41

Kailea thought Mashrawi looked stung by the question.

His eyes narrowed. His smile dampened, though only for a moment. “Well, it didn’t take long to bring up our worst moment, now did it?” he replied.

“I mean no disrespect, Dr. Mashrawi,” Marcus assured him. “But we’re not here as tourists. At least one world leader has been assassinated on this site. It’s our job to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Of course. And unfortunately, it is true. His Majesty King Abdullah I —the man who served as the first ruler of Transjordan and soon thereafter as the first monarch of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan —was tragically murdered here, on this mountain, on July 20, 1951. However, I cannot show you the exact spot, nor take you on a tour of the mosque or the Dome of the Rock. Not right now. Trust me, you will have access to everything. But you have to understand, these two facilities are usually off-limits to non-Muslims. So we have to do things in as low-key a manner as possible. The last thing we want to do is draw the attention of the locals or the press.”

Mashrawi explained they would come back later that night, when the entire plaza was closed to visitors and thus deserted. From 10 p.m. until 4 a.m., they would walk through both sacred structures and discuss anything and everything they desired. For now, however, he led them to a conference room in the offices of the Waqf and introduced them to the Grand Mufti.

“Welcome to al-Quds,” said Amin al-Azzam, using the Arabic word for Jerusalem. “Dr. Mashrawi and I are humbled by your visit, and we stand ready to help you in any way we can. I trust he has expressed my profound regret at the murder of so many Americans, including members of your government, at the hands of terrorists in recent days. We are praying to Allah for the speedy recovery of all the survivors and for the comfort of all the families and friends of the deceased. We know what it means to suffer such great loss, and it pains us to see others go through what we have.”

The Grand Mufti then apologized that there had been a scheduling confusion and that he was supposed to leave at that very moment for Ramallah to meet with the president of the Palestinian Authority. But he invited them all to dine with him at his home the following night and promised they could talk late into the night on whatever topics they wished.

“That is very kind,” said Deputy Director Roseboro. “We look forward to that.”

Everyone around the table smiled and nodded. Everyone, that is, except Marcus, who now cleared his throat and inquired as to whether he could ask one quick question. “I understand that you’re pressed for time, but this will only take a moment,” Marcus promised.

“Of course,” said al-Azzam. “What is your question?”

Kailea braced for impact. She didn’t know exactly what was coming, but she could see anger in her partner’s eyes.

“Over the past few days, I’ve been reading your sermons, interviews you’ve given to the media, articles you have written, and so forth,” Marcus explained. “And I have to admit, I’m concerned by your history of denouncing Israeli prime ministers as ‘brutal and bloodthirsty occupiers.’ You have repeatedly attacked American Jewish and evangelical leaders and their support of Israel as the ‘racist rantings of ultra-wealthy imperialists and colonialists.’ And you’ve had no shortage of criticism of our current president as ‘thoroughly anti-Palestinian’ and a ‘cancer on the international body politic that must be eradicated if there will ever be peace.’”

It was as if the wind had been sucked from the room. Even though it was all true, was this the place of a DSS agent, Kailea wondered, particularly one who had been on the job for less than a month?

“In other words, you have a history of stoking anti-American and anti-Israeli sentiments while refusing to denounce the actions of Palestinian suicide bombers, rocket attacks against Israeli civilians, and other forms of Palestinian violence over the years,” Marcus added, deepening Kailea’s anxieties. “My question is, in light of your deep-seated hostility and support for violence to achieve Palestinian objectives, is there a reason we should not be concerned for the safety of our president if he were to visit here in the next few weeks?”

Kailea wasn’t the only one to visibly stiffen, though Tomer seemed nonplussed. Roseboro looked furious. So did Dr. Mashrawi, the director of the Waqf. To Kailea’s surprise, however, the Grand Mufti himself did not seem bothered. He rather welcomed the question.

“I appreciate your candor, Agent Ryker,” al-Azzam said softly. “I make no apology for my displeasure with Israel’s military occupation of my people’s land. And I would be less than honest with you if I said I haven’t been deeply concerned by President Clarke’s attitude and actions toward my people and their aspirations.”

It occurred to Kailea that Marcus had not introduced himself to the Grand Mufti. None of them had. So she found it curious that al-Azzam already knew who Marcus was.

“That said, I am choosing to keep an open mind about the president’s plan until I have read it thoroughly and can judge it for myself,” the Grand Mufti continued. “Many of my friends and colleagues have chosen a different path. They have already concluded that they cannot trust your president. They are highly cynical about his motives, and they cannot begin to imagine that he will bring justice to the plight we have suffered under the occupation for so many decades. Perhaps I am in the minority when I say I hope your president proves us all wrong and truly offers us a peaceful way out of this painful and perennial conflict. At present, I am no fan of your president. But in the hopes of a better future, I will welcome him and afford him the respect that he and his office demand.”

The room was silent, but for an unanswered phone ringing in a nearby office. All eyes shifted back to Marcus, who finally nodded and conveyed his appreciation to the Grand Mufti for providing a reply.

Roseboro seized the brief moment of détente to thank the Grand Mufti for his hospitality and end the meeting.

Smart move, thought Kailea. Roseboro wasn’t just good at protection; he had over his years in the Secret Service become an effective diplomat as well. Still, the problem remained. What were they going to do about Ryker? Their mission here was already sensitive enough. Why was this guy so seemingly intent on making it that much harder?