The Bourne Deception - By Robert Ludlum & Eric van Lustbader Page 0,19
has as much information about the Egyptiansespecially the members of al Mokhabarat, because Secretary Halliday is correct about themas is possible. That knowledge may well prove critical.
The president pondered for no more than a moment. Then he nodded. Director, your proposal makes sense, lets run with it. Get Director Moore up to speed.
Hart smiled. Time to press her advantage. She may have some people
The president nodded at once. Whatever she needs. This is no time for half measures.
Hart was looking at Halliday, who was directing a poisoned glare in her direction, to which she smiled sweetly as the meeting adjourned.
She exited the West Wing quickly to avoid another vitriolic confrontation with the defense secretary, and took the short ride back to CI headquarters, where she summoned Soraya Moore to her office.
Abdulla Khoury was on his way from the Starnberger See to the headquarters of the Eastern Brotherhood less than ten miles away. Behind him, the snowcapped Alps and the icy blue water of the lakethe fourth largest in Germanysparkled in the sun. Brightly colored sails rose above sleek boats, and yachts plied the lake. There was no room for such frivolous recreation as sailing in Khourys life, even before he became head of the Eastern Brotherhood. His life had taken a serious turn when, at the age of seven, he had discovered his calling as Allahs earthly messenger. It was a calling he had kept to himself for a long time, intuiting that no one would believe him, least of all his father, who treated his children even worse than he did his wife.
Khoury was born with the patience of a tortoise. Even when he was a child he had no difficulty waiting for the opportune moment to take advantage of a situation. Not surprisingly, his preternatural serenity was misinterpreted as a form of idiocy by his father, and all of his instructors save one, who saw in the boy the holy spark Allah had placed there at the moment of his conception. From that moment on, Khourys life changed. He began to frequent this instructors house after hours for advanced lessons. The man lived alone and welcomed Khoury as his acolyte and protégé.
As a young adult, he had joined the Eastern Brotherhood, patiently moving up in the hierarchy. He did this in his characteristic manner, by winnowing out the wheat from the chaff. In his case the wheat was represented by those in the organization who shared his strict views of Islam. It was he who brought them the notion of fighting for change from within. His was a naturally subversive nature; he was superb at undermining the current order to make way for his own. This he accomplished slowly and carefully, always flying under the twin radars of Semion Icoupov and Asher Sever, because these were not men to be taken lightly or to engage as antagonists without every form of advantage imaginable. He was still amassing his arsenal of such advantages when they were both killed, leaving a vast and intimidating power vacuum.
Not for Abdulla Khoury. Seizing his moment while the Eastern Brotherhood was still in shock, he took control of the organization. Ripping a page from Icoupovs strategic manual, he quickly installed his compatriots in all key positions within the Eastern Brotherhood, thereby ensuring both the short- and the long-term success of his coup.
The motorcade came to a halt at the first of his three stops before he returned to his headquarters. There were lieutenants responsible for two areas of the Middle East and one for Africa whom he needed to brief on the latest developments inside Iran.
As the motorcade took him from one briefing to another, he couldnt help but reflect on the recent interference from Leonid Arkadin. Hed dealt with men like Arkadin before, people who believed that all situations could be settled with the flaming barrel of a gun, weaponized men without faith to guide them, for what use was a weapon if it wasnt in the service of Allah and Islam? He knew something of Leonid Danilovich Arkadins background: He had come to be a killer of killers through hiring himself out to various Moscow grupperovka. It was said he was close with Dimitri Maslov, the head of the Kazanskaya, but not as close as he had been with his mentor, Semion Icoupov, before hed turned on Icoupov and killed him. Perhaps not surprising, since Arkadin had been born and raised in Nizhny Tagil, a hell on earth that could only exist