Mevlevi gave an exasperated sigh, then dabbed at his mouth. "All right, then, I'll reconsider the loan. But frankly, I don't see where I'm going to get the cash. I'll make some calls. I can have an answer for you tomorrow at two P.M."

"I have an important meeting with one of our oldest shareholders. I won't be back in the office before three." Kaiser knew not to expect a reprieve, but couldn't help himself from jumping at the offer. Hope was difficult to kill.

Mevlevi smiled graciously. "I promise to have an answer for you by that time."

Ali Mevlevi packed a half-sotted Wolfgang Kaiser into his automobile, then returned to the restaurant's lounge and ordered a Williams aperitif. For a few seconds he actually pitied the poor fool. One percent, Kaiser had practically slobbered, hoping to sell young Neumann like he was chattel slavery. Neumann was worth the price of a single bullet, no more, and that's how much he'd spend on him.

Give me my one percent.

Mevlevi was tempted to give it to the man, if only to appease his own conscience. After all, even he needed to be reminded now and again he possessed one. Chuckling at the thought, he took a long sip of the strong liqueur. Kaiser and his one percent. Young Neumann the investigator. The world was much larger than that, wasn't it?

In Ali Mevlevi's view, the world, and his place in it, was infinitely larger.

He finished his drink, paid, and walked into the cold night. He raised his hand and immediately a car started its motor. A silver Mercedes drove forward. He got in the car and shook hands with Moammar-al-Khan, his Libyan majordomo. "You know where you're going?"

"It is not far. Another few kilometers along the lake and then into the hills. We will make it in fifteen minutes." Khan brought the gold medallion he wore around his neck to his lips and kissed it. "The prophet willing."

"I have every confidence," said Mevlevi, smiling. He knew he could rely on Khan. It had been Khan who had discovered that the heroin being sold in Letten by the Makdisis had not been his own.

Fourteen minutes later, the Mercedes approached a lone cabin at the end of a rutted track deep inside a dark and snowy forest. Three cars were parked in front of the cabin. Lights burned from the front window.

"One of them has yet to arrive," said Khan. "I don't see his car."

Mevlevi guessed who the tardy man was but did not begrudge him his theatricality. He was simply practicing his new role a few days in advance. After all, a chief executive should always be the last to arrive.

Mevlevi stepped from the automobile and crossed through the snow to the cabin. He knocked once, then entered. Hassan Faris was standing by the door. Mevlevi kissed him on each cheek while pumping his hand.

"Faris, tell me the good news," he said.

"Chase Manhattan and Lehman Brothers have signed a letter of intent for the full amount," said the svelte Arab. "They've already syndicated the loan."

A taller man approached from the crackling fire. "It's true," said George von Graffenried, vice-chairman of the Adler Bank. "Our friends in New York have come up with the cash. We have bridge financing in place for three billion dollars. More than enough to buy every last share of USB stock we don't already own outright. You kept us waiting until the last minute, Ali. We almost came up a few pennies short."

"George, I always keep my word. Or Khan keeps it for me."

Von Graffenried wiped the ridiculous grin off his face.

Mevlevi waved to a thin man standing by the fire. "Mr. Zwicki, it is nice to finally meet you. I appreciate your involvement in our little project. Especially your help these last few days." On his command, Zwicki, chief of USB's equity department, had slowed his bank's purchases of its own shares to a trickle, thus effectively declawing Maeder's vaunted "liberation plan."

Sepp Zwicki stepped forward and bowed his head. "A pleasure."

"We are awaiting your colleague, Dr.-"

The door to the cabin opened suddenly and Rudolf Ott bustled inside. "Mr. Mevlevi, good evening. Sepp, Hassan, George, hello." He drew Von Graffenried close and whispered, "You received my last memo. Did you contact the Widows and Orphans Fund yet?"

"We're hoping to know tomorrow, Herr Dr. Ott. I'm sure you won't be disappointed."

"Good evening, Rudolf." Mevlevi detested the smarmy man, but he was the most important member of their team. "Is everything in place for tomorrow?"

Ott removed his glasses and wiped away the condensation with a clean handkerchief. "Naturally. The loan documents have been prepared. You'll have your money by noon. Eight hundred million francs is a decent sum. I don't know if we've ever lent so much to an individual."

Mevlevi doubted it. He had collateral, of course. Approximately three million shares of USB held at the Adler Bank, not to mention another couple hundred thousand at USB itself. In the future, though, calls for collateral would disappear. That was why he was taking the reins of the bank, wasn't it? The purpose of this entire exercise. Time to become legitimate.

Tomorrow morning Klaus Konig would announce his cash bid for USB: 2.8 billion dollars for the sixty-six percent of USB he didn't yet control. Tuesday, at USB's general assembly, Ott would announce his support for the Adler Bank's bid. He would call for the immediate resignation of Wolfgang Kaiser, and the executive board would support him. Each board member held a hefty packet of USB shares. No one could turn down the huge premium offered by the Adler Bank. For his loyalty (or his betrayal, depending from which side one looked at it), Ott would be installed at the helm of the newly consolidated bank: USB-Adler. Day-to-day operations would be handled by Von Graffenried. Zwicki and Faris would share the equities department. Klaus Konig would retain the nominal position of president, though his real tasks would be confined to fashioning the combined banks' investment strategy. The man was much too impulsive to head a universal Swiss bank. If he didn't like it, he could have a heart-to-heart with Khan.

Over time, new employees would be brought in to fill key posts: global treasury operations, capital markets, compliance. Men of Faris's ilk. Men of Mevlevi's choosing. New appointments would be made to the executive board. The combined assets of the United Swiss Bank and the Adler Bank would be his. Over seventy billion dollars at his disposal.

The thought brought a broad smile to Ali Mevlevi's face, and everyone around him smiled too. Ott, Zwicki, Faris, Von Graffenried. Even Khan.

Mevlevi would not abuse his power. At least not for a while. But there were so many good uses to which he could put the bank. Corporate loans to worthy companies in Lebanon, shoring up the Jordani dinar, slipping a few hundred million to his friend Hussein in Iraq. Khamsin was only the first. But in his heart it was the most important.

Mevlevi excused himself and stepped outside to place a call to his operational headquarters at his compound near Beirut. He waited while he was patched through to General Marchenko.

"Da? Mr. Mevlevi?"

"General Marchenko, I'm calling to inform you that everything is proceeding according to plan on this end. You will have your money no later than noon tomorrow. The baby must be ready to travel at that time. Lieutenant Ivlov's attack is to begin simultaneously."

"Understood. Once I have received confirmation of the transfer, it will be only a matter of seconds before the baby can be airborne. I look forward to hearing from you."

"Twelve o'clock, Marchenko. Not a minute later."

Mevlevi folded the cellular phone and put it in his pocket. He breathed in the chill night air, enjoying its bite. He felt more alive than ever before.