Page 49 of High Treason
Kord motioned for them to leave the office. Once the door closed, anger creased the prince’s features, and rightly so. Saudi men shieldedtheir women from evil. The threat against Princess Gharam had come as a personal blow, as though he’d failed in his responsibilities.
“It’s Photoshopped,” Kord said.
“True, but I’m ensuring my mother is all right. May I use your phone?” When Kord handed him the device, he selected numbers. “This is Omar. Is my mother resting comfortably?” he said in Arabic. “Tell her I called. I’m requesting another bodyguard for her detail, but keep it from her.” He ended the call and phoned another number. After introducing himself, he continued. “It is imperative I speak to Consul General al-Fakeeh.” A sweep of sadness crossed his face. “Yes, good evening, Nasser. I need additional protection for my mother. Can you send a trusted man to the hospital immediately?” He paused. “Thank you.”
“I think the extra precautionary measures are in order,” Kord said.
“I’d like for you to talk to Miss Alden. Make sure my sisters are all right. If you’re correct about the theory of my phone being hacked, theirs may be too. Ask her to collect their phones per my request. No explanation need be given.”
Kord contacted Monica and explained what had happened.
“Hold on while I take this in my bedroom.” A few moments later, she responded. “Yasmine and I are talking in the common area. Fatima is in her room. Please tell Prince Omar I will do as he asks.”
“Thanks.” Kord would have rather confiscated them, but he’d not embarrass the prince by insisting. “We’ll want to run diagnostics. Can you meet me on the covered terrace in fifteen minutes? Bring the phones with you?”
“I’ll be there.”
“These people have no idea who they’re messing with. Friday afternoon, this guy’s toast.” The call ended, Kord processed the now stronger possibility of a hacker planting a virus in the prince’s phone.
A crack of thunder rattled the windows of the mansion.
WITH THE GROUNDS DRENCHEDin water and dark shadows, Monica walked with Kord along the path they’d trod earlier. Unlike her initial impression of him, she was beginning to enjoy his company and respect his input to the team. Her stomach tingled. Oh, my goodness, she was attracted to him.
Strange. Frightening. And she refused to think about it.
She’d given Kord Fatima’s phone, but Yasmine asked to wait until the morning because hers was charging.
The rain had let up, but the weather forecasters predicted another downpour around midnight. In the northwest part of the city, Cypress Creek had flowed from its banks and into homes. Nature’s fury was no respecter of persons—the rich and the poor needed boats to navigate many of the streets.
The weather added to her wariness about the mission. She’d been threatened by big dogs before, and it always caused two responses—caution and persistence in finding the coward who tossed warnings but refused to expose himself for a head-on fight.
Kord needed to hear the latest from the CIA. “I have news. CIA intel came in from our sources in the Middle East about thirtyminutes ago. It confirmed what your informant claimed,” she said. “The plot to kill Prince Omar has been in existence since his announcement to bring his mother to MD Anderson. Right now I want to know who. The motive, whether it be religion, honor, politics, or whatever, can crawl out of the woodwork later.”
“My informant will be back with me as soon as he has a name. I’m thinking religious dissenters.”
“Because of Wahhabi interpretation of Islamic law?” she said. “Or are you rethinking the conservatives’ opposition to the leasing of oil reserves?”
“Both. But none of the prince’s men are tied to those groups.”
“That we know of.” Her thoughts lingered on the one man who weighed in the heaviest. “If Ali is part of the scheme, Zain’s death would still have made him angry.”
“I was in the limo and he didn’t attempt to stop Zain or me.”
“I feel like my hands are tied, and I’m babysitting when I could be running down terrorist affiliations.”
“You and I are action people. Our roles here can be frustrating unless we can determine if someone has betrayed him, and who.”
They stared back at the mansion. The yellow lights shining through the windows appeared to imitate the owners’ gold.
“Prince Omar has people searching for the ID on a phone hacking, just like we are,” he said. “The expertise of this operation scrapes some of the scum we’ve suspected off our shoes and zeros in on the internal picture. Which may be exactly what the killers want.”
God, we need Your help before others are killed.“Who has the ability to orchestrate an operation of this size and be assured of not failing? Saudi Arabia isn’t known for its leniency to lawbreakers. Will they execute before we have time to question any of their suspects?”
“What do you think?”
“Thought you might have a little clout.”
“I wish. Friday can’t get here fast enough. I’d like to chain the prince to his office. But he’d interpret our request as a coward’s mentality. If the rumors of a mole are designed to send us in the opposite direction, we’re looking at more deaths, and the repercussions could be worldwide.”
