guess that these would be of more interest than the ones he’d found in the prime minister’s desk. He copied each of them, then set them aside. There was a .357 Magnum, complete with holster and cartridges. His brows raised. El-Dabir believed in heavy firepower.
A small black notebook was in the back, so Walker withdrew it and copied each of its pages, then replaced it. A bundle of photos revealed that the prime minister had a penchant for porn. Those were the only objects in the safe, and all of them were perched atop some stacked bundles. Examining one of them, he gave a silent whistle. Each package was full of one hundred dollar bills, U.S. currency. And there were at least fifty packages.
It was late when Jasmine entered her room. Stripping off the caftan, she hung it on a hanger. Then with a sigh of relief, she unfastened the Velcro straps of the specially designed undergarment she wore.
It covered her from breasts to hips, and completely changed the shape of her body, flattening her chest and adding pounds to her middle. It was exceedingly hot and not very comfortable, but would effectively throw off any description of her. She slipped into a short silky nightgown and went to the adjoining bathroom to brush her teeth.
And nearly had a heart attack when a hand clapped over her mouth, pulling her hard against a solid masculine chest.
“Quiet.”
The word, breathed in her ear, was accompanied by a push to the door, shutting it. Only then was the hand removed from her mouth. Her elbow came out then, slamming into Walker’s ribs. She was annoyed enough with him to be pleased by his hiss of pain.
“What are you doing in my bathroom?” Her words were whispered, but didn’t lack vehemence.
“Getting the hell beat out of me, apparently. Turn on the shower. Cold water.”
She did so, waited until the water was beating a solid spray, then turned around. He must have found, as she had, that there was no listening device planted in the bathroom, which wasn’t surprising. The moisture in the air would have interfered with its functioning. The sound of the shower running was just a precaution. Walker was nothing if not careful.
He was still dressed as he’d been at dinner, and an unwelcome shiver chased down her spine. He had seemed to arouse no undue curiosity from the men at the dinner tonight, but he’d been the object of many surreptitious glances from the ladies. Being female herself, she could appreciate their interest. On a purely objective level, of course.
The solid black he’d chosen only accentuated the aura of sexuality he exuded. Other men wouldn’t pick up on such a thing, but it was certain that women did. It was something that couldn’t be disguised. She wondered if he was even aware of it, and then decided in the next instant that he was. He was entirely too confident around women for it to be otherwise.
“Here.” He unfolded a small handheld machine and pressed a button. Instantly a screen display on one side lit up. “I want you to skim through these, see if any of it’s important. It would take me all night to decipher the Arabic.”
She took the machine from him, turning it one way and then another to examine it. “What is this?” she asked, marveling at the technology. She’d never seen anything like it.
He explained how it could copy documents, storing them for later retrieval. She was impressed, and said so. Her method of taking pictures of records to be blown up for later reading was a more time-consuming process.
“If I promise to get you one of your own, would you stop playing with it and get to work?”
She looked up at him in quick delight. “You will do that?”
He stared at her silently for a minute, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, but only if you quit talking and start interpreting.”
Happily, Jasmine did as he requested. She had a deep and abiding appreciation for new gadgets, secondary only to her love for clothes. He showed her how to scroll down the screen and flip to the next document.
“Correspondence only,” she said after a few minutes. “The first few appear to be from city officials of Redyshah regarding a public building being constructed.” A moment later she said, “Here is a letter from a man named Ali bin-Sadin.” Although he didn’t make a sound, she felt Walker’s reaction in the sudden tenseness of his body. She glanced up. “You know of this man?”
“He’s a suspected terrorist from Yanda.” The rogue nation was a known haven for terrorists acting against western nations. “What’s it say?”
Jasmine scrolled down on the screen. “He thanks Hosni El-Dabir for his hospitality.” She was silent a moment as she read on. “He says the sympathies of his group lie with Maloun and he is certain they can do business together again in the future.” She considered for a moment. “Perhaps El-Dabir introduced the man to the Brothers of Darkness.”
“Maybe. The prime minister might be lining up support for the action the Brothers are planning to take against Tamir.” She continued to flip through copies of the pages as he spoke. “It’s believed that bin-Sadin has a training camp somewhere in Yanda. He uses it to teach terrorist techniques to new recruits.”
But she was absorbed in the information on the screen. “After the correspondence there are bank records.”
Interest sharpening his voice, Walker said, “Probably from the safe I found. Where are the banks?”
“The Cayman Islands,” she said after a moment. Her brows raised. “Our host is a wealthy man. He has more than a half a million dollars in these accounts.”
“And another hundred grand of U.S. currency in his safe.”
“Either being a public servant in Maloun is very lucrative, or he is not above bribery.”
“Since he’s only a puppet of the Brothers, I’d say his personal integrity is hardly in question,” Walker said dryly. “What else is on there?”
“The last few pages are names, followed by dates and U.S. dollar amounts. The period of time appears to be…” She checked back a few pages, then flipped forward. “Over the last five years.”
“Any names you recognize?”
“The largest amounts have one of two names beside them. The first is Bonlei Marakeh. He was here tonight.”
“Which one was he?”
“He was the last to arrive.”
“The guy who wouldn’t let go of your hand when you were introduced?”
There was a note she couldn’t identify in his voice. “I believe the one you are thinking of was Ari Toudan. He was…attentive.”
“Yeah, I noticed he was especially attentive to your chest. Describe this Marakeh for me.”
“Five five or six, one hundred forty pounds, sixty to sixty-five years old.”
“Leathery complexion—sat at the head of the table?” At her assent, Walker gave a satisfied nod. “I’m guessing he’s affiliated with the Brothers. I overheard him and El-Dabir talking, and from the little I could make out, it sounded like the prime minister was taking orders from him.”
Jasmine
