The Icarus Agenda

'Weingrass? What the hell could he do?'

'Lie with extraordinary conviction. One moment he was a reserve general in the Israeli Army who could call an air strike on any Arab group who harassed or replaced us, and the next, he was a high-ranking member of the Mossad who would send out death squads eliminating even those who warned us. Like many ageing men of genius, Manny was frequently eccentric and almost always theatrical. He enjoyed himself. Unfortunately, his various wives rarely enjoyed him for very long. At any rate, no one wanted to tangle with a crazy Israeli. The tactics were too familiar.'

'Are you suggesting we recruit him?' asked the deputy director.

'No. Apart from his age, he's winding up his life in Paris with the most beautiful women he can hire and certainly with the most expensive brandy he can find. He couldn't help… But there's something you can do.'

'What's that?'

'Listen to me.' Kendrick leaned forward. 'I've been thinking about this for the past eight hours and with every hour I'm more convinced it's a possible explanation. The problem is that there are so few facts—almost none, really—but a pattern's there, and it's consistent with things we heard five years ago.'

'What things? What pattern?'

'Only rumours to begin with, then came the threats and they were threats. No one was kidding.'

'Go on. I'm listening.'

'While defusing those threats in his own way, usually with prohibited whisky, Weingrass heard something that made too much sense to be dismissed as drunken babbling. He was told that a consortium was silently being formed—an industrial cartel, if you like. It was quietly gaining control of dozens of different companies with growing resources in personnel, technology and equipment. The objective was obvious then, and if the information's accurate, even more obvious now. They intend to take over the industrial development of Southwest Asia. As far as Weingrass could learn, this underground federation was based in Bahrain—nothing surprising there—but what came as a shocker and amused the hell out of Manny was the fact that among the unknown board of directors was a man who called himself the “Mahdi”—like the Muslim fanatic who threw the British out of Khartoum a hundred years ago.'

'The Mahdi? Khartoum?'

'Exactly. The symbol's obvious. Except this new Mahdi doesn't give a damn about religious Islam, much less its screaming fanatics. He's using them to drive the competition out and keep it out. He wants the contracts and the profits in Arab hands—specifically his hands.'

'Wait a minute." Swann interrupted thoughtfully as he picked up his phone and touched a button on the console. 'This ties in with something that came from MI-6 in Masqat last night,' he continued quickly, looking at Kendrick. 'We couldn't follow it up because there wasn't anything to follow, no trail, but it sure as hell made wild reading… Get me Gerald Bryce, please… Hello, Gerry? Last night—actually around two o'clock this morning—we got a nothing-zero from the Brits in OHIO. I want you to find it and read it to me slowly because I'll be writing down every word.' The deputy covered the mouthpiece and spoke to his suddenly alert visitor. 'If anything you've said makes any sense at all, it may be the first concrete breakthrough we've had.'

'That's why I'm here, Mr. Swann, probably reeking of smoked fish.'

The deputy director nodded aimlessly, impatiently, waiting for the man he had called Bryce to return to the phone. 'A shower wouldn't hurt, Congressman… Yes, Gerry, go ahead!… “Do not look where you would logically expect to look. Search elsewhere.” Yes, I've got that. I remember that. It was right after, I think… “Where grievances are not born of poverty or abandonment.” That's it! And something else, right around there… “Where Allah has bestowed favour in this world, although perhaps not in the after one.”… Yes. Now go down a bit, something about whispers, that's all I remember… There! That's it. Give it to me again… “The whispers speak of those who will benefit from the bloodshed.” Okay, Gerry, that's what I needed. The rest was all negative, if I recall. No names, no organizations, just crap… That's what I thought… I don't know yet. If anything breaks, you'll be the first to know. In the meantime, oil up the equipment and work on a printout of all the construction firms in Bahrain. And if there's a listing for what we call general or industrial contractors, I want that, too… When? Yesterday for God's sake!' Swann hung up the phone, looked down at the phrases he had written, and then up at Kendrick.

'You heard the words, Congressman. Do you want me to repeat them?'

'It's not necessary. They're not kalam-faregh, are they?'

'No, Mr. Kendrick. none of it's garbage. It's all very pertinent and I wish to hell I knew what to do.'

'Recruit me, Mr. Swann,' said the congressman. 'Send me to Masqat on the fastest transport you can find.'

'Why?' asked the deputy, studying his visitor. 'What can you do that our own experienced men in the field can't? They not only speak fluent Arabic, most of them are Arabs.'

'And working for Consular Operations,' completed Kendrick.

'So?'

'They're marked. They were marked five years ago and they're marked now. If they make any miswired moves, you could have a dozen executions on your hands.'

That's an alarming statement,' said Swann slowly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his visitor's face. 'They're marked? Would you care to explain it?'

'I told you a few minutes ago that your Cons Op briefly became a household name over there. You made a gratuitous remark about my elaborating on congressional rumours, but I wasn't. I meant what I said.'

'A household name?'

'I'll go further, if you like. A household joke. An ex-army engineer and Manny Weingrass even did a number on them.'

'A number…?'

'I'm sure it's in your files somewhere. We were approached by Hussein's people to submit plans for a new airfield after we'd completed one at Qufar in Saudi Arabia. The next day two of your men came to see us, asking technical questions, pressing the point that as Americans it was our duty to relay such information since Hussein frequently conferred with the Soviets—which, of course, was immaterial. An airport's an airport, and any damn fool can fly over an excavation site and determine the configuration.'

'What was the number?'

'Manny and the engineer told them that the two main runways were seven miles long, obviously designed for very special flying equipment. They ran out of the office as if both were struck by acute diarrhea.'

'And?' Swann leaned forward.

'The next day, Hussein's people called and told us to forget the project. We'd had visitors from Consular Operations. They didn't like that.'

The deputy director leaned back in his chair, his weary smile conveying futility. 'Sometimes it's all kind of foolish, isn't it?'

'I don't think it's foolish now,' offered Kendrick.

'No, of course it isn't.' Swann instantly sat forward in his chair. 'So the way you read it, this whole goddamned thing is all about money. Lousy money!'

'If it isn't stopped, it'll get worse,' said Kendrick. 'Much worse.'

'Jesus, how?

'Because it's a proven formula for economic takeover. Once they've crippled the government in Oman, they'll use the same tactics elsewhere. The Emirates, Bahrain, Qatar, even the Saudis. Whoever controls the fanatics gets the contracts, and with all those massive operations under one entity—regardless of the names they use—there's a dangerous political force in the area calling a lot of vital shots we definitely won't like.'

'Good Lord, you have thought this out.'

'I've done nothing else for the past eight hours.'

'Say I sent you over there, what could you do?'

'I won't know until I'm there, but I've got a few ideas. I know a number of influential men, powerful Omanis who know what goes on there and who couldn't possibly be any part of this insanity. For various reasons—probably the same mistrust we felt whenever your Cons Op flunkies showed up—they might not talk to strangers but they will talk to me. They trust me. I've spent days, weekends, with their families. I know their unveiled wives and their children—’