Books : Consent to Kill : Excerpts

Chapter 2

MECCA, SAUDI ARABIA

I want a man killed."

The words were spoken too loudly, in front of far too many people, and in a setting that hadn't heard such frank talk in decades. Twenty-eight men, bodyguards included, were standing or sitting in the opulent reception hall of Prince Muhammad bin Rashid's palace in Mecca. This was where he held his weekly majlis, or audience, in the desert sheik tradition. Some came to ask favors, many more came just to stay close to the prince, and undoubtedly there were a few who came to spy on behalf of Rashid's half brother the crown prince. Now, any pretense of discreet eavesdropping, normally an art form at these weekly audiences, was dropped. Heads swiveled in the direction of the prince as words hung on lips half spoken.

Prince Muhammad bin Rashid did not look up but could feel the collective gaze of the men around him. He had shown only the briefest discomfort at his friend's brazen request, and it wasn't because it involved killing. Rashid had expected that. For some time now he'd been feeding his friend the information that would incite this desperate plea. In truth the only thing that annoyed him was that his old friend would be so reckless as to utter such a thing in front of so many who could not be trusted. The Kingdom had become a very dangerous place, even for a man as powerful as Muhammad bin Rashid.

Rashid clasped the kneeling man's hand and carefully considered his reply. The request, and what was said next, would be repeated all over the kingdom and beyond by sunset. There was a division in the House of Saud. Brother had been pitted against brother, and Rashid knew he needed to be very careful. Royal family members had already been killed and many more would die before it was over.

Resisting his natural urge to flaunt his Arab bravado, he said, "You must not speak of such things, Saeed. I know the loss of your son has been difficult, but you must remember Allah is mighty, and vengeance is his."

The man replied angrily, "But we are instruments of Allah, and I demand my own vengeance. It is my right."

The prince looked up from the pained face of his old friend, who was kneeling before him and gestured for his aides to clear the room. He then reached out and touched the knee of a man sitting to his right, signaling for him to stay.

After the room was cleared, the prince looked sternly at his friend and said, "You lay at my feet a very serious request."

Tears welled in the eyes of Saeed Ahmed Abdullah. "The infidels have killed my son. He was a good boy." He turned his anguish-filled eyes to the man Rashid had asked to stay: Sheik Ahmed al Ghamdi, the spiritual leader of the Great Mosque in Mecca. "My son was a true believer who answered the call to Jihad. He sacrificed while so many others do nothing." Saeed looked around the large room, hoping to direct some of his anger at the privileged class who talked bravely, threw around money, but gave no blood of their own. He'd been so immersed in his own pain, he hadn't even noticed they'd all left.

Sheik Ahmed nodded benevolently. "Waheed was a brave warrior."

"Very brave." Saeed looked back to his old friend. "We have known each other for a long time. Have you ever known me to be an unreasonable man? Have I ever burdened you with trivial requests?"

Rashid shook his head.

"I would not be here now asking for this if the cowards in Riyadh had honored my simple request and stood up to the Americans. All I asked for was the body of my youngest child, so I could give him a proper burial. Instead, I am told he was defiled by Mitch Rapp so as to intentionally bar him from paradise. What would you expect me to do?"

Rashid sighed and said, "What is it you ask of me?"

"I want you to kill a man for me. It is no more complicated than that. An eye for an eye."

He studied his friend cautiously. "That is no small request."

"I would do it myself," Saeed said eagerly, "but I am naive in such things, whereas you, my old friend, have many contacts in the world of espionage."

For eight years Rashid had been Saudi Arabia's Minister of the Interior, which oversaw the police and intelligence services. Then after 9/11 he was shamefully dismissed by his half brother, the crown prince, when he caved in to pressure from the Americans. Yes, Rashid had the contacts. In fact he had just the person in mind for the job. "Who is this man you want killed?"

"His name is Rapp...Mitch Rapp."

The prince concealed his joy. Caught by surprise, most men with enough sense would have choked on the name, but Rashid had been planning for months. It had started when his friend had asked him to find out what had happened to his son who had left the kingdom to fight in Afghanistan. Rashid had used his sources in the intelligence community and discovered a great deal more than he ever revealed. Slowly, he fed his old friend the information that he knew would lead him to demand nothing short of vengeance.

"Saeed, do you know what you ask of me?" The prince spoke in a well-rehearsed and dire voice. "Do you have any idea who this Mitch Rapp is?"

"He is an assassin, he is an infidel, and he is the man responsible for the death and defilement of my son. That is all I need to know."

"I must caution you," Rashid said very deliberately, "this Mitch Rapp is an extremely dangerous man. He is rumored to be a favorite of the American president and the crown prince as well."

"He is an infidel." The bereaved father repeated as he turned to the religious man. "I have listened to your sermons. Are we not in a war for the survival of Islam? Have you not told us to take up arms against the infidels?"

What little face that could be seen through the thick gray beard showed nothing. The sheik simply closed his eyes and nodded.

Saeed looked back to the prince, his old friend. "I am not a politician or a statesman, or a man of god. I am a businessman. I don't expect either of you to publicly or privately support what I am going to do. All I am asking, Rashid, is that you point me in the right direction. Give me a name. Someone who is wise in these ways, and I will handle the rest."

With the exception of Saeed's public proclamation, Rashid couldn't have been more pleased with how things were proceeding. He had predicted his friend's response almost perfectly. He sat stolidly, not wanting to appear too eager. "Saeed, I know of a man who is very skilled in these things. He is extremely expensive, but knowing you as well as I do, I doubt that will be an issue."

Saeed nodded his head vigorously. He had easily made billions, first by putting up phone and power lines around the kingdom and other countries in the region and now by laying thousands of miles of fiber optic cable.

"I will send him to see you, but you must make no mention of this...our meeting here today. Especially to the man I send. I share your anger, and I wish you success, but you must give me your word as my oldest friend that you will never speak of this to anyone. The Kingdom is a very dangerous place these days, and there are brothers of mine who would not be as sympathetic to your plight as I." Rashid's reference to Saudi Arabia's pro-American government was obvious.

Saeed sneered. "There is much I would like to say, but as you said, the Kingdom is a very dangerous place these days. You have my word. I will speak of this to no one. Not even the man you send."

"Good," smiled Rashid. He stood and helped his friend to his feet. The two began walking across the cavernous room, leaving the cleric sitting alone. "Saeed, operations of this nature are very dangerous. You are entering a cutthroat world, and I advise you to deal only with the man I send. For your own safety, and the safety of your family, speak of this to no one. If you succeed in killing Mr. Rapp, and the Americans find out you were behind it, the crown prince will cut off your head. If you fail, and Mr. Rapp finds out you were behind it...he will visit you and your family with more pain than you can imagine. Do you understand how important your silence is?"

Saeed nodded. "How will I recognize the man you send?"

"He is a German. There will be no mistaking him. He is infinitely capable. Just tell him what you want, and he will take care of the rest."