salaam,” Hijazi said quickly, “I strongly urge you to immediately and sincerely
retract that statement and beg His Majesty’s forgiveness.”

 
          
“I
will not,” Salaam said, rising to her feet. She kept her hooked-crook cane in
her hands, as if keeping it at the ready—Hijazi knew what she could do with
that cane—but stood calmly right in front of Zuwayy’s desk while he still
grappled with Fazani.

 
          
“You’re
dead
!” Zuwayy shouted. “You are
dead!
Yours will be the shortest
presidency in Egyptian history. Your husband will look like Adonis compared to
what your body will look like after I get done with it!”

 
          
“Good
day, ‘King,’ ” Susan said, making an exaggerated bow. “Don’t worry about your
people—they will be perfectly happy in
Egypt
. Where do you think you’ll be headed next?
I think
Brazil
is nice this time of year.”

 
          
“Get
out!” Zuwayy cried out. “And I’d make sure you know where your bomb shelters
are in
Cairo
—you’ll need them!” Salaam and Baris
departed, with Shafik backing toward the door right behind them, her right hand
invisible under her jacket. “I want her dead, Fazani!” Zuwayy shouted after
they departed.

 
          
“You
can’t kill Salaam now, Jadallah—she’s more popular than God right now,” Fazani
said. “If anyone finds out you put out a contract on her, we won’t even be able
to hide in
Brazil
. We’ll have to live in
Antarctica
.”

 
          
“I
don’t want a piece of Salimah anymore—I want the whole damned thing destroyed!”
Zuwayy shouted. “That American bitch has insulted me for the last time!” His
eyes spun wildly as he thought. “Launch the attack immediately.”

           
“Jadallah, only a few hundred of
the twenty thousand- plus Libyans working there now have returned,” Hijazi
said. “You can’t attack now! We’d be slaughtering our own people!”