Page 135 of High Treason
Wednesday arrived and Monica’s temp dropped to 99.6. Reason to celebrate. The cough was a nuisance. She had sore stomach muscles, ones she never knew existed.
Houston’s security camera footage indicated Youssof had been in the city twenty-eight hours after his family believed he’d left for Iraq. Footage showed him alone, but the search for accomplices continued.
Fatima and Yasmine visited their mother during the morning hours while Monica stayed at the Saud home like an invalid. The two young women confided in Monica about the steady decline of their mother’s health. Their good-byes were tearful, as though each time might be the last. Princess Gharam fought hard, but her strength waned.
After returning from the hospital, Kord accompanied Prince Omar along with three bodyguards to Saudi Aramco. The meeting ran smoothly, according to Kord.
She despised this wretched healing process.
She studied secure CIA websites to catch the latest news since the revelation of Malik’s involvement in the assassination plot. A coughing spasm hit, and she clutched her chest. Then took a dose of medicine before diving back into her research. The CIA, along with the Saudis, had people on the ground in Iran running down names and suspects. None of it had hit the media forefront. Yet.
The one thing cementing her sanity came with the rodeo event on Thursday. She’d be out of the house and working again. Prince Omar had reservations about her participation. Serious ones. But it would take cuffs, chains, and a locked cell to keep her from being at NRG Stadium.
A few positives—no further attempts on the prince’s life, and she was determined to see this mission through to the end.
The negatives took a frightful stand. Jafar was hiding. Rere fled Iran to Saudi Arabia due to death threats. Malik refused to talk. Only a fool would believe the turmoil had ended.
Late afternoon, she made her way to the common area, where Fatima and Yasmine were busy with their phones. The younger woman glanced up, wearing despair like another veil. Monica recognized the immaturity.
“Yasmine, if you let Malik’s treachery wall up your heart, he won in destroying at least one member of the Saud family.” From Monica’s experience, that kind of bitterness did no one any good. Perhaps it was only a temporary defense mechanism. “If you fuel your soul with hate, your heart will blacken.”
“How do I rid myself of it?”
“Forgive him and yourself,” Monica said.
“I’m trying. Never thought I’d feel so much hate and pain.”
“I’m praying for you.”
Yasmine thanked her. She kept her head high and not a tear was shed.
The quiet in the house was like living in the eye of a storm.
When she woke on Thursday morning, her temp held steady at 99.2. She had one thought on her mind—that afternoon was Prince Omar’s rodeo event. He’d invited a group of oil and gas businessmen to fill a private suite with catered food and nonalcoholic beverages. No expense spared. In fact, the prince had to pay extra because of not serving alcohol.
Friday morning he had an appointment with Shell to discuss leasing Saudi oil reserves.
Jafar had disappeared, and the reality made her nervous. While today’s guests would dine on fine food, watch rodeo activities, and listen to the rich voice of country-western star Keith Urban, those entrusted to the prince’s protection stood by on alert.
For sure she’d not be bored, and what she needed was energy and strength.
Snatching her phone from the nightstand, she pressed in Kord’s number. “Got a minute?” she said.
“What’s up?”
“My guess is Jafar knows what I look like, as well as any other players. I can balance the situation in our favor by letting them think I stayed behind. You go on without me, and I’ll meet you there.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s supposed to rain, and your lungs aren’t clear.”
“Says who? I don’t have a fever.”
“How can I talk you out of this?”
“Impossible.”
“Figured so.” He sighed, and she knew it was for her benefit. “Will I recognize your getup?”
“Never know. Arrange for a pass at will call under the name of Kay Bronson. I’ve used it before and have ID. Can you request a car and driver from the FBI?”
