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Chapter 2

The following day, after the trip’s business had concluded, the party departed for the palace. Sheikh Rashad Al-Mustafa Kamaldien, satisfied with the proceedings, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to enjoy the quiet of the journey. Suddenly, he was jolted from his repose by the sharp crack of gunfire.

They had come under attack. A marauding group of Bedouins in white garb, their faces hidden by scarves, charged from behind high dunes on camels. However, the murdering thieves had miscalculated. Surprised by the sheer number of guards and their superior firepower, the attackers were quickly overwhelmed. After losing half their number in the skirmish, the survivors vanished into the desert as if into thin air.

The convoy stopped to examine the battlefield. As they searched the bodies littering the landscape, the results were not surprising: the men were from across the southern border—nomadic individuals who pledged allegiance to no nation. Moussa reported the findings to the Sheikh with a mix of relief and grim duty. They had lost no men, though three guards had sustained superficial, non-life-threatening wounds.

“We will attend to them properly at the hospital back home,” Moussa noted.

News of the attack spread quickly through the city. Upon hearing the report, Rashad’s mother was nearly overcome with distress; it took a great deal of convincing for the Sheikh to calm her. Driven by this latest incident, Rashad sent a stern message to his country’s neighbours: he would be establishing elite border guard units. Any transgressors stepping across the border would be met with instant, lethal resistance. No questions asked; no quarter given.

As life returned to a semblance of normalcy, Rashad received correspondence from Ali regarding the uranium transport.

“A rail system is not feasible at present,” Ali’s report explained. “It would expose the cargo to planned attacks across vast stretches of desert, incurring impossible costs for safety patrols. Road transportation is the better route. While expensive, it is logistically easier to protect.”

Ali suggested acquiring specialized American vehicles: heavy-duty trucks designed to carry lead-lined containers called “casks.” These vehicles were built to withstand severe accidents and were equipped with law enforcement escorts. On a secure line, Rashad thanked Ali for the research. He then contacted Steven Rock in Chicago to confirm the meeting details.

As the arrangements for the summit took shape, Rashad insisted on specific protocols. Because the meetings could last weeks, he requested that Friday sessions adjourn between 11:30 AM and 2:30 PM for Muslim weekly observance. Furthermore, all food served to the Kqawarrie delegation had to be sourced from a certified Halal supply chain. In a gesture of reciprocity, he noted that if the Americans required Sundays off for their own religious observances, it would be fully respected.

While reviewing the American roster, Rashad recognized several names: Travis Landon, Head of the FBI; Graham Rogers, leader of the CIA; and General “Crazy Joe” Black. However, one name stood out: Ester Van Dhoon.

Recorded as the representative for the Secretary of State, Van Dhoon piqued the Sheikh’s curiosity. He ran a background check and discovered she was a former Navy SEAL. She had led a daring HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) jump into Nigeria to neutralize a warlord, retiring to a pre-arranged extraction point by submarine.

Looking at her official photograph, Rashad saw a woman who was both a seasoned warrior and strikingly beautiful. The uniform could not hide her poise. For the first time, he found himself genuinely looking forward to a diplomatic meeting.

The month of Ramadan passed, occupied by prayer and daily obligations. Once the sighting of the moon signalled the end of the fast, Rashad turned his full attention to the voyage. He summoned his inner circle: Moussa, Farouk, and Daniel Weiss.

“We have a mission,” Rashad told them in the palace sanctuary. “America is providing a jet for our trip—a former Air Force One—and we will be escorted by four long-range stealth B-2 fighter jets. Our flight path remains classified until takeoff.”

The group shared a final moment of camaraderie. Rashad hugged Ali, his childhood friend, with a heavy heart, unsure of when they would meet again.

“Say your goodbyes tonight,” the Sheikh instructed. “For me, it will be a difficult parting; my mother is beside herself. But we depart on Wednesday. Thursday, we begin the boardroom battle in New York.”

On Wednesday, the party was whisked to the airport and welcomed aboard the massive aircraft by an American Major General. Rashad was shown to a private, fully equipped office. He was impressed by the secure computer setup and the private amenities, including a personal shower.

As the plane taxied and accelerated, the sheer power of the engines provided an exhilarating sense of speed. Once airborne, the delegation was permitted to open the window covers. Those with window seats gasped; flying tight to their wings were the sleek, dark silhouettes of the stealth escorts.

Special meals were served—Halal for the Sheikh’s entourage and Kosher for Daniel, who, as a Messianic Jew, maintained traditional dietary laws. The journey, which could have been tedious, felt swift.

“Please be seated, and strap in,” the intercom finally crackled. “We are beginning our descent into John F. Kennedy International Airport.”

The Sheikh straightened his robes. The desert was far behind them; the skyscrapers of New York awaited.