Esdras turned a page in the file. "We don't have the complete story here, but she appears to have been — shall we say a 'bitch'? Because he sent her away to raise the boys, she could no longer enjoy the life she had had in his palaces. And because he wanted the whole thing low-key, she could not live a public life wherever she set up home. And because she had the boys, she was tied to him forever. So she ended up with the worst of both worlds. They spent most of their youth on the continent here, at some of the best boarding schools. But Yasin insisted she stay close by wherever they were and do nothing that could cause a scandal. He had men watching her all the time. She hated it. A prison without walls. After all, a woman who would end up in her situation is not the type who would enjoy sitting at home sipping tea and packing the boys' lunches, eh?"
"She took it out on the boys every chance she could." Esdras looked up from the file. "Abused, treated like the bastards they were, et cetera, et cetera. Not that I — or you, for that matter — give a shit, given what they are now. You can blame the process, but you also have to deal with the end result."
"When they turned fourteen, their mother tried to kill both of them and then kill herself. She succeeded in the latter, but unfortunately failed in the former. I hate incompetence, don't you?" Esdras did not wait for an answer.
Thorpe was growing a bit anxious with this lengthy discourse. He still had no idea if they had killed Terri Dublowski and Takamura. However, he knew that Esdras, like all in covert operations, felt that a complete briefing was critical to understanding a situation. There was also the possibility that Esdras would have no idea if the twins had had anything to do with Terri or the other girls.
"After their mother's death, their father brought them back to Saudi Arabia, but they were the bastards, so they were not treated well there either. He sent them into the military when they turned seventeen and there they have been ever since. Have you ever been on a UN operation?" Esdras asked in an abrupt change.
Thorpe nodded.
"Have you ever seen any Saudi troops? Even during Desert Storm, which was a UN operation?"
"Not in action," Thorpe said. "I heard they committed troops to Desert Storm, but I never saw them."
"Correct. Saudi Arabia's contribution to that and other UN operations consists primarily of money, which they have plenty of. They did send some troops to Kuwait, but they did little during the offensive."
"Of course, they don't want to give all that money and not have someone on the ground to see how things are going. Enter Jawhar and Akil. They travel around, with Jawhar piloting their own plane and helicopter. Visit UN forces around the world. Report back to their father on how his money is being spent. Not that Hakim gives a damn about the UN, but he does give a damn about political leverage, and he can use the UN for his own means."
"Could the twins be involved in the disappearance of American dependent girls from around this area?" Thorpe finally asked.
Esdras spread his hands. "It is possible. They do come to this area every so often to coordinate with your Seventh Army, which is headquartered here and is the higher headquarters for American forces deployed on the IFOR."
"I know it's possible," Thorpe pressed, "but" — he leaned forward—"you were told to cooperate."
Esdras sighed. "We know they kill. That they are sociopaths. Your intelligence people know they kill. All the intelligence agencies have a folder on these two. Who they've killed — how many they've killed…" He shrugged. "That we don't know, and to be honest, it has not been anyone's priority."
"No one's priority," Thorpe said. "How can—"
"Jawhar and Akil are agents of their father and their government. Our concern has always been their actions in the international arena."
"Great," Thorpe said.
"Jawhar was actually arrested once. In England. On suspicion of killing a seventeen-year-old girl. Three years ago. Not only did he have diplomatic immunity, his father wields a mighty economic lever. Jawhar was out of the country within forty-eight hours. He is banned from ever going back there — officially, at least."
"So he can get away with murder?"
"Yes. Jawhar seems to have a particular fetish for killing young women."
"Jesus Christ," Thorpe exclaimed, now knowing in his gut that Jawhar was their man. "And you guys just sit back and watch?"
"Would you prefer we kill Jawhar and start a war?"
"That's bullshit and you know it," Thorpe said.
"Maybe not start a war, but, for example, have Saudi Arabia pull the six hundred million dollars it has allocated to the IFOR in the Balkans? That is what concerns those who give me my orders and your intelligence people their orders. And why these two scum are virtually untouchable. I do not like it, but…"
"But you're just following orders, right?"
Esdras's lips drew into a thin line. "I am instructed to give you information, but please do not—"
"Tell you the truth?" Thorpe interjected. He leaned across the table until he was less than a foot from Esdras. "It's bullshit and you know it. You yourself said they were sociopaths. Doing whatever the hell they want, whenever they want, because their daddy pays money to the UN?"
"You are not so naive," Esdras shot back. "You Americans have a saying for it: Money talks."
"Yeah, that's right," Thorpe said, "but only to those who listen to that kind of talk." He sat back down and gripped the arms of his chair.
"What do you want from me?" Esdras asked.
"Where are Jawhar and Akil now?" If either of them were still in the States, Thorpe knew he had to get word to Parker and Dublowski. That would help explain what had happened to Takamura, at least.
"I don't know." He held up a hand to stop Thorpe's next words. "I sent a request to my headquarters for the latest information. The reply should be coming back any minute."
Thorpe forced himself to lean back and release the arms of the chair. "When Jawhar—" he began, but the door opened once more and the woman handed a sheet of paper to Esdras.
He read it, then looked up. "Akil and Jawhar are assigned to IFOR headquarters in Sarajevo. At the moment, Akil is listed as being back in Saudi Arabia."
"Not the States?"
Esdras raised an eyebrow. "No."
"When will he return to Sarajevo?"
"In three days."
"And Jawhar?"
"Jawhar is in the Ukraine. Chernovsty, to be exact."
"What's he doing there?"
"I don't have that information."
"How long will he be there?"
"We don't know."
"Can I take that file with me?" Thorpe asked.
"No."
"Do you know exactly where in Chernovsty Jawhar is?"
"Yes. He's staying at this hotel." Esdras slid a piece of paper across to Thorpe, who pocketed it.
"Do you have an agent in Chernovsty?"
"Yes."
"Can I contact him?"
"I'll check on that. I will get you the contact information through Mr. Lorsen." Esdras stood. "I believe that completes our business."
Thorpe didn't stand. "I don't think so."
"There's nothing more I can give you that—"
"What I was going to ask you before," Thorpe said. "When Jawhar and Akil came to Stuttgart."
"Yes?"
"If they are on your Level A list as you say, then you had to have put surveillance on them." Thorpe stood. "You know what they were doing here. You know whether they killed my friend's daughter. And I'm not leaving until you tell me the truth."
Esdras rubbed his forehead, then he walked over to a cabinet. "A drink?"
"No."
"Well, I'll have one." Esdras poured himself a shot. He threw it down with one quick practiced motion, then poured himself another, before sitting back down at the table.
"You are correct. We try to keep them under surveillance when they come into our area of operations."