Read Online THE SPANISH REVENGE (Craig Page series) by Allan Topol - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Allan Topol
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be in a hurry. Deliberate and meticulous planning was the secret to our success today.”
They finished the bottle of Dom Perignon and opened a second. Midway through that, Omar said to Musa, “Lila, Kemal’s sister.”
“What about her?”
“If Kemal gave her information about our location here inMorocco, she could be a real threat. Perhaps …” Omar was selecting his words carefully. “Perhaps we should eliminate Lila.”
“I don’t think Kemal told her anything.”
“But we can’t be sure.”
Musa laughed. “You never did like her, because she wouldn’t sleep with you. Now you want to get even with her.”
Omar looked embarrassed, “How do you know that?”
“She told me. Once when we were in bed together.”
Omar looked confused. “You had sex with her?”
“Several times, but in all honesty, you didn’t miss much. She wasn’t very good.”
“That’s not what this is about. I do think she could pose a threat and should be eliminated.”
Musa had always liked Lila from the time they were young children. He hoped that wasn’t clouding his judgment. “Perhaps you’re right. Let me think about it. If I decide to act, I know someone in Marseilles who could take care of her.”
9
MADRID
Craig, with Giuseppe at his side, walked in to the Spanish Prime Minister’s cavernous office. Photos of Zahara with other world leaders lined one wall. On another, hung a portrait of the Prime Minister. Alvarez and Carlos were already there.
Looking pale, the Prime Minister remained seated behind his red leather-topped desk. “The death toll has risen to seventy fatalities,” he said grimly.
“I’m very sorry,” Craig said. “I don’t have words to express how sorry I am.”
“You should be,” Alvarez retorted. “I wanted to cancel all the trains this morning, but you insisted they were safe.”
Flabbergasted, Craig was framing his response to that blatant lie when the Prime Minister said to Alvarez, “Shut up. I don’t want to hear anymore from you.”
“Humph,” Alvarez snarled, his face beet red.
At that moment, Craig’s respect for the Prime Minister increased. He obviously knew his Defense Minister. Zahara turned to Craig. “I don’t blame you. I blame myself. I could have cancelled all the trains this morning. You told me everything. I knew the risks. It was my decision.”
“Thank you sir, but still …”
“Tell me what happened.”
Craig described in detail the bombing and the death of the bomber. He explained that the bomb was sophisticated, state of the art, produced in China, and activated by remote control.
“Judging from the bomber’s appearance, what do you think? Basque or Arab?”
“Ethnically, from North Africa. Arab or Berber. Perhaps Somali. Possibly Iranian.”
“But he could be a Spanish citizen?”
“For sure.”
“I assume he didn’t have any ID?”
“Correct. But I’ve had your forensic people from Seville lift fingerprints and circulate them throughout the EU. They’re supposed to notify me if they get any hits.”
Craig pulled the Blackberry from his pocket and looked at it. Nothing. He laid it down on the table. The Prime Minister asked, “Has any group claimed responsibility?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“It’s probably the Basques.”
“Al Qaeda would be my guess.”
Zahara ignored Craig’s words. “I’ve done everything to mollify the Basques, but I won’t dismember this country … even through there are many in Catalonia who would like that.”
“Perhaps someone will step forward and take credit,” Craig said.
The Prime Minister was walking around the office, deep in thought. “I guess we have to assume there will be other attacks.”
“Unfortunately, that’s correct.”
“We owe the people some explanation. I’ll have my press secretary prepare a statement which I can give on Spanish television. I’d like you to review it.”
“Be happy to.”
“Meantime, I want you to arrange a CNN interview for
They finished the bottle of Dom Perignon and opened a second. Midway through that, Omar said to Musa, “Lila, Kemal’s sister.”
“What about her?”
“If Kemal gave her information about our location here inMorocco, she could be a real threat. Perhaps …” Omar was selecting his words carefully. “Perhaps we should eliminate Lila.”
“I don’t think Kemal told her anything.”
“But we can’t be sure.”
Musa laughed. “You never did like her, because she wouldn’t sleep with you. Now you want to get even with her.”
Omar looked embarrassed, “How do you know that?”
“She told me. Once when we were in bed together.”
Omar looked confused. “You had sex with her?”
“Several times, but in all honesty, you didn’t miss much. She wasn’t very good.”
“That’s not what this is about. I do think she could pose a threat and should be eliminated.”
Musa had always liked Lila from the time they were young children. He hoped that wasn’t clouding his judgment. “Perhaps you’re right. Let me think about it. If I decide to act, I know someone in Marseilles who could take care of her.”
9
MADRID
Craig, with Giuseppe at his side, walked in to the Spanish Prime Minister’s cavernous office. Photos of Zahara with other world leaders lined one wall. On another, hung a portrait of the Prime Minister. Alvarez and Carlos were already there.
Looking pale, the Prime Minister remained seated behind his red leather-topped desk. “The death toll has risen to seventy fatalities,” he said grimly.
“I’m very sorry,” Craig said. “I don’t have words to express how sorry I am.”
“You should be,” Alvarez retorted. “I wanted to cancel all the trains this morning, but you insisted they were safe.”
Flabbergasted, Craig was framing his response to that blatant lie when the Prime Minister said to Alvarez, “Shut up. I don’t want to hear anymore from you.”
“Humph,” Alvarez snarled, his face beet red.
At that moment, Craig’s respect for the Prime Minister increased. He obviously knew his Defense Minister. Zahara turned to Craig. “I don’t blame you. I blame myself. I could have cancelled all the trains this morning. You told me everything. I knew the risks. It was my decision.”
“Thank you sir, but still …”
“Tell me what happened.”
Craig described in detail the bombing and the death of the bomber. He explained that the bomb was sophisticated, state of the art, produced in China, and activated by remote control.
“Judging from the bomber’s appearance, what do you think? Basque or Arab?”
“Ethnically, from North Africa. Arab or Berber. Perhaps Somali. Possibly Iranian.”
“But he could be a Spanish citizen?”
“For sure.”
“I assume he didn’t have any ID?”
“Correct. But I’ve had your forensic people from Seville lift fingerprints and circulate them throughout the EU. They’re supposed to notify me if they get any hits.”
Craig pulled the Blackberry from his pocket and looked at it. Nothing. He laid it down on the table. The Prime Minister asked, “Has any group claimed responsibility?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“It’s probably the Basques.”
“Al Qaeda would be my guess.”
Zahara ignored Craig’s words. “I’ve done everything to mollify the Basques, but I won’t dismember this country … even through there are many in Catalonia who would like that.”
“Perhaps someone will step forward and take credit,” Craig said.
The Prime Minister was walking around the office, deep in thought. “I guess we have to assume there will be other attacks.”
“Unfortunately, that’s correct.”
“We owe the people some explanation. I’ll have my press secretary prepare a statement which I can give on Spanish television. I’d like you to review it.”
“Be happy to.”
“Meantime, I want you to arrange a CNN interview for
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