Al-Jaber smiled when he saw Bin Azim walking towards him. In terms of money and status Bin Azim was a pygmy compared to Al-Jaber, but he was ten years older and, out of respect for his age, Al-Jaber stood up and held out his hands in welcome. It was Bin Azim who initiated the kissing, a soft peck on each cheek, before they sat down.
‘I’m not eating,’ said Al-Jaber. ‘But please order whatever you like.’
‘Coffee is fine,’ said Bin Azim, adjusting his robe around his legs. A hovering waiter asked him what sort of coffee he wanted and Bin Azim ordered an espresso. His doctor was constantly asking him to switch to tea but coffee was one of the few pleasures that Bin Azim had left in his life and he intended to enjoy it until his last breath.
‘How was Karachi?’ asked Al-Jaber.
‘It there a worse place in the world?’ said Bin Azim. ‘If there is I have yet to find it.’
‘Perhaps in Africa,’ said Al-Jaber. ‘But there is money to be made in Pakistan and the generals are easy to work with. Everything and everyone has a price there.’
Bin Azim’s hand moved slowly inside his robe. He was well known to Al-Jaber’s bodyguards but they still stiffened and their hands moved to their concealed weapons. Bin Azim’s hand reappeared holding a piece of paper and the bodyguards relaxed. He slid the piece of paper across the table.
‘The Americans had help,’ said Bin Azim.
‘From the Pakistanis?’ There was a pair of gold-rimmed reading glasses on the table by Al-Jaber’s right hand and he put them on.
‘From someone,’ said Bin Azim. He nodded at the piece of paper. ‘That’s the proof.’
Al-Jaber unfolded the sheet of paper. It was a photocopy of a hand-drawn floor plan.
‘It is a drawing of the compound and the buildings in it,’ said Bin Azim. ‘The walls and the exterior can be seen from satellites but, as you can see, the map shows the internal walls.’
Al-Jaber studied the map for almost a full minute before looking up. ‘And it is accurate?’
‘Absolutely. Every room.’
‘So it was drawn by someone who had visited the compound?’
‘That is the only way to get that amount of detail. You see the doors? The way they are drawn open?’
Al-Jaber looked back at the map. ‘Yes, I see that.’
‘The hinges are all on the correct sides. If the door is hinged on the left, it is drawn that way. And the furniture. It is exactly as it was in the house. I checked with his family.’
‘The Americans are saying that they followed The Sheik’s courier to the compound.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Is that a lie, then?’
‘It might perhaps be how they found the compound. But the courier would never betray The Sheik.’
‘The map is definitely genuine?’ asked Al-Jaber.
‘I have no reason to doubt its veracity.’
‘They are duplicitous bastards, the Pakistanis. You shake a Pakistani’s hand and you had better count your fingers afterwards.’
Bin Azim laughed. ‘My contact is solid. He met with The Sheik himself, many years ago. And he has supplied us with top-grade intelligence in the past.’
‘Leopards can change their spots,’ said Al-Jaber. ‘Especially ones from Pakistan.’
‘I can vouch for him,’ said Bin Azim.
‘My concern is that the Pakistanis might want to cause mischief for the Americans.’ He held up the piece of paper. ‘ISI could have made this map after the event. Then leaked it to you.’
‘Why would they do that? What is there to gain? Are we going to hate the Americans more because of this map? Of course not.’
‘And the timing is very suspicious. Why release it now?’
‘It has only just been discovered. My contact says that they were clearing out one of the upstairs bedrooms and they found it under a mattress. The Americans were in there at night, the map must have been dropped in the confusion and the mattress tipped on top of it.’
‘So the Pakistanis didn’t search the building after the attack?’
‘Why would they? They would have assumed that the Americans had taken everything of importance.’ He held out his hand and Al-Jaber passed the map back.
‘What about the Americans? Could they have wanted the Pakistanis to find the map? The Americans might want to sow dissent among our ranks. We start to suspect everybody. Once an organisation loses trust, it cannot function.’
The waiter reappeared with Bin Azim’s coffee and they waited until he had set the white porcelain cup down on the table and left before continuing their conversation.
‘So that is the question we must ask ourselves,’ said Al-Jaber. ‘Did the Americans leave it to be found? Or do we have something that they would rather we didn’t have?’
‘The fact that ISI went public is an embarrassment to the Americans. It makes them look less than professional.’
Al-Jaber chuckled. ‘Crashing their helicopter did that,’ he said. ‘My worry is that the Americans want us to act on this map. That they left it there for the Pakistanis to find, knowing that the Pakistanis would in turn pass it to us.’
‘If it was a plant it was very cleverly done. I am more inclined to believe that it was an error. These are the same Americans who crashed their helicopter, remember?’
Al-Jaber nodded slowly. ‘Then let us assume that the map is genuine and that the Americans made a mistake. What do we do?’
‘We find out who betrayed The Sheik and we kill him. Such a betrayal cannot go unpunished.’
‘The Sheik is dead,’ said Al-Jaber. ‘Killing the betrayer will not bring him back. One must be careful with revenge. Remember what the Koran says, old friend. “If thou dost stretch thy hand against me, to slay me, it is not for me to stretch my hand against thee to slay thee: for I do fear Allah, the cherisher of the worlds.” Revenge is not for good Muslims; it’s what the infidels do.’
‘Then not for revenge, but to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. Whoever gave away The Sheik’s location might be in a position to betray us in some other way. Who knows who else he might give up? We have to find out who the traitor is, find out what he knows, and then. .’ He shrugged. ‘I do not see that we have any choice.’ He sipped his coffee.
Al-Jaber stroked his chin. ‘How do we find this traitor?’ he asked.
Bin Azim unfolded the map again and placed it on the table. He tapped a finger on one of the rooms. There were the outlines of a bed and a cupboard and what appeared to be a flat-screen television against one wall. ‘This is the room where The Sheik died,’ he said. ‘It is accurate: the furniture is correctly marked and the door opens with the hinges on the left.’ He tapped a second door, to the right of the bed. ‘This door leads to a bathroom. But last summer this door was not here. The room next door to the bedroom was used as another bedroom. But a builder was brought in to turn it into a bathroom and make a connecting door.’ He tapped the map again. ‘So prior to mid-August this door did not exist. Whoever drew this map could only have visited the compound between mid-August and when The Sheik was killed. That is a narrow time frame. Nine months.’
‘And what about the builder? Was he aware that The Sheik lived there?’
‘I’m assured that he wasn’t. The Sheik and his family were moved to another safe house while the work was carried out. Only when the building workers had gone did The Sheik move back.’