The Caliphate, André Gallo [best books to read ever .TXT] 📗

answering your mail if you go back out. You can count on me, sir.”

     Josh opened the door to his car and Steve walked away toward his.

***

Steve went to Van Diemen’s office as soon as he returned to the West Gate tower.

     “I just had coffee with the Agency’s West African branch chief,” he said. “They want me to go back to Mali.”

    Van Diemen frowned.

     “For how long?”

     “I don’t know. I’m guessing a week or two.”

     “The last time, the request for your services came to me from the West Gate CEO. It can’t be that important this time. We’re going to ignore the request unless the CEO calls. I don’t mind helping out but we need you here. Well, actually not here exactly. Sit down.”

     Steve sat on a sofa and Van Diemen came from behind his desk to sit on an armchair at right angles to the sofa. Like many of the offices at West Gate, Van Diemen’s office was decorated by plaques and insignias of Air Force units that more or less outlined the office dweller’s career.

     “You did well on that Moroccan deal. You’ll get a considerable bonus. People like you. You establish trusting relationships easily. That’s a definite strength. I’d like you to try some of your magic farther east. We’ve got a lot of contracts in the Middle East with our own Department of Defense, but so far only with the American military. Well, with the Moroccan exception, thanks to you.

     “I’d like you to focus on the mother lode, on Egypt and Israel. U.S. taxpayers are sending more than two billion dollars to Egypt each year in economic and military aid. And a bit more to Israel. Do you think you could go over there and help them figure out how to spend it? I can set up some meetings at the Pentagon for you to get you started. As you can guess, DOD has been working with the Israeli Defense Forces forever and with the Egyptians since the 1979 Camp David Accords, when our government really opened up the purse strings—the reward for making peace with Israel.

    “Anyway, some of my contacts over there can give you the lay of the land, and hopefully some names in Tel Aviv and Cairo. I would start with the Egyptians.”

     Steve listened to Van Diemen’s suggestions, all the while thinking about what he had just learned. Not only was Mel incapacitated by a by-the-numbers way of thinking in a profession where wide mental horizons were absolutely necessary, but her field counterpart Gregory also seemed blinded by ego and ambition.

     He was arriving at the point where he still wanted to stop al Khalil but didn’t think he could do it through the CIA. And, he was angry the commitments made to Karim apparently were not being carried out. He wondered if, somehow, he could help Karim as well as do something to slow al Khalil. But he knew he couldn’t do anything from his West Gate office.

     “You know me,” he told Van Diemen, “anything to get out of the office.”

     Later, he also wondered if he could manipulate this trip into a visit with Kella.

34. Paris

Kella now had dinner at least once a week at the Joulets on Rue de Longchamp. The general’s wife had excused herself knowing that Kella and her husband were about to talk shop. General Joulet had Courvoisier in a large brandy glass.

     “I’ve been through the training,” Kella said. “Now I’m on the Maghreb desk, except that we pretty much also run the CIMETERRE case even though it’s in Mali—it’s so close to the AQIM group, El Maghrebi and his thugs. I’ve gone on an orientation trip to Algiers. I’m providing operational support to DGSE officers in the field. Yet I don’t feel that I’m accomplishing much.”

     She took her earrings off and held them in one hand.

     “To be frank, I’m somewhat disappointed in the people I work with. Most of them are military and they can’t wait to get back with the troops. They’re not happy in an office environment, that’s obvious.”

     Noticing her grandfather’s frown, she added, “Commandant Jocelin is different. He’s okay.”

     She chose not to reveal the growing tension between her and Roger. In spite of their age difference, the captain was showing a strong personal interest in her.

    “Keep in mind that you’re a junior officer fresh out of training,” he said.

     As well as a woman and a civilian in a military culture, she thought.

     “When I was in Timbuktu,” she said, “I learned that al Khalil has UAVs. In fact, I must have told you, one of them shot at our plane. I haven’t seen anything like that in our files. I wonder why.”

     The general blinked in surprise, but she didn’t know quite how to interpret his reaction.

     Joulet swirled the brandy around in his glass and took a sip of his Courvoisier.

     “There have been rumors of UAVs in North Africa, but, as far as I know, no hard information. Did your raise with your supervisor?”

     “I did, but he didn’t seem surprised.”

     She didn’t want to speak out of school about Roger, but she didn’t feel her question had been welcomed. On the contrary, Roger had acted defensively, as if threatened.

     When she drove home that evening, she still felt unsatisfied that the DGSE was the warhorse she needed in the fight against the Salafists. She wanted to speak to Steve.

35. Gaza

Najib Salah fell into step with his brother Mahmoud as they walked toward the city’s Oriental market along with two Hamas guards. They had run into each other leaving one of the Hamas government buildings and were making their way to Najib’s apartment on the other