KORD QUESTIONED THE SURFACE TALK between Prince Omar and Consul General al-Fakeeh. Malik typed notes on an iPad while the two men discussed diplomatic relations between the two countries. All pleasant, as though for Kord’s benefit, which exasperated him. He wanted names and motive, not useless words.
“You’re aware of the changes to benefit our country. All will have a positive impact on every citizen,” Prince Omar said. “Education for women, less of a dependence on oil, and strengthening our military.”
The consul general frowned and reached for his coffee cup. “Be careful, Amir. There are those who prefer the old ways. I’ve heard rumors that you intend to lease Saudi oil reserves to Americans.”
“Who told you that?” the prince said.
“My sources.”
“Let me just say, my enemies are many, but they won’t succeed. I’ll inform you of any important business decisions. I ask that you come to me with any unconfirmed statements.”
World politics were unpredictable, with simmering disagreements between Saudi Arabia and those who wanted the country out of the hands of the Saud family. Kord lived with the burden of which country had designs to blow up another. Too many people had no thought of the innocent killed in the name of power and ideologies. A reason why he’d dedicated his life to protecting others from power-hungry predators.
Kord disagreed with many of the country’s practices, but Prince Omar knew and respected his beliefs —not a typical response from a man who lived and breathed his culture.
“Prince Omar,” Consul General al-Fakeeh said, “how can I help you with the attempts on your life?”
“Report every detail to me. Release a statement that indicates the killer has been arrested and is willing to give up all accomplices.”
Not a good idea, but first Kord would listen to the prince’s analysis of the situation.
“What else would you like for it to say?”
“The US and Saudi Arabia refuse to give up the name of the killer or his motive.” The prince turned to Kord. “Does my plan meet with your approval?”
“Will the announcement prompt the real killer to strike again? Or will he shut down until the media reports fade to the next sensationalism, then strike again?”
“Nothing the FBI has done before or after my arrival stopped the murders.”
Kord chose his words. “Prince Omar, this has the possibility of blowing up in our face. We —”
Prince Omar lifted a finger. “We all manipulate media for our benefit. If it serves a purpose, what’s the difference?”
“How will your suggestion help us find those responsible when we’re giving them time to regroup?”
“It buys time, my friend, and informants.”
Kord’s secure phone alerted him to a text —his contact from Iraq. Perfect timing. He captured Prince Omar’s and the consul general’s attention. “This is important. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’d like to take the call in private.”
“If it relates to Zain’s death,” Prince Omar said, “you can talk while we’re here.”
Choose your battles. “Would you do the same for me?”
The prince hesitated, then smiled. “Take the call wherever you choose. If there’s one man I can trust, it’s you.”
Kord thanked him. The recording devices located all over the home would hear the one-sided conversation, so he walked through the foyer and onto the front grounds. He touched Nasim’s number, and the man greeted him in Arabic.
“I received your text,” Kord said in Nasim’s native tongue.
“I have little information, my friend. The plot you are seeking against Prince Omar didn’t originate in Iraq or Iran. Neither do I have a leader’s name or those funding the scheme. From what I’ve learned, Prince Omar has an enemy in his house.”
“What’s your source?”
“Iranian intel. Secure.”
“What else was said?”
“The enemy in Prince Omar’s house would destroy him.”
“Keep searching. Anything you can find, no matter how minuscule.”
“I give you my word. How is my father?”
“Spoke with him two days ago. He likes Seattle, but the cold and wet bother him. Says he can’t get warm.”
“Very good.” Nasim laughed softly. “Give him my best. Tell him I look forward to the day when we are together. Tell him the children are growing.”
“Every time you help me is documented for your benefit. If you fear for your family’s safety, the Saudis will help as well as my contacts.”
“Good. I’m pleased. I’ll call you again soon.”
Kord phoned SAC Thomas and relayed the information. “Sir, the new piece is possible betrayal from among the prince’s trusted men. If true, it narrows our scope. But the prince won’t be convinced easily. His men are like brothers.”
“The situation needs to be addressed.”
“I’ll pull him aside as soon as possible.”
“What’s your take?”
“If someone in the prince’s house is behind this, then a killer was hired to carry out the assassination.”
“I’ll look into the cartels and put out feelers for hired assassins. See what surfaces.”
“Appreciate it. I’m with the prince and Consul General Nasser al-Fakeeh. Prince Omar has requested the consul general release a statement to the media about an arrest made.”
“Snuff that out. This is our jurisdiction,” SAC Thomas said. “The prince knows more than he claims.”
“He’ll share details when he’s ready to.”
“You’re blind when it comes to him. Don’t let it get you or others killed.”
Kord gripped the phone. “Yes, sir.” Prince Omar had placed his life in danger and those around him, and Kord was well aware of the precarious situation.
The call ended and he rejoined the prince. “Amir, may I have a word with you in private?”
The consul general and Malik stepped into the hallway. Kord relayed the conversation from Nasim but didn’t give his informant’s name.
“Can you trust him?” Prince Omar said.
“He’s not failed me in the past.”
“I’ll have Malik send the information home. Tell them to search until they have suspects to question.”
“You won’t release news of an arrest?” Kord said.
“Consul General al-Fakeeh agrees with you, so I’ll postpone the report.”
Kord doubted any of the crimes would have closed stamped on them today or tomorrow. The players had strategized their plot to ensure success. Those who’d committed their lives to keeping the prince and his family safe were seemingly handcuffed with no idea of the next plan of attack. “I’m waiting on security camera footage from yesterday. Once I’m able to —”
“What’s the delay?”
Kord grimaced. “I know a judge signed the search warrant. I’ll check again.” He texted SAC Thomas. A response buzzed his phone —within the hour.
“Are we ready for the drive to MD Anderson?” Prince Omar said. “The consul general will follow us in his car to the medical center.”
Kord had no idea the man planned to visit Prince Omar’s mother. What else had transpired in his absence?