each other, Zaidi was highly influential and a great partner to have for any endeavor. In his late forties, Zaidi had an appearance of determination and calculated calm, never showing any of his thoughts or feelings. His face, covered with the typical beard Iraqi nationals liked to wear, was impenetrable and seemed entirely immobile and expressionless. He wore sunglasses at all times, even indoors, hiding his eyes behind dark lenses. He was a hard man to read.
Minutes later, after Myatlev had dressed appropriately for the occasion, they took their seats at a dining table brought up by the hotel staff, set to perfection with white brocade linens, silver accouterments, and Bohemia Crystal glasses. Myatlev’s bodyguards had taken positions, guarding them as they ate, from a polite distance.
“I have a proposition for you, Mr. Zaidi,” Myatlev said, immediately after his guest had finished the soup.
Zaidi made an inviting gesture with his hand.
“I am assembling a small group of very influential, very wealthy individuals,” Myatlev continued, “whose global interests are aligned. Several countries are represented in our Council, and yours is one of the countries that should hold a seat in this association of common goals.” Myatlev paused, gauging his guest’s interest level. Zaidi’s eyes flickered for a split second, barely visible behind his tinted lenses, but he remained silent.
“There are many things we can do for each other,” Myatlev continued, “and even more things we can do together. United.” He stopped and focused on the schnitzel in front of him, savoring a piece of it with his eyes half closed in delight.
Finally, Zaidi spoke. “Which countries are represented on your council?”
“So far, Iran, Afghanistan, India, Pakistan, and of course, Russia.”
“How many representatives are you inviting from each of these countries?”
“Only one,” Myatlev said gravely.
They ate silently for a few seconds.
“And what is the mandate?”
“Over the past few decades we have observed how America has turned into the world’s most arrogant bully, fortifying their super-power position in the world and stopping at nothing to maintain that power and increase its wealth. The American domineering way to meddle in other countries’ internal affairs has reached an unprecedented level of insolence, causing significant concern for several countries.”
“Oh . . . So your mandate is anti-American?” Zaidi asked abruptly.
“Our mandate is to establish a new world order, where we don’t have the high-and-mighty Americans dictating how we conduct our internal political and economic affairs. Our mandate is to fix the balance of power in the world and restore other nations’ rights to decide for themselves.”
Myatlev took another bite of schnitzel, allowing Zaidi time to consider his proposal.
“How are you planning to pursue this goal? Politically? Engaging in violence?”
“That would be for the Council to decide, depending on what actions we decide to take.”
“I see,” Zaidi said and then promptly touched his mouth with the white napkin, marking the end of his meal. “I am very honored by your consideration, but this is not something that I am inclined to be a part of. I would also like to wish you all success with this initiative.”
“Would you like some dessert?” Myatlev asked, unperturbed. His eyes encouraged Zaidi to accept his offer, then shifted slightly to catch Ivan’s gaze. Myatlev nodded almost imperceptibly, and his bodyguard nodded in response.
“No, I have to decline, I’m afraid. It has been a very satisfying meal; thank you for your hospitality,” Zaidi said.
Ivan approached Zaidi from behind and grabbed his head with his right arm, immobilizing it as he placed a napkin soaked in chloroform over his nose. Zaidi struggled for a few seconds and then fell inert. The two bodyguards grabbed Zaidi quietly and took him to the other room. At some point in the very near future, they would get him out of the hotel in a suitcase, shoot him in the head somewhere, and throw his body in the Danube.
You can’t win every time, Myatlev thought bitterly and took a sip of wine. He had to be more careful next time.
...7
...Wednesday, December 23, 8:52PM PST (UTC-8:00 hours)
...Reno Tahoe International Airport, Rental Car Terminal
...Reno, Nevada
“Here you go, Miss Roberts, if you’ll sign here, and here.” The courteous car rental employee pointed out several places on the form. “We’ll get you ready to go in just a second.”
“What kind of car are you giving me? Can I have a GPS, please?” Laura asked impatiently, running her fingers through her long, black hair and placing a few rebel strands behind her left ear. The man she was traveling with put his