nice and fluid in our own account, to get started,” Paul Rashid said.
Von Berger nodded. “Two billion would be better.”
They both stared at him. “Two billion?” Kate said.
“Yes. Let’s see, today is Tuesday. I’ll set the wheels in motion, you could have it by Friday.” He smiled. “And then you would be developing oil in the Dhofar, not me. The White House, the Kremlin, Downing Street – they wouldn’t know a thing.”
It was Kate who answered. “Oh, God, that would be beautiful.”
Her brother held up his hand. “This is not a joke. You’re not that kind of man.”
“No, I’m not renowned for my sense of humor where money is concerned.”
“But the manipulations necessary to raise such a sum on the international finance scene would be very obvious. There is no way the Americans, the Russians and the Brits would not be aware of it.”
“No, there you’re wrong. There would be no need for anything unusual to happen. I have access to unlimited cash funds.”
Kate was astonished. “In that amount? But from where?”
“Oh, Swiss banks. I’m what is known as cash-rich. There’ll be no wheeler-dealing on the stock exchanges, no haggling for loans or investments in the financial markets. Just healthy injections of cash into Rashid Investments, as you choose.”
They looked at each other. Kate was excited and clutched at her brother’s arm. “Paul, we’ll never have such a chance again. We can confound them all.”
“I know, little sister.” Rashid turned to von Berger. “And in return?”
“In return, I would expect to be made a silent partner in Rashid Investments.”
“On what terms?”
“Nothing onerous, nothing unreasonable. We can work it out together, here, and I’ll step back. In fact, we shouldn’t even meet socially, not ever again.” He turned to Kate. “Which will be a great deprivation.”
Paul Rashid sat brooding. After a while, he said, “Those international oil cartels, they’d love to drill anywhere they damn well pleased in the Dhofar and walk all over the Bedu in the process. Rape the desert.”
“And you would do it differently?”
“It can be done differently, Max, no one knows that better than you. You are right, by the way. We can’t be seen together in the future.”
“So, we have a deal?”
“Subject to our agreement on the partnership, yes. I’ll arrange all the necessary documentation and you will arrange the funding.”
“By Friday.”
“We have an ancient Bedu custom, more binding than any contract.” Rashid took a small razor-sharp knife from his belt. “Your thumb, Baron, the left hand.” Von Berger held out the hand, Rashid touched the end of the thumb and drew a spot of blood. He did the same to his own, then touched it to von Berger’s, their blood mingling.
Kate held out her left hand. “Me too. It is my right. I brought him.”
He smiled. “And you did well, little sister.” He pricked her thumb also and she touched his and then von Berger’s. Paul Rashid leaned forward and put an arm around both of them. “This bond that will last for life itself.”
“I swear it on my honor,” von Berger said.
Kate smiled and something glowed in her eyes. “What a pity, Max, that we can’t meet again, but Paul is right.”
“No more Piano Bar.” He spread his hands. “I’m desolate.”
Little did he know, but some two years later, he was to meet her again and under the most dramatic of circumstances.
January 2000, to be precise. Von Berger was approached through his Berlin offices by Iraqi government sources. They wanted exploratory talks regarding arms supplies. Von Berger wasn’t surprised. Arms dealers all over the world had been approached. There wasn’t much chance of keeping quiet about it with the Israeli Mossad so closely allied to American and British intelligence.
He wasn’t certain why he went to Iraq at all. He didn’t approve of Saddam Hussein or his regime. The lift that Kate Rashid had given
Von Berger nodded. “Two billion would be better.”
They both stared at him. “Two billion?” Kate said.
“Yes. Let’s see, today is Tuesday. I’ll set the wheels in motion, you could have it by Friday.” He smiled. “And then you would be developing oil in the Dhofar, not me. The White House, the Kremlin, Downing Street – they wouldn’t know a thing.”
It was Kate who answered. “Oh, God, that would be beautiful.”
Her brother held up his hand. “This is not a joke. You’re not that kind of man.”
“No, I’m not renowned for my sense of humor where money is concerned.”
“But the manipulations necessary to raise such a sum on the international finance scene would be very obvious. There is no way the Americans, the Russians and the Brits would not be aware of it.”
“No, there you’re wrong. There would be no need for anything unusual to happen. I have access to unlimited cash funds.”
Kate was astonished. “In that amount? But from where?”
“Oh, Swiss banks. I’m what is known as cash-rich. There’ll be no wheeler-dealing on the stock exchanges, no haggling for loans or investments in the financial markets. Just healthy injections of cash into Rashid Investments, as you choose.”
They looked at each other. Kate was excited and clutched at her brother’s arm. “Paul, we’ll never have such a chance again. We can confound them all.”
“I know, little sister.” Rashid turned to von Berger. “And in return?”
“In return, I would expect to be made a silent partner in Rashid Investments.”
“On what terms?”
“Nothing onerous, nothing unreasonable. We can work it out together, here, and I’ll step back. In fact, we shouldn’t even meet socially, not ever again.” He turned to Kate. “Which will be a great deprivation.”
Paul Rashid sat brooding. After a while, he said, “Those international oil cartels, they’d love to drill anywhere they damn well pleased in the Dhofar and walk all over the Bedu in the process. Rape the desert.”
“And you would do it differently?”
“It can be done differently, Max, no one knows that better than you. You are right, by the way. We can’t be seen together in the future.”
“So, we have a deal?”
“Subject to our agreement on the partnership, yes. I’ll arrange all the necessary documentation and you will arrange the funding.”
“By Friday.”
“We have an ancient Bedu custom, more binding than any contract.” Rashid took a small razor-sharp knife from his belt. “Your thumb, Baron, the left hand.” Von Berger held out the hand, Rashid touched the end of the thumb and drew a spot of blood. He did the same to his own, then touched it to von Berger’s, their blood mingling.
Kate held out her left hand. “Me too. It is my right. I brought him.”
He smiled. “And you did well, little sister.” He pricked her thumb also and she touched his and then von Berger’s. Paul Rashid leaned forward and put an arm around both of them. “This bond that will last for life itself.”
“I swear it on my honor,” von Berger said.
Kate smiled and something glowed in her eyes. “What a pity, Max, that we can’t meet again, but Paul is right.”
“No more Piano Bar.” He spread his hands. “I’m desolate.”
Little did he know, but some two years later, he was to meet her again and under the most dramatic of circumstances.
January 2000, to be precise. Von Berger was approached through his Berlin offices by Iraqi government sources. They wanted exploratory talks regarding arms supplies. Von Berger wasn’t surprised. Arms dealers all over the world had been approached. There wasn’t much chance of keeping quiet about it with the Israeli Mossad so closely allied to American and British intelligence.
He wasn’t certain why he went to Iraq at all. He didn’t approve of Saddam Hussein or his regime. The lift that Kate Rashid had given
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