The Garden of Betrayal - Lee Vance [47]
It was a terse, brutal, and entirely accurate summary of what Senator Simpson’s plan really meant. I wished Rashid had been present yesterday, when Simpson was trying to sell his idea as “energy security.” The world Rashid was describing wasn’t the one I wanted to leave my daughter.
“Is that the prevalent OPEC view?”
“More or less. The heads of the Arab Gulf States understand the danger of their ‘special relationship’ with America, but they’re afraid of Iran and of the extremists in their own populations. The lesson of Kuwait wasn’t lost on anyone. If it wasn’t for Bush forty-one and the U.S. Marines, the emir and his entire clan would be just another group of deposed aristocrats cooling their heels in Paris or London and waiting for their money to run out. The kings and the emirs and the sultans need America for security, so they can continue looting their national treasuries in peace, but they all know they’ve done a deal with the devil. When push comes to shove, America will annex what it needs to annex, and the most the Gulf royalty will be able to hope for is generous severance. The devil always demands his due.”
He was laboring for breath as he finished speaking.
“You’re not well,” I said, furious at myself for letting him become overexcited. No matter how important the issue, I’d been wrong to push him. “I’m sorry. Can I get you something?”
“Just more water,” he muttered, collapsing back into his chair.
I fetched him some and then waited silently until his eyes closed and he began breathing more easily. I was halfway to the door when I heard his voice behind me.
“Send me your information. I’ll look at it and let you know what I think.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling a rush of gratitude. “I appreciate it. I’ll get everything over to you later today.”
I had my hand on the knob when he spoke a second time.
“Would you like some advice?”
I turned to look at him. His eyes were open, and he was smiling at me.
“Please.”
“You should buy a nice piece of land somewhere remote and stock it with goats. Goats are easy to keep and very useful. The meat can be eaten, the hair can be woven into clothing, and the dung can be burned as fuel.”
He was laughing quietly as I left.
14
Amy wasn’t at her desk when I got back to the office, but my new cellphone battery was on my desk, so I knew she couldn’t be far. I checked my computer while I swapped out the battery, to see if the depletion model had finished running yet. No luck—the progress icon was still flashing. I tapped the top of the CPU a few times to hurry it along. Old habits die hard—tapping had made the TV work better when I was a kid.
I dropped the reassembled phone into the charging cradle and then scanned the news. The Ukrainians were still denying everything loudly, but the Russians and the French had gone ominously quiet. Nothing that required my immediate attention. I was starting to go through messages when I noticed Amy bustling my way, a concerned expression on her face.
“Morning,” I said, stepping out from behind my desk to greet her. “What’s up?”
“Morning.” She glanced over her shoulder and then leaned toward me. “Alex is out again today,” she whispered. “There’s a rumor on the floor that Walter’s closing his positions.”
“What positions?” I asked apprehensively.
“All of them.”
I started to swear, catching myself just in time. Having your positions closed is the trading-desk equivalent of having your epaulets ripped off. It meant Alex was out for good, his trading career over, at Cobra and everywhere else—with his track record, no one would be hiring. I was upset with him because I suspected he’d tried to mislead me, but I certainly didn’t want to see him hurt. Although maybe it was for the best, I thought, as the