Pharaoh by Valerio Massimo Manfredi Page B

He used the tip of a stick to sketch out his plans in the sandy soil. ‘One part will go south, with the backing of the Iranians, advancing day and night until they reach the Kuwaiti and Saudi oil wells, which they will proceed to mine. Ensuring one third of the planet’s energy resources in our hands. The bulk of our forces will move west, where they will join with the other Arab nations at the walls of Jerusalem.
    ‘You will lead the largest part of this army and I can guarantee that you will be the supreme commander.’
    The first drops of rain fell on the sand with small dull thuds, releasing the pleasant odour of doused dust.
    ‘What is your answer, General?’
    Taksoun nervously bit his lower lip. ‘Afterwards . . . what will happen then? A threat like the one you’ve devised can’t be kept up indefinitely. If you keep a pistol pointed at someone’s head for too long without pulling the trigger, sooner or later he’ll manage to surprise you and disarm you.’
    ‘This has been foreseen as well,’ replied Abu Ahmid. ‘It should suffice for you to know that when we’re ready to negotiate, our position will put us at an absolute advantage. Well, General, what is your answer?’
    ‘You seem very sure of yourself, Abu Ahmid,’ said the officer. ‘But if I were to . . .’
    Abu Ahmid watched calmly as the general’s hand settled on the butt of his gun.
    ‘You forget that there’s another person, besides myself, who knows everything about you. If you were to take such a risk, you would never make it back to headquarters, my friend. Isn’t your pilot, by chance, a young lieutenant from Zahko who served up to two weeks ago at the Erbil base and who has the habit of wearing his gun on his right side?’
    Taksoun took a startled look at the helicopter, then seemed to think for a minute. ‘All right.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, you can count on me.’
    ‘And you on me,’ said Abu Ahmid. ‘At any time of day or night and in any weather.’
    The wind blew harder and a flash of lightning lit the swollen clouds waiting on the horizon.
    ‘But how will I—’
    ‘You will never be able to contact me, for the simple reason that you will not know who I might be or where I can be found. I will come looking for you. And find you.’
    ‘Farewell, then, Abu Ahmid.’
    ‘Goodbye, General Taksoun. The day of the military parade is not far off. Allah Akbar.’
    ‘Allah Akbar,’ answered the general.
    He nodded and turned towards the helicopter. The pilot started up the engine and the blades began to rotate faster and faster until the craft lifted into the air. Beneath them, the man wrapped in his keffiyeh became very small, until he disappeared behind a veil of rain. The general looked away and sat thinking as the helicopter flew over the deserted banks of the Euphrates.
    He suddenly turned towards the pilot. ‘Where are you from, lieutenant?’ he asked.
    ‘Town called Zahko, sir,’ the young officer answered.
    T HE SAME DAY , but much later that night, Gad Avner left the National Security Council meeting in a very bad temper. The politicians, as usual, had spent the whole time tearing each other to pieces without reaching any decision regarding his request for a special allocation to reinforce the intelligence services.
    They had asked him for proof, solid evidence that would justify such a large financial commitment, but all he had to offer was an old bloodhound’s sixth sense of danger in the offing. Yes, but something solid, they demanded. Unusual activity in certain circles, edginess in several banking institutes, suspicious transfers of massive sums of capital, disturbing euphoria among political prisoners. And two words: Operation Nebuchadnezzar.
    And you’re asking us to allocate five hundred million shekels on the basis of two words?’ asked the leader of the opposition. ‘What kind of an idiot are you?’
    ‘Do you know who Nebuchadnezzar was?’ replied Avner. ‘The King of Babylon who took Jerusalem in