WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1) by Lavina Giamusso
Authors: Lavina Giamusso
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dying to hear from Thomas. “Think about it, D., the Florida cops could get her up on charges if we wanted to scrape the bottom of this pile of corpses, couldn’t we?”
“I see. You want to rack up a series of warrants for her arrest, is that it?”
“Just one would do—for Al Nadir. She killed him, remember? His case hasn’t been closed yet.”
Thomas brought his mouth closer to Sadir’s ears and lowered his voice to a whisper. “And they would be glad to give us a hand, if we were to inform them what our colleagues at the Bureau discovered at the bottom of the Jackson River, when Ms Kartz left the scene…”
“I think you’re on to something there, Thomas, my friend.” Sadir raised his cup to his lips and grinned before emptying it in one long gulp. “Let’s get back upstairs, shall we?”
Thomas finished off his coffee, too, and followed Sadir out of the cafeteria. However, something bothered him. He knew what Sadir had engineered against Ms Kartz and Agent Slimane earlier that year. He had instant messaging communications to prove it. Sadir’s vengeful Islamic character didn’t seem to have any bounds. Thomas held trump cards, if things were to go wrong, and for that, he was glad.
Chapter 15
Plunging headlong into an operation such as the one they were putting in motion by sending their agent and Khalid into an open confrontation with Samuel, didn’t agree with Fred Gibson at all. Time wasn’t always on his side when he had to make decisions, yes, but to be shoved into a corner and being told “that’s the only way the situation could be resolved,” as Sadir had done, was not agreeing with Fred’s management style or his instincts. There was something wrong with this deal. Moreover, a few minutes ago the call from Sadir served to re-ignite his foreboding. In nothing short than open blackmail, Sadir had suggested sending Talya to Australia in order for the FBI to shred the cold-case file of the murder of Al-Nadir and his companion, Salaman Abib, on the trawler. Mark and Talya had been forced to kill two men on that fishing boat when they were hunting Agent Slimane down in Florida.
If he agreed to this, Fred could see Talya—an invalid—being killed along with Khalid the moment Samuel would have them in his scope. Mark would have to arrive on the scene before anyone else, and eliminate the Mossad man first. Mark was good, but he didn’t have Mossad’s training. Fred could see three caskets coming back from Australia, instead of Samuel being returned to Israel to his masters.
He got up, went around his desk and began pacing. “There has to be another way,” he muttered to himself. His fists deep into his trousers’ pockets, he continued rubbing the polish off the hardwood floor before he walked through the door in a rush.
As he entered Badawee’s room, without knocking, he noticed the lawyer was on the phone. Namlah beckoned to the Chief to take a seat and hurried to finish his conversation with the caller. He put the phone down then, and looked fixedly at his boss.
“What happened?” were Namlah’s opening words.
“They’re blackmailing us,” was Fred’s answer.
“Shall we start from the top, Chief? Tell me, who’s doing the blackmailing and why?”
“The CIA wants…” He stopped as if wanting to revise his train of thoughts. “No, Agent Sadir wants us to send Ms Kartz Downunder to convince Prince Khalid to carry out his plan. They want to close the file on the two murders in Florida and promise to do so, if we succeed in getting her to Sydney.”
Caressing his moustache, Namlah reclined in his chair. He then folded his hands over his stomach. “I see. This is quite complex,” he mused. “There are many issues here, and not all to do with the suggestion.”
“Can you explain what you have in mind?”
Namlah nodded, stood up and made his way to the whiteboard that hung on the far wall. Most people worked out their thoughts on paper, but Namlah preferred to
“I see. You want to rack up a series of warrants for her arrest, is that it?”
“Just one would do—for Al Nadir. She killed him, remember? His case hasn’t been closed yet.”
Thomas brought his mouth closer to Sadir’s ears and lowered his voice to a whisper. “And they would be glad to give us a hand, if we were to inform them what our colleagues at the Bureau discovered at the bottom of the Jackson River, when Ms Kartz left the scene…”
“I think you’re on to something there, Thomas, my friend.” Sadir raised his cup to his lips and grinned before emptying it in one long gulp. “Let’s get back upstairs, shall we?”
Thomas finished off his coffee, too, and followed Sadir out of the cafeteria. However, something bothered him. He knew what Sadir had engineered against Ms Kartz and Agent Slimane earlier that year. He had instant messaging communications to prove it. Sadir’s vengeful Islamic character didn’t seem to have any bounds. Thomas held trump cards, if things were to go wrong, and for that, he was glad.
Chapter 15
Plunging headlong into an operation such as the one they were putting in motion by sending their agent and Khalid into an open confrontation with Samuel, didn’t agree with Fred Gibson at all. Time wasn’t always on his side when he had to make decisions, yes, but to be shoved into a corner and being told “that’s the only way the situation could be resolved,” as Sadir had done, was not agreeing with Fred’s management style or his instincts. There was something wrong with this deal. Moreover, a few minutes ago the call from Sadir served to re-ignite his foreboding. In nothing short than open blackmail, Sadir had suggested sending Talya to Australia in order for the FBI to shred the cold-case file of the murder of Al-Nadir and his companion, Salaman Abib, on the trawler. Mark and Talya had been forced to kill two men on that fishing boat when they were hunting Agent Slimane down in Florida.
If he agreed to this, Fred could see Talya—an invalid—being killed along with Khalid the moment Samuel would have them in his scope. Mark would have to arrive on the scene before anyone else, and eliminate the Mossad man first. Mark was good, but he didn’t have Mossad’s training. Fred could see three caskets coming back from Australia, instead of Samuel being returned to Israel to his masters.
He got up, went around his desk and began pacing. “There has to be another way,” he muttered to himself. His fists deep into his trousers’ pockets, he continued rubbing the polish off the hardwood floor before he walked through the door in a rush.
As he entered Badawee’s room, without knocking, he noticed the lawyer was on the phone. Namlah beckoned to the Chief to take a seat and hurried to finish his conversation with the caller. He put the phone down then, and looked fixedly at his boss.
“What happened?” were Namlah’s opening words.
“They’re blackmailing us,” was Fred’s answer.
“Shall we start from the top, Chief? Tell me, who’s doing the blackmailing and why?”
“The CIA wants…” He stopped as if wanting to revise his train of thoughts. “No, Agent Sadir wants us to send Ms Kartz Downunder to convince Prince Khalid to carry out his plan. They want to close the file on the two murders in Florida and promise to do so, if we succeed in getting her to Sydney.”
Caressing his moustache, Namlah reclined in his chair. He then folded his hands over his stomach. “I see. This is quite complex,” he mused. “There are many issues here, and not all to do with the suggestion.”
“Can you explain what you have in mind?”
Namlah nodded, stood up and made his way to the whiteboard that hung on the far wall. Most people worked out their thoughts on paper, but Namlah preferred to
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