I will be in your debt."
Nadim couldn't believe he was hearing this. It fit perfectly into his own idea.
"Well... will you do it?" Kemal asked nervously.
"I'll do more than that," Nadim said, letting the excitement bubble out in his voice. "I have an idea that will make you a hero for all time in your country, because Turkey will finally be able to control the Kurds. They'll bow down to you in Ankaraâthe prime minister and all of the other top people in the government."
"I'm listening," Kemal said, still apprehensive.
Though he was acting on his own, Nadim was ready to forge ahead. Ahmed, that imbecile of a president Syria had, would never understand the plan even if Nadim explained it to him a hundred times. The Syrian president was an optometrist by education. When he had been handpicked by his father as a successor to punish his power-hungry uncle for plotting to capture the presidency, the streets had erupted with laughter. The man was no leader.
But when Nadim succeeded, he would be able to rally the army behind him and oust Ahmed. He would know how to run the country. They would finally be able to strike back at the Israelis for the 1967 and 1973 humiliations.
"The first thing we have to do," Nadim said, "is move the American pilot to Syria, but not for execution, as you suggested. Instead, for safekeeping. I have the perfect place to hold him."
Kemal was troubled. "But if he's alive he can create problems for us. If my prime minister finds outâ"
Nadim held up his hand. "Hear me out first. Then you decide."
"Okay. Tell me your idea."
Nadim began talking, and as he listened to the Syrian for the next half hour, Kemal, too, became excited by what he was hearing. A smile formed at the edges of his mouth.
"If we can pull this off," Kemal said, "both our countries will be so much stronger and more dangerous. You'll be better able to deal with the Israelis, and we with the Kurds."
"Exactly." Nadim nodded vigorously. "It will change the entire political situation in the Middle East. And we will succeed." Nadim said it with confidence.
Kemal became nervous again as he thought about one of the aspects of Nadim's plan. "But we need the miserable Iranians to participate. They're unpredictable. And they hate us because of our secular government. They'll never go along."
Anxious to gain Kemal's unqualified support, Nadim placed a reassuring hand on the Turk's arm. "They despise the Israelis even more. They won't pass up an opportunity to weaken the Israelis and their position as the dominant military force in the region. Besides, they'll be able to gain some concessions from the Americans."
Kemal was mired in thought, weighing the risks and benefits to himself. Deep furrows appeared on his forehead.
Nadim pressed the Turk. "When we succeed, you'll be a hero in your country."
"And if we fail..."
"We won't fail," Nadim said. "You can count on that."
Kemal was coming around. Whether or not Nadim's plan succeeded in the long run, Kemal would gain an immediate advantage: He was getting the American pilot out of Turkey and across the border into Syria. "I'm in," Kemal finally said.
When Kemal left the room to make the arrangements to transport the American pilot, Nadim pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed a Paris number. There was no answer. He decided to leave a message.
"Layla, my dear," Nadim said, "I'll be back in Paris in a couple of days. I want to schedule a date with you for dinner."
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Chapter 9
Â
Michael Hanley waited for Irina in a blinding snowstorm in Moscow in front of the Pushkin Memorial Museum on Prechistenka. Night was falling over the city. Two hours ago Irina had called. "Dmitri's going out of town on a business trip." She had giggled. "We can have a date tonight."
This could be the break he had been waiting for with Suslov. He wanted to shout, "Where has he gone?" but he controlled himself. If things broke his way, he'd end up getting that information.
He
Nadim couldn't believe he was hearing this. It fit perfectly into his own idea.
"Well... will you do it?" Kemal asked nervously.
"I'll do more than that," Nadim said, letting the excitement bubble out in his voice. "I have an idea that will make you a hero for all time in your country, because Turkey will finally be able to control the Kurds. They'll bow down to you in Ankaraâthe prime minister and all of the other top people in the government."
"I'm listening," Kemal said, still apprehensive.
Though he was acting on his own, Nadim was ready to forge ahead. Ahmed, that imbecile of a president Syria had, would never understand the plan even if Nadim explained it to him a hundred times. The Syrian president was an optometrist by education. When he had been handpicked by his father as a successor to punish his power-hungry uncle for plotting to capture the presidency, the streets had erupted with laughter. The man was no leader.
But when Nadim succeeded, he would be able to rally the army behind him and oust Ahmed. He would know how to run the country. They would finally be able to strike back at the Israelis for the 1967 and 1973 humiliations.
"The first thing we have to do," Nadim said, "is move the American pilot to Syria, but not for execution, as you suggested. Instead, for safekeeping. I have the perfect place to hold him."
Kemal was troubled. "But if he's alive he can create problems for us. If my prime minister finds outâ"
Nadim held up his hand. "Hear me out first. Then you decide."
"Okay. Tell me your idea."
Nadim began talking, and as he listened to the Syrian for the next half hour, Kemal, too, became excited by what he was hearing. A smile formed at the edges of his mouth.
"If we can pull this off," Kemal said, "both our countries will be so much stronger and more dangerous. You'll be better able to deal with the Israelis, and we with the Kurds."
"Exactly." Nadim nodded vigorously. "It will change the entire political situation in the Middle East. And we will succeed." Nadim said it with confidence.
Kemal became nervous again as he thought about one of the aspects of Nadim's plan. "But we need the miserable Iranians to participate. They're unpredictable. And they hate us because of our secular government. They'll never go along."
Anxious to gain Kemal's unqualified support, Nadim placed a reassuring hand on the Turk's arm. "They despise the Israelis even more. They won't pass up an opportunity to weaken the Israelis and their position as the dominant military force in the region. Besides, they'll be able to gain some concessions from the Americans."
Kemal was mired in thought, weighing the risks and benefits to himself. Deep furrows appeared on his forehead.
Nadim pressed the Turk. "When we succeed, you'll be a hero in your country."
"And if we fail..."
"We won't fail," Nadim said. "You can count on that."
Kemal was coming around. Whether or not Nadim's plan succeeded in the long run, Kemal would gain an immediate advantage: He was getting the American pilot out of Turkey and across the border into Syria. "I'm in," Kemal finally said.
When Kemal left the room to make the arrangements to transport the American pilot, Nadim pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed a Paris number. There was no answer. He decided to leave a message.
"Layla, my dear," Nadim said, "I'll be back in Paris in a couple of days. I want to schedule a date with you for dinner."
Â
Â
Â
Chapter 9
Â
Michael Hanley waited for Irina in a blinding snowstorm in Moscow in front of the Pushkin Memorial Museum on Prechistenka. Night was falling over the city. Two hours ago Irina had called. "Dmitri's going out of town on a business trip." She had giggled. "We can have a date tonight."
This could be the break he had been waiting for with Suslov. He wanted to shout, "Where has he gone?" but he controlled himself. If things broke his way, he'd end up getting that information.
He
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