“That was you?” Renata asked. The incident had made headlines around the world.
“I had a little help,” Joe admitted.
She smiled. “But you were the one?”
He nodded.
“I’m very impressed, Joe,” she said. “That would entitle us to a little help.”
Kurt thought so too. He stepped toward the bow and said to the water taxi’s pilot, “Thanks for your time. We’re ready to go back to the dock.”
The boat turned around. Now all they had to do was find Brigadier General Edo before Hassan left the building.
43
Joe sat on a plush chair in a swanky downtown office. The modern decor, subdued lighting and soft music gave off the aura of success. It was a far cry from the stormy night several years before when he’d first met Major Edo in a smoky interrogation room.
And that was unfortunate.
“So, I take it you’re not in the military anymore,” Joe said.
Edo’s hair was longer, his Clark Gable looks even more evident now that he’d traded in his fatigues for a sharply tailored suit.
“Advertising,” Edo said. “That’s the name of my game now. It’s much more lucrative. And it allows me to be”—he waved his hands around in an artsy manner—“creative.”
“Creative?” Joe asked.
“You’d be surprised how that’s frowned upon in the military.”
Joe sighed. “I’m happy for you,” he said, trying to sound sincere. “I’m just surprised. What happened? You were prom
oted to general, last I heard.”
Edo leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Changes,” he said. “Big changes, you know. First, the protests. Then all the fighting. It became a revolution. One government fell. A new government took over. And then, of course, the protests began again and that government fell. Many in the military were purged. I was forced out with no pension.”
“And you chose advertising for your new career?”
“My brother-in-law has made a fortune in the business,” Edo said. “It seems everybody wants to sell someone something.”
Joe wondered if there was any way Edo could still help them. “I don’t suppose you could get us a meeting with the head honchos at Osiris Construction?”
Edo leaned forward and focused more sharply. “Osiris?” he asked with obvious concern. “What are you involved in, my friend?”
“It’s complicated,” Joe said.
Edo opened a drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one between his lips, lit it and then began to wave it around as he spoke, never putting it back in his mouth. At least some things hadn’t changed. “I would leave Osiris alone, if I were you,” he warned.
“Why?” Joe asked. “Who are they?”
“Who aren’t they,” Edo replied. “They’re everyone who used to matter.”
“Maybe you could be more specific?” Joe asked.
“The old guard,” Edo said. “The military men who were swept out of power a few years ago. The military had been in control of Egypt since the Free Officers took over in 1952. They’ve been the hand on the wheel. Nasser was military. Sadat was military. Mubarak also military. They’ve been running things all this time. But it’s more than that. I’m sure you’ve heard the term military-industrial complex. In Egypt, we took that to a whole new level. The military men owned most of the businesses, they decided who got the jobs. They hired friends to reward them, enemies to placate them. But since the Revolution, things have been different. There’s too much scrutiny for things to go back to the old way. Osiris came out of that. It’s run by a man named Tariq Shakir. He was a full colonel in the secret police. He had great ambitions to lead the country someday. But he knows his past will prevent that from happening. So with the help of others in the old guard, he’s found a different way. Osiris is the most powerful corporation in Egypt. They get every contract. And not just from our government, but from others. Everyone is wary of them. Even the sitting politicians.”
“So this Shakir is a kingmaker and not a king,” Joe said.
Edo nodded. “He will never step to the forefront, but he wields great power both here and abroad. You’ve seen what’s going on in Libya, Tunisia and Algeria?”