Page 7 of High Treason
For over a year, she’d served coffee to customers while monitoringand recording conversations. When he read her résumé, he’d see her background. His objections should dissipate with her experience. “The real question is who’s behind the attempt on the prince’s life today.”
“Rhetorical, don’t you think?”
She read on. A description of Prince Omar’s private jet played into his reputation for being extravagant: a Boeing 747-400, $500 million. She couldn’t imagine such luxury, a flying five-star hotel.
Did she really have the confidence for this assignment? Never mind. If she wanted to raise her status and prove her value to the CIA, then she had to give 200 percent. But how quickly could she grasp the unique skills to help keep the prince and his family alive?
God, while I’m giving the impression of knowing how to handle Prince Omar’s security with my confidence at zero, I need You desperately. Poke my heart when I’m about to mess up. And please pick up the pieces when I fall.
KORD WHIPPED HIS CHARGERinto the parking lot of the retail shopping strip housing Frozen Rock and parked next to an HPD barricade. Officers covered the area, lights flashing. A TV van with a camera crew and reporter were live on the scene. Monica appeared to take in every detail of the gathered crowd and investigators, her face a mass of concentration.
He fought the frustration inching up his spine about the ludicrous situation between the CIA and the FBI. Did they believe Zain’s death was his fault? And it was Kord who’d not stopped Zain’s killer? Were his thoughts his own insecurity about not following his instincts this morning and avoiding Zain’s death?
Kord had the ability to protect Prince Omar and didn’t need anyone to help him. The prince would not be pleased with the arrangement. His—
Kord halted his thoughts midstream. Why waste brain cells? Prince Omar would ignore Monica and rely on him. She mighthave impressive skills, but she was still a woman, and the Saudis lived in a gender-segregated culture.
Under normal circumstances, he’d be attracted to the little woman beside him with the long blonde hair. Blue eyes. Super hot. Super smart or she’d not be in her position. But the situation was super irritating.
“The elephant between us refuses to eat my peanuts,” she said with her attention on the phone.
“The elephant is a Saudi prince who has a distinct opinion about a woman’s role.”
“He’s in the US. Our turf. Our terms.”
“Can’t change his beliefs because he has a temporary address.”
“Look. I’m aware of Middle Eastern culture. For the record, I’ve used it to my advantage. Makes me wonder who has the biggest problem with it, you or Prince Omar?”
“A man would have his respect.”
“And yours?”
“I’m not sexist.”
“Are you sure?” She dropped her phone into her bag. “Both of you will have to get over it. I have the assignment, and I intend to work it.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “You have no idea how hard this will be.”
“I’ll manage.”
He sensed her eyes drilling a hole into him. “Are you planning my demise?”
“No. We have our differences, but I’m thinking about the day. I’m sorry your friend Zain was killed.”
“Thanks.” Later he’d manage his grief. He’d been assigned to Prince Omar before Zain was killed, and he wanted to see the case to the end, find the killer, and protect the prince on his ownterms. Not necessarily the best attitude, but he owned it. Mr. Ego himself.
Monica would learn in a few short hours about Prince Omar’s beliefs. Kord banked on her quitting before the day was over—unless she was made of tougher stuff.
The House of Saud had a hierarchy according to each family member’s status. Prince Omar’s ranking fell in the middle range of importance. His life and experiences were worlds apart from Kord’s, but they remained solid friends, a man whom Kord had trusted in the past. Western media depicted the prince as always in search of a good time. When Kord had been in Riyadh, he’d experienced a caring side of the prince with his immediate family and regard for those he met. He showed devotion to his two wives and seven sons.
“Kord, what’s your gut take on the prince’s agenda?” Monica said. “Are his plans contributing to what happened?”
“It’s more about which one of our joint enemies pulled the trigger today.”
“Should I ask who despises us and the Saudis this week?”
“Who doesn’t?”
