“I think you’re doing well,” Bash replied. He moved to stand beside Sean’s chair, then clasped his shoulder supportively. He’d have preferred to pull Sean into his arms and hold him, but that, unfortunately, was out of the question. “Continuing Faisal’s policies is the wisest course at this point. Besides, you don’t know who you can trust among all these ambitious men with their own agendas. Not yet, at any rate.”
“True,” Sean said. “But I agree with Majid’s position. He wants to shift some of the oil exports to a competitive market, then use the money gained to beef up Akkadia’s infrastructure for transportation. Amir would prefer to keep the status quo because the agreement with the Americans and NATO for oil brings with it certain concessions for the purchase of defense materiel. Akkadia has access to things our nearest neighbors do not, since the country has agreed to be a stabilizing influence and to not allow terrorists to operate within its borders. Yet providing better roads and public transportation would serve the citizens of Akkadia better than more planes and weapons.”
Bash frowned in thought. “I see your point, but I agree that changing things without full knowledge is risky.” He smiled crookedly. “Not to mention that personally, I’m on the side of more planes and weapons, given Akkadia’s geopolitics. I imagine Faisal walks a tightrope every day, trying to keep a balance between all the factions and factors.”
Sean stood up. “I have to keep kicking the can down the road until either my grandfather wakes up and returns to ruling or we discover the identity of the traitor. And in that case, I hope it is done quickly, so that in the event of his death, we can be sure whoever takes the throne won’t destabilize the entire country or result in a civil war.”
Bash could tell Sean was trying to be positive, but as a doctor, Sean was well aware of the grimness of Faisal’s condition. “Fingers crossed — and eyes and ears open,” he replied.
“Indeed.” Sean smiled slightly. “I think I’d like to walk in the garden to clear my head.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They walked through the palace corridors, Bash remaining a respectful two paces behind. The normal business of the day continued, with servants going about their duties, bowing to Sean as he passed. Sean acknowledged each person, even though Sean wasn’t comfortable with such deference. Sean said it was one thing to be treated with respect because of his position as a doctor, but being bowed to because of an accident of birth was unsettling.
They reached the garden, and it was cooler than Bash expected in the sheltered, shaded pathways among the fountains. It was good to be outside, although Bash was wary because of all the windows overlooking the grounds. Any of them could contain a sniper just waiting to end Sean’s life, so he was watchful as they walked. Most of the windows were closed, but a few were open, no doubt to allow in the heady fragrance of the flowers.
As they circled, they moved from the side of the building that served as the royal family’s quarters to the wing that housed the branches of government. It was doubtless a holdover from the times before video conferencing, when the rulers of Akkadia would have required their ministers to be close at hand at all times. Given it was nearly lunchtime, there was a great deal of activity going on among the offices.
A door on the government side opened, and Bash tensed, then relaxed slightly when he recognized Mansur walking toward them. He bowed to his nephew, then motioned for Sean to keep walking.
“What is it?” Sean asked, his body posture tense. “Grandfather?”
“No. No change in that regard,” Mansur replied. He didn’t look back over his shoulder, though his next words were obviously meant for Bash. “Nick called on my secure, untraceable landline. He would like for you to call him back on the same line. Apparently he has information he doesn’t want to impart over the cellphone network, even encrypted.”
Bash’s paranoia ratcheted up a few levels. His personal phone automatically encrypted calls between himself and Fortress, so whatever Nick had to tell him went beyond normal operational security. “Then he’s worried someone may be tapping both Sean’s number and mine. That’s not good.”
“No.” Mansur’s voice was a growl. “You both need to come to my office, but we need to make it seem casual.”
They continued to walk, Mansur making some small talk to Sean about the gardens, before they veered off to enter the government offices. Mansur kept up a stream of talk — in English, fortunately for Bash — about the various government offices they passed and their function. They reached the Ministry of Intelligence at last, and Mansur escorted Sean into the secure area, which involved door codes and retinal scans. A security guard issued both Sean and Bash badges before Mansur led them into this private office.
“Please, sit down,” he said, indicating the comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk. Then he unlocked a steel container on the top of his desk, which contained a landline phone that Bash recognized as the kind Nick used in Fortress’s headquarters. Mansur raised a brow at Bash. “No doubt you are familiar with how this works.”
“Intimately,” Bash replied. He was close enough to reach for the phone, so he picked up the handset and pressed the keys to activate the encryption mode. He regarded Mansur, then put the phone in speaker mode before dialing Nick’s private secure number.
“Hello, Bash,” Nick greeted them after only a single ring. “I’m glad you could get back to me so quickly.”
“Of course,” Bash said. “I have Mansur and Sean here as well. Were you able to identify the traitor?”
“Not yet,” Nick said, and Bash could hear the tension in his voice. “He’s being remarkably cagey about revealing his hand. But there’s something you need to know. Going over the data Mansur sent us, we got a hit on someone who entered Akkadia about three months ago under an alias, but has since fallen off the radar. We think he’s still in the country, and smart bets are that he’s working with the traitor. He might even be part of a team. If so, this is bigger than we thought and a lot more dangerous.”
“Who?”
“Arseny Carapov.”
Bash felt as though the temperature in the room had dropped fifty degrees. “Deadhand?”
Carapov was one of the most lethal assassins in the world. Bash had never run up against him personally, but he’d read Nick’s dossier on the man. His speciality was in distant high-level target assassinations, which explained why even Mansur hadn’t been able to keep Faisal safe. It meant that nowhere outside of the palace was safe. And if Carapov was the one who’d gone after Faisal, no doubt he was coming for Sean next.
“Well, that’s where we get the very bad news. After we sent them our information about Carapov, Interpol got lucky and found a money trail. It took them until now to trace it back to the source. It’s not coming from within Akkadia. There’s definitely an inside man helping them, but this is about more than just Akkadia.”
“Tell me.” Bash’s mouth was dry, because even as he asked, he felt he already knew the answer.
“Wagner Group.” Nick said, his tone dark.
Sean frowned. “Who in the world are they?”
“Russian thugs,” Bash said harshly. “They’re like an even more twisted group than Blackwater was in the US. They’re mercenaries in the pay of Russia, though Moscow denies it. They do all the dirty work the FSB doesn’t want traced back to their doorstep. Assassination, destabilizing governments, torture, kidnapping, you name it. Think of Wagner Group as the sick, dark mirror of Fortress. They are our antithesis.”
