To the Death

Commodore Tariq Fahd greeted everyone, and the house servants came in with pots of Turkish coffee, served in plain glasses set into silver holders. They also brought two trays of the sugared, almond-flavored pastries that are so favored in that part of the world.

“It is, of course, obvious now, certainly to all of us, that someone has tried, very determinedly, to execute our commander in chief. Thankfully, we are all able to welcome him and Shakira here today, and to swear, by the blood of the Prophet, vengeance upon these enemies.”

He hesitated for a moment and sipped his coffee. “I should like, if I may, to outline the sequence of events that I believe will lead us to an inevitable conclusion. I should add that I am using only known facts rather than any form of supposition.

“Therefore, I will begin in the small hours of January 15, when we know beyond any doubt that our brother Ramon Salman made a call of confirmation to our command headquarters on Sharia Bab Touma. General Rashood himself took the call and was informed the attack on the Boston airport was a go.” General Rashood nodded in agreement.

“A few hours later,” continued Commodore Fahd, “that attack was foiled, principally because our senior operations man somehow allowed the briefcase carrying the explosive to fall into the hands of a policeman.

“We were then delivered two terrible blows. Our second field operator was shot dead by the Boston police, and the injured Reza Aghani was taken into police custody. We know he went into Massachusetts General Hospital, but from there we are ill-informed.

“Our lawyers say Aghani was almost immediately removed from the United States judicial system. Which most certainly means he was transferred to a military interrogation center. In the opinion of our lawyers, that most certainly means Guantánamo Bay, given the enormity of his potential crime.

“For the purpose of this meeting, we will assume he reached Cuba by January 18. And then, in a very bizarre twist of fate, the New York police picked up Ramon Salman in the Houston Street apartment within a day of that happening. He too was removed from the U.S. justice system, and that much is definite. We have no proof he was also transported to Guantánamo Bay, but our American lawyers say he almost certainly was.

“So we may assume that by January 23, after three days of torture and brutal U.S. interrogation, Ramon Salman may have told them what they wanted to know.”

Commodore Tariq Fahd paused theatrically, and then said, “Four days later, installed in the house directly opposite General Rashood’s residence on Bab Touma, there is a hit team which makes a thoroughly professional attempt on his life, murdering his guards first, in the classic manner of trained Special Forces.”

Colonel Abdullah turned to Ravi and said, “How good were your guards? Are you surprised they were dispensed with so efficiently?”

The terrorist C-in-C looked pensive. Shakira stood up and walked to a table and poured more coffee for her husband. “On reflection, Colonel,” he said, “I am extremely surprised. One of those two guards had fought with me at the Nimrod Jail, and you may remember him yourself. He was the one in the hood, the one who hit the gatehouse, blew away the guards, and smashed the communications system. He was top-class.”

“Of course,” said the commodore, “it’s always easier to succeed when you have the element of surprise on your side. At the jail, the man in the hood had every advantage. Not so on Sharia Bab Touma, hah?”

“Correct,” replied Ravi. “Nonetheless, it remains difficult to imagine how my highly trained bodyguards could have succumbed so quickly to an outside attack.”

“The men who killed the guards were either Israeli or American,” said the commodore. “Of that we can be certain. I do not think the Americans would have moved Special Forces into Damascus so quickly. But I accept they might have.”

General Rashood added, “Whoever it was had all the skills of U.S. Navy SEALs. It was either them or the Mossad. No one else.”

“How about Great Britain’s SAS Regiment, which did so much for the Israelis?” asked Colonel Abdullah, smiling. “Could they have done it? I am sure the general here will attest to their efficiency.”

“I think they could most certainly have done it. But that last Labour government in Westminster did so much damage to the armed forces, I don’t think they’ve ever recovered. Or ever will. No, the Brits could no longer move that fast. Only the Israelis or the Americans.”

“And which one would you favor?” asked the commodore.

“I’d say it was a combination,” said Ravi. “The Americans have the peace talks coming up in a few weeks. The last thing they need is to get caught blowing up hunks of historic old Damascus.”