Trusting A Sheikh (Playgrounds of Power 1) (10 page)

"Great. Rashid, I'm Katie Morgan, the presenter of This Morning on Channel Six."

"Thanks for having me, Katie."

"No, thank you so much for agreeing to be on the show. So, Rashid, I'm assuming that Prince Tariq's ongoing visit to the Earls Court Arms Fair hasn't escaped you?"

"No, Katie. I'm very much aware of
Prince
," he hissed the honorific as though it were some kind of unmentionable, disgusting disease, "Tariq's trip to the UK. In fact, I protested strongly to the Home Office that he not be allowed to visit."

"And your protests fell on deaf ears?" the presenter crooned.

"Listen, Katie. I don't have anything against Prince Tariq personally – for all I know, he's a wonderful man. All I have a problem with is the regime that he represents – but that's a very big problem."

"So, Rashid, we might have some listeners at home who haven't heard too much about what's going on – can you give us a little summary?"

"It'd be my pleasure, Katie. I think your viewers need to understand just how reprehensible the Saudi regime can be – it's no secret that they have launched an indiscriminate attack on human rights not only within Saudi Arabia itself, but across the region more generally. Now they've launched an illegal war in Yemen, killing thousands of innocent noncombatants, and they've come to the UK trying to buy weapons to further this horrendous, illegitimate cause. I urge all your viewers to write or call their Member of Parliament and express their dissatisfaction that this man has been allowed into the country at all."

"Rashid, that's a very strong criticism indeed," the beautiful presenter batted back. "And why exactly do you think it is that the government allowed Prince Tariq to enter the country?"

Chloe could almost see the dissident's eyes roll back into his skull as he had to deal with the idiotic question from the morning television presenter. She empathized with the man – it was such a stupid question.

"Well, as I'm sure you know, Katie – he's a member of the Saudi government, so the Home Office doesn't actually have the legal power to prevent him from entering the country."

The presenter took it in stride. Chloe was sure she dealt with this kind of situation all day every day, and while she might not be too well versed in the intricacies of international law, she was nonetheless a model professional.

"In that case, Rashid, what is it exactly that you're asking people to say to their MPs?"

"It's simple, Katie – we need people all over this country to put pressure on the government not to allow the sale of advanced weaponry to this reprehensible regime. If people lean on the government, then the government will have no choice but to stop these arms sales from going ahead, and I believe that the British people don't want to sell weapons that will inevitably end up killing women and children across the Middle East."

"And that was Rashid Al Mansouri, the famous Saudi human rights protester, coming to us live from outside the Houses of Parliament in Westminster. After the commercial break, we've got Paul Gibson, our resident car expert, who will be giving us his time-tested top tips this winter for keeping your car out of the garage."

Chloe had already tuned out, knowing that the shit had just hit the fan – and that she needed to go straight back to the Presidential Suite. But more importantly – and she hadn't completely figured out her position on this yet – her outlook on Prince Tariq just changed, and not for the better.

C
HLOE HAD ONLY LEFT
the Presidential Suite a short hour or so before, but the place was essentially unrecognizable when she returned – it had become a hive of activity, with harried looking embassy staffers rushing about carrying sheaves of paper or barking into cellphones clapped firmly to the ears.

Chloe hung around the periphery of the room, just wanting to watch for now, and knowing that – for her own peace of mind as much as anything – she needed to do some digging on exactly what Prince Tariq was supposed to be doing on his trip to London.

The thought constantly running through Chloe's mind, the thought that hadn't given her a second of peace since she'd flicked on the television earlier that morning, was simple. Had she unwittingly been helping the Prince buy weapons with which to oppress the people of Saudi Arabia? And if, as seemed increasingly likely to be the case, she had – then what could she do about it?

"Chloe!" a concerned looking Prince Tariq called from the other side of the enormous suite, waving her over. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, one that she wouldn't have imagined feeling upon seeing him only the day before, she went over.

"What's going on?" she asked, as though she hadn't seen a thing.

"A fucking disaster, that's what," he replied. "Have you seen the news?"

"No," Chloe lied. "What happened – something serious?"

Tariq gave her a strange look, as though he suspected she wasn't telling the entire truth, though Chloe had no idea how he would be able to tell, but then shook his head as if to dismiss the suspicion.

"Everything's screwed up. Some exiled Saudi I've never heard of came onto breakfast television this morning and called out my visit, saying that the British government should practically kick me out the country and stop me from conducting business."

"How can they stop you doing business?" Chloe asked, genuinely curious – and also attempting to pry.

"They can pressure companies into backing out of deals. I'm already getting worried calls from back home. People are nervous."

"Why would they want to stop you buying body armor?" Chloe asked sweetly, increasingly certain that buying body armor wasn't the only reason the handsome Prince had flown into London.

"It's… It's more complicated than that, Chloe." Tariq sighed, closing his eyes and massaging his temples. For a second, Chloe almost felt sorry for him, before she realized what he was in the country to do.

"So, tell me the truth," she said quietly so that no one else in the room could hear – she got the sense that for some of the more conservative embassy diplomats, the sight of a woman questioning their prince might be intolerable. "What are you over here to do?"

He looked up and gave her that same, curious look.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked. He didn't say it, but the subtext was –
why does it matter to you?

The truth was, Chloe didn't know, or at least, not exactly. There were things that she remembered from her childhood, things that her father had said about their background that made her instinctively recoil when thinking about the arms trade in general, and Saudi Arabia in particular. But how could she explain that to Tariq?

"It's… complicated," she said, finally squeezing the words out.

"It always is." Tariq sighed, gesturing with his hands in a tired manner.

"You want the truth?"

"Always."

"My family fled Saudi Arabia when I was just a girl – I don't know the specifics, but I know enough not to want to be involved in helping your country buy weapons. Not that I'll have a choice, if I want to keep my job," Chloe reflected.

Tariq studied her for a long moment before replying. "That explains a lot. Is that why you were so, what's the word,
cool
to me when I first arrived?"

"I suppose so," Chloe said coldly, not sure where this was going.

He cracked a weak smile. "I'm not used to that."

Chloe didn't reciprocate. "No time for humor?" the Prince continued. "I suppose not. I'll tell you the truth – there are a thousand things I'd rather be over here doing other than buying planes and tanks. But we're both in a difficult situation. We're going to have to make the best of a bad situation."

"What do you mean,
we
?" Chloe scoffed. "How does this affect you?"

Tariq was about to reply when a staffer tapped him on the shoulder. He leaned down and listened to what the man had to say, the message whispered into his ear.

"I'm sorry, Chloe, I've got to go."

12

^"
M
iss, are you supposed to be in here?"

The voice came out of nowhere, interrupting Chloe's daydream and startling her. She responded by looking around wildly for a source, and eventually identified it as coming from a secretarial, thin looking man with spectacles standing to her right.

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you supposed to be here? Are you –." He paused, wondering how to couch his question. "Are you a guest of the Prince?"

"Oh God, no," Chloe replied, mortified at the suggestion that she was there in anything other than a professional capacity – regardless of the fact that she had in fact been writhing in Tariq's arms only the night before. "I'm with the hotel – well, with the Kingsland Group. The Prince and I have been working together on the hospitality arrangements of the last few days."

The man looked as relieved as she was to find out that Chloe wasn't a lost girlfriend. "I understand. Can I ask you to keep to this side of the room, please?" He pointed at the opposite side of the suite, and Chloe noticed that most of the harried looking aides and staffers were beginning to coalesce on the other side of the hotel room. "The Prince has a very important call to make, and it wouldn't be right for any of us to listen in – I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, no problem," Chloe replied, patting the man on the shoulder to reassure him.

Behind her, she heard the sound of the doors to the suite sliding open and turned to see Khalid and Omar striding into the room.

"What's going on?" Khalid barked at a petrified looking young man, who perhaps responded slightly indiscreetly, particularly given the presence of an outsider like Chloe in the room. Given the opportunity, though, she listened with interest.

"Sir, sir," the scared looking aide called as Khalid hurried past him. "Please don't disturb the Prince – he's on the phone with his father."

That stopped Khalid, who turned the full force of his displeasure on the unfortunate young man and growled, "Well, why don't you tell me what the hell is going on then?"

The young staffer quailed in the face of Khalid's towering anger and looked almost too scared to reply. Chloe wondered to herself exactly what kind of reputation the man had back home that he was able to engender such fear.

"Khalid, brother," Omar interjected with an apologetic smile. "When you let the poor man speak, maybe he'll be able to give us an answer…"

The target of all this anger shot Omar a thankful look. "Gentlemen, have you seen the news?"

"The news?" Khalid scoffed rudely. "I just woke up, you young pup." Chloe could well believe it, for in contrast to Omar, who was immaculately turned out and well-manicured, the Interior Ministry colonel was a scruffy mess – his uniform a riot of wrinkles and his hair no more trimmed than a scarecrow's.

Chloe almost giggled as she watched the conflicting struggle of emotions work its way through the young man's face – she could read him like a book, and frankly wondered how he'd managed to get a job as a diplomat, given how naive he seemed. The gist was clear, though. The man wanted to point out how unprofessionally Khalid was acting, but knew that if he did so the consequences would be dire.

Judging by the tiny smirk on Omar's lips as he stood slightly out of Khalid's eyeshot, Chloe guessed that he was thinking exactly the same thing.

"Ah, sorry, sir," the man mumbled, clearly wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there. "I didn't mean to cause any offence. Rashid Al Mansouri was on the news this morning urging the British government not to allow the sale of the Eurofighter to the Kingdom…"

The young man trailed off in the face of the growing rage on Khalid's face. "Who the fuck is this
Rashid
?" he growled.

Chloe listened in with interest, also noting out of the corner of her eye that the aide who had first asked her to move was now busily in conversation on the other side of the room, paying no attention to the fact that she hadn't done so. In fact, she was in perhaps the perfect position to observe what was going on in the study Tariq had removed himself into.

"He's an…" The man struggled to pick the right word, clearly fearing Khalid's wrath. "Protester in exile, sir. He has some grievances with what he sees as his unfair treatment in the Kingdom." Khalid glowered. "All nonsense, of course," the young man hastened to add.

"Who the fuck does he think he is, trying to stop the rightful and legal actions of the King?"

"I never knew you were such a royalist, Khalid," quipped Omar, a wry smile on his lips as he goaded his colleague. "Some of the things you've said about the King over the years aren't exactly savory…"

The staffer in front of the two men now looked as though he wished a hole in the ground would simply swallow him up and remove him from his worries.

"Run along." Omar grinned at the young man, patting his shoulder in thanks. He sagged with relief and disappeared in a flash before he could be called back.

“Outrageous," Chloe heard Khalid mutter. "We've got to do something about these insults, Omar."

"We don't know what's going on, Khalid. Why don't you wait until Tariq's off the phone with his father – it's up to him anyway."

Chloe could only just hear Khalid's response as he lowered his tone, since it appeared even he knew that he couldn't express such opinions with his usual force, as he growled back, "For now."

As the pair left both Chloe's eyesight and earshot, she took stock of her situation. Thinking rationally about it, she realized that while she was in an unfortunate situation, she was going to have to stick it out if she wanted a career in this business.

The unfortunate fact of the matter was that the powerful and wealthy didn't end up that way without making difficult choices that most of the rest of the population never had to encounter – and whether that was right or wrong, she knew that was what was going on.

And yet, Tariq didn't seem, on the face of it, as though he was embracing that difficulty. He seemed like a good man put in a difficult position, and the thought made Chloe reflect upon her own situation. Was his position really that different from her own? After all, Tariq was only doing what he had to – sticking it out, exactly the same as her.