Page 41 of High Treason
“Probably not.”
AT THE SAUD HOME,Kord requested a private meeting with Prince Omar. The past two days of chaotic events had them all sifting through facts and opinions. Until they were able to narrow the list of those with motive, the protection detail took the role of defense. He’d do whatever it took to stop the killer and stand in the way of a bullet. Not a good position for Kord or the prince and his men, especially with rising tempers and suspicions.
Prince Omar gestured for him to sit in his office beside a small table that offered coffee, fruit, and dates. Kord welcomed the caffeine to fuel his mind, but he passed on the food.
“Has the man who posed as Consul General al-Fakeeh’s driver been apprehended?” Prince Omar said.
“No, Amir. A limo matching the description of the one at the hospital was found a few blocks away in a parking garage. Inside were the man’s clothes and a fake beard. Doubtful we find fingerprints.” He pressed his lips together to avoid audible irritation. Butwhy hide his feelings? “Consul General al-Fakeeh and I worked with an FBI sketch artist. I don’t think it will push us ahead in finding the man. Only a fool would show his real face, and we came up empty with facial recognition from the hospital’s security cameras.”
“I’ve never seen you cynical.”
“And you?”
“The men you interviewed are currently attending their duties, so they’re cleared?”
“For the moment.”
He sighed. “My mother’s treatment begins tomorrow. I wanted her shielded from this, but she’s a smart woman. Quite capable of putting information together.”
To be suffering from cancer and know her son was in danger had to be depressing. “I’m sorry. Were you able to calm her?”
“Dr. Carlson prescribed a sedative.” Prince Omar took a drink of his coffee.
“After today, don’t you think it best to send your sisters home?”
“Mother would be very upset, enough to hinder her recovery.”
“How would she react if they were killed?”
Prince Omar stood and paced the room. “Fatima and Yasmine are my responsibility, and—”
“They have a father.”
“He’s more concerned with his younger children.”
“There must be someone who’d protect them until you return.”
Prince Omar stopped his pacing. “No one in whom I’d feel confident with the current turmoil. For now, they will remain with me.” He made his way to his chair and eased down. “I want to talk to you as a friend.”
“What else is going on?”
“You know I’m here to arrange leases for oil reserves. It’s important to the economic future of my country, and I will do everythingI can to make sure the negotiations are positive. Too long the world has seen me as Prince Omar who spends money on Western indulgences and expensive race cars.” He smiled. “And I do value my collection.” He leaned forward. “I want my reputation changed to be Prince Omar bin Talal, the man who helped bring business prosperity to his country. It’s wrong for me to pray and not follow the Quran. No more carrying the title of a playboy.” He folded his hands. “I want to leave a legacy like King Abdullah. His reforms and economic policies have kept our country moving forward. The energy minister has made strides in balancing supply and demand. My desire is to offer support in every way possible. Many of my countries’ leaders are working to lower the unemployment rate while adding more women to the workforce. Lessening our dependency on oil means leasing from our reserves. For me, no sacrifice is too large.”
“What are your plans to make this happen other than meetings with Shell and Exxon?”
“Two additional things: I’m arranging an invitation-only press conference here at the home to make the announcement of Saudi Arabia working more closely with our American business friends. Secondly, I’m hosting an event at the rodeo with many oil and gas executives. There I’ll announce the negotiations in progress to buy a US company that focuses on shale.”
“Excellent news, but I’m sure the conservatives are—”
“Highly critical. That’s at home. I left the opposition there. Then I walk into a snake pit.”
Kord placed his cup on the table, thoughts swirling with the prince’s announcement. The ideals were exemplary. But he’d heard the rumors, and many Saudi citizens were not happy to work for less money while the country built its economy. More suspects in the plot. “Who else is aware besides Malik?”
“Ali.”
“Do you think they would have sabotaged your plans?”
“When happenings like today make little sense, I must look to any possible adversary. But not Ali or Malik. They’d die for me. They understand I’ll give my life to make positive changes for my country.”
