"It is not my position to question you, Prince Muhammad."

Rashid continued to look out the window and smiled. He prized loyalty and obedience above all. "For today let us make an exception."

Tayyib stroked his mustache and said, "I am not sure I trust the German, but he has proven himself very useful."

"Why is it that you don't trust him?"

"I don't know."

"Is it because he is a foreigner?"

"Probably."

Rashid nodded. "I have never trusted him completely for that very reason myself, but he has performed brilliantly."

"That is true. Maybe we should look at the problem in a different way."

Rashid turned around. "Continue."

"Do we have anyone else who can do for us what he does?"

The prince shook his head. He had already thought of this. "No."

"The decision to have him removed was a sound precaution at the time based on a realistic expectation that we would need to cover our tracks. It appears that the German may have done such a good job we no longer have to worry."

Rashid looked beyond Tayyib, through the French doors at the other end of the room, which opened onto the front yard of the estate. A motorcade of black vehicles was coming up the drive. It would be Director Ross. He was very much looking forward to this breakfast. The prince said, "Let the German live for now."

Tayyib accepted the order with a bow of his head.

"I think Director Ross is here. It might be a good idea if you make yourself scarce."

Tayyib left the room and a few minutes later Director Ross was escorted into the library. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans, cowboy boots, flannel shirt, and jean jacket. The prince thought he was trying a bit too hard to flaunt his American cowboy bravado. His attire in itself was a minor nuisance, compared to the faux pas he'd committed by dragging four of his people into the room with him. Rashid looked at Ross and then gave the other Americans a scornful glance. It was not Ross, or any of the other Americans with their ingrained egalitarian sense, who picked up on Rashid's irritation, but his personal secretary. The man gently touched each of the four on the elbow and gestured toward the door.

It seemed to finally dawn on Ross that he was in the presence of royalty and the prince did not enjoy the company of people beneath him. Rather than draw attention to the screw-up he decided to lay it on. "Prince Muhammad, I can't thank you enough for taking the time to see me. I'm really looking forward to our morning together."

"So am I," Rashid said in a kind voice. "And I thank you for your invitation. I had not thought of coming with the delegation."

"Well, that's too bad. You are always welcome in America."

Rashid supposed this would have been a good time to tell him he was always welcome in Saudi Arabia, but the truth was that he wasn't. "You are very kind."

"I would just like to say, Prince Rashid, that I do not underestimate how important you are to Saudi Arabia." Ross paused and then offered, "The king may be the heart of Saudi Arabia, but you are its soul." Ross was very pleased with himself. He had worked on this line over and over to give it the perfect dramatic flair.

Rashid was momentarily stunned. For the first time in his life he felt genuinely flattered, not patronized, by an American. Although he completely agreed with Ross, Rashid had never shared this comparison between himself and his half brother with anyone. When he was alone in his thoughts, though, a day did not pass where he didn't think of himself as the soul and bedrock of the Saudi people. Maybe the reports on this new director of National Intelligence were wrong.

Servants entered the room with fresh coffee and pastries, taking away the others even though they had not been touched. Rashid walked over to where Ross was standing and gestured for him to sit. The servants silently poured two cups of coffee without having to be asked and then took the prince's barely used cup and left efficiently and most important, silently.

Rashid grabbed the folds of his robe, lifted it, and sat on the couch directly across from the American. Ross added some cream and sugar to his coffee and then took a sip.

"Oh…you Arabs make the best coffee in the world."

Rashid smiled and thought to himself, That is true, but why do you ruin it by adding cream and sugar? Instead he simply said, "Thank you."

"May I be frank with you, Prince Muhammad?"

"By all means." Rashid leaned back.

"Nine-eleven was a very unfortunate event for both of our countries. In its aftermath there was a rush to judgment. A lot of decisions were made." Ross hesitated and then added, "Some of those decisions were, to put it bluntly, wrong and unfair."

Rashid was not a talkative person under normal circumstances, but when dealing with foreign dignitaries he was practically a mute.

"The decision by my government to force your removal as minister of the Interior was wrong, and I would like to apologize for it."

Rashid was once again caught off guard. His relationship with the American government had been so contentious since the glorious attacks of 9/11 he did not think for a second that he would be receiving an apology. He slowly took a drink of his black coffee and said, "Your words are very kind, Director Ross."

"They are long overdue in my opinion, and I have told the president so."

Rashid's demeanor remained placid, but inside he was scrambling to figure out what this American was up to. Even Rashid, as self-righteous as he was, knew that the last thing he deserved from the Americans was an apology.

"For our two countries to get along we must understand and respect our differences…especially when it comes to religion."

Rashid nodded, and continued to listen as Ross expanded on his thoughts. The man was beguiling. A charismatic speaker who had a way with words. He reminded himself that Ross had been a senator, and politicians were never to be trusted. After a few moments, Rashid told Ross what he wanted to hear. That America was Saudi Arabia's greatest ally and that the two countries must continue to work together to fight the scourge of terrorism. Ross offered a few ideas, most of them trivial, but there was one point he made that again shocked Rashid. Ross told him that it was his sincere opinion that America should set up a one-year timetable for the withdrawal of all U.S. military personnel from the Kingdom.

The prince was awash in a sea of elation as the servants announced that breakfast was ready. As the two men walked from the library to the dining room Rashid reached out and held the American's hand, saying, "You are a good ally. You have a better understanding of what it will take to defuse these terrorists than anyone else I have spoken with in your government."

Ross took the compliment and then proceeded to expand on what he'd already told the prince. By the time they sat down at the table, Rashid was so thoroughly pleased with how things were going he decided he might have to stay an extra day in America and get to know the director of National Intelligence better. Ross continued to do most of the talking as the exquisite breakfast was served. He commented effusively on the food, the service, the prince's robes. They were almost done with their meal when Rashid looked across the table and in a very respectful tone said, "I am sorry to hear that the famed Mr. Rapp was killed in an explosion."

Rashid had planned on bringing this up for two reasons. The first was that he wanted to see if he could discover more details, and the second was to deflect any suspicion from himself by making it seem that he cared about Rapp's demise. After Rashid had delivered his condolences, he noticed that Ross's demeanor had changed. In fact, he face looked as if he had bitten into a ripe grapefruit. Sensing something was amiss, Rashid asked, "What is wrong?"