The Teeth of the Tiger - Tom Clancy [18]
"Yes, that is the truth," Pablo had to agree. "The enemies part, that is. What of the interests?"
"You have assets for which we have use. We have assets for which you have use," the Muslim explained patiently.
"I see." Pablo added cream to his coffee and stirred. To his surprise, the coffee here was as good as in his own country.
He'd be slow to reach an agreement, Mohammed expected. His guest was not as senior as he would have preferred. But the enemy they shared had enjoyed greater success against Pablo's organization than his own. It continued to surprise him. They had ample reason to employ effective security measures, but as with all monetarily motivated people they lacked the purity of purpose that his own colleagues exercised. And from that fact came their higher vulnerability. But Mohammed was not so foolish as to assume that made them his inferiors. Killing one Israeli spy didn't make him Superman, after all. Clearly they had ample expertise. It just had limits. As his own people had limits. As everyone but Allah Himself had limits. In that knowledge came more realistic expectations, and gentler disappointments when things went badly. One could not allow emotions to get in the way of "business," as his guest would have misidentified his Holy Cause. But he was dealing with an unbeliever, and allowances had to be made.
"What can you offer us?" Pablo asked, displaying his greed, much as Mohammed had expected.
"You need to establish a reliable network in Europe, correct?"
"Yes, we do." They'd had a little trouble of late. European police agencies were not as restrained as the American sort.
"We have such a network." And since Muslims were not thought to be active in the drug trade-drug dealers often lost their heads in Saudi Arabia, for example-so much the better.
"In return for what?"
"You have a highly successful network in America, and you have reason to dislike America, do you not?"
"That is so," Pablo agreed. Colombia was starting to make progress with the Cartel's uneasy ideological allies in the mountains of Pablo's home country. Sooner or later, the FARC would cave in to the pressure and then, doubtless, turn on their "friends"-really "associates" was a loose enough word-as their price of admission to the democratic process. At that time, the security of the Cartel might be seriously threatened. Political instability was their best friend in South America, but that might not last forever. The same was true of his host, Pablo considered, and that did make them allies of convenience. "Precisely what services would you require of us?"
Mohammed told him. He didn't add that no money would be exchanged for the Cartel's service. The first shipment that Mohammed's people shepherded into-Greece? Yes, that would probably be the easiest-would be sufficient to seal the venture, wouldn't it?
"That is all?"
"My friend, more than anything else we trade in ideas, not physical objects. The few material items we need are quite compact, and can be obtained locally if necessary. And I have no doubt that you can help with travel documents."
Pablo nearly choked on his coffee. "Yes, that is easily done."
"So, is there any reason why this alliance cannot be struck?"
"I must discuss it with my superiors," Pablo cautioned, "but on the surface I see no reason why our interests should be in conflict."
"Excellent. How may we communicate further?"
"My boss prefers to meet those with whom he does business." Mohammed thought that over. Travel made him and his associates nervous, but there was no avoiding it. And he did have enough passports to see him through the airports of the world. And he also had the necessary language skills. His education at Cambridge had not been wasted.