Page 9 of High Treason
“The owner here gave us permission. But we found nothing. City cams might show something.”
“Thanks. Call me if you find anything.”
“Will do. Good to meet you, Agent Alden.”
Kord walked outside with her. “Those kids were in school when the shooting took place. This could have been a bloodbath. Makes me sick thinking about it.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Monica said. “A student or a member of the faculty could identify the killer. Another course of danger. Has anything turned up in the interviews?”
“Nothing solid yet. The arrangements to visit here were done in Riyadh. How did the sniper know the exact time we’d be there? That’s the big question.”
“Not if Prince Omar has someone on his team who betrayed him.”
“The prince has conducted extensive background checks on his bodyguards and staff. Impossible.”
“Anyone can be bought,” she said.
“Prince Omar’s men are loyal. Zain died for him today.”
“Really? Money talks big.”
Her cynicism brought out the worst in him. “I told you this partnership wouldn’t work. You know nothing about a brotherhood of loyalty.”
For a fraction of a second, a flicker of anger crossed her eyes. Monica instantly reverted to her professional mode, the one they all practiced consistently. No emotion. End the crime. Do your job.
“Don’t pitch your chauvinism at me. I’ve been where I wouldn’t want anyone to go.” She crossed her arms, then dropped them at her sides. “Ninety percent of our discussions are arguing. We can verbally kill each other or try to get along. Which will it be?”
An hour at the prince’s home, and she’d resign. “We could be more civil.”
“Thank you,” she said.
They walked to his car, where privacy was their closest companion. “I’m listening,” she said.
“ISIS, al-Qaeda, and every terrorist group in between are supporting or taking responsibility for what happened.” He hesitated. “Someone paid for precise results. Once we know why, then we can nail the who.”
“Or the other way around.” She sighed. “Think about where we’d be right now if the sniper had been successful and killed Prince Omar.” She shook her head. “That was unfeeling when your friend is gone.”
He peered into her blue eyes. She looked the farthest from a CIA operative, more like a J.Crew model. If he wasn’t careful, she’d be in the thick of his thoughts. “Every national security agency in the country is on this—checking through data on those with known terrorist affiliations.” But she knew that. “The high stakes of an operation like this point to a disaster of not only alienating Saudi but also their publicly joining some of our growing list of enemies.”
“We’re on the same page.”
“We’ll know more after we talk to investigators across the street. Later on we’ll have a security meeting with the prince at the Saud home. Prince Omar could very well have a suspect in mind by then and give us a name to question and end the killings. Are you familiar with Saudi etiquette?”
“Enough to get by.”
He smiled, couldn’t help himself. “I was afraid of that. Follow my lead, and if in doubt—”
“Women aren’t equal to men. I know my place.”
“You’re left-handed?”
“I’m ambidextrous. Kord, I’m familiar with how Muslims view left-handed people. I know to use my right. Your second-guessing my skills is getting old.”
If Kord was to work with Monica on any level, she deserved his respect. “Just being sure.”
“I’ll do my best to take a crash course in appropriate manners. My first priority is Prince Omar’s safety. What I don’t want is to discredit the US in his eyes.”
She’d learn the realities soon enough. He almost felt sorry for what was about to transpire. Not her fault. Convincing Prince Omar of her abilities meant combating hundreds of years of Muslim culture derived from a literal translation of the Quran. Impossible.
