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.She was startled to see that the plane was indeed on its final approach.The green-and-brown tinged ground of Italy had been replaced by an endless wash of beige.Rising wearily from her seat, the secretary of state gathered up her handbag wherein resided her omnipresent supply of makeup.Helena Eckert hurried to the rest room.She had only a few minutes to compose herself before her plane would touch down in the capital of Akkadad in the Khalamite Kingdom of Ebla.THE CAR RIDE from the airport to the Great Sultan's Palace was odd.Yes, that was how the secretary of state would have characterized it.Distinctly odd.In fact, if not for the good relations Ebla enjoyed with the U.S., Helena would almost judge the atmosphere as tense.She knew her driver-an Eblan diplomat she had met twice before-spoke English, but the man offered very little in the way of conversation.He and another Eblan companion sat silent as stones in the front seat.They did not even communicate with one another.The secretary chalked their silence up to a bad day.After all, everyone was entitled to have one once in a while.Helena herself was working on her second full year of them.But the mute escorts were not the only odd thing about this trip.The car that had been sent for her was strange, as well.It was not a limousine, as was the norm.A group of nondescript government vehicles had been waiting on the tarmac for the sec retary of state and her entourage.As soon as she'd deplaned, she had been ushered wordlessly into the first car.Odd.Definitely very odd.There was one other American in the car with Helena-the young man who had awakened her on the plane.The two of them sat together in the back seat.The secretary turned to the young diplomat, pitching her voice low."Hugh, did something happen while I was asleep that I should know about?"The aide shrugged, shaking his head."Nothing Washington told us about," he Page 28ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmladmitted.There was a worried look lurking in the back of the young man's eyes.He tried to mask it as he looked back over his shoulder.The other cars were still following closely behind the secretary's.He seemed relieved that they were.As she straightened up, the secretary of state gave the young man a comforting pat on the back of his hand."All in a day's work, Hugh," she said with a certain smile.She adjusted her lumpy frame in the car seat.But behind the studied diplomatic expression, seeds of doubt were beginning to germinate in the mind of America's chief diplomat.THE RUMORS OF SULTAN OMAY'S resurgent illness had been filtering out of Ebla for some time now.For a moment after leaving her car in the burning sun of Rebellion Square and walking into the main entrance of the Great Sultan's Palace, the secretary of state felt like some sort of morbid diplomatic vulture, swooping down to check for signs of life in heads of state.She knew that this was a silly thought.These sorts of junkets were necessary.Especially in this region, and especially given the utter lack of anything even remotely resembling a coherent foreign policy in the current administration.It was important to the United States that the sultan reaffirm his commitment to the peace process.Even after all these years as a proved conciliator.The concerns Helena Eckert had felt in the car vanished the moment she saw the careworn face of Ebla's leader.The famous face was kind, not cruel.The laugh lines beside his eyes had crinkled in joyful appreciation at every meeting they'd had since Helena assumed her post.In the touchy-feely brand of diplomacy she trafficked in, the secretary of state would even go so far as to term the man a friend.But her friend was gravely ill.There was no doubt about it.The thought that it might be a resurgence of the cancer that the Eblan leader had so valiantly battled years before filled Helena's heart with pity.And a dying ruler would certainly explain the unusually taciturn manner of her driver.The secretary wore an appropriate bland-bordering-on-concerned expression as she mounted the purple-carpeted staircase to the second-floor landing of the palace.Sultan Omay met the American delegation at the head of the stairs.The Eblan leader's smiling face did not smile today.Helena did for him."Sultan Omay," the secretary of state said, stopping beneath the high marble arches at the top of the long staircase."It is my pleasure to renew our friendship."The secretary of state bowed slightly and offered a hand to Omay.So frail he looked as if a desert breeze might topple him down the staircase, the sultan of Ebla dropped his eyes to the extended hand.He left it empty.Omay raised his eyes to the secretary of state's.The sickly white tip of the sultan's tongue appeared between his parched lips.A phlegmy wet sound issued from the mouth of the sultan of Ebla.To the shock and horror of all the assembled American diplomats, it was followed by the expulsion of a single ball of viscous saliva.Sultan Omay's spit slapped into the jowly face and neck of America's first female secretary of state."What on earth!"Helena instantly lost her diplomatic poise.She recoiled from the foreign ruler, grabbing instinctively at the handkerchief she always kept tucked inside the sleeve of her light designer blouse.The response of the secretary of state to Sultan Omay's unexpected attack brought an even more unexpected reaction.As she reached for her silk hankie, every door in the palace seemed to burst open at once.Armed Eblan soldiers poured out into the hallway.They were shouting and waving Russian-made weapons.More swarmed menacingly up from the bottom of the staircase.The tension level they'd experienced in the car soared through the roof as the secretary's entourage wheeled.Heads whipped back and forth in terror.Guns jammed ribs.Hands rose into the air.It seemed as if the entire Ebla Arab Army had been dispatched to subdue the Page 29ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlsmall group of unarmed diplomats."What is the meaning of this?" Helena stammered.Her stunned brain was working overtime.She still had her staff at the airport.If they could just get back to the plane somehow.Before she could even formulate a plan, the main doors on the first floor flew open.All eyes turned.The United States Air Force, Army, support staff and Secret Service personnel who had been left on the secretary's plane were shoved roughly into the palace by even more Eblan soldiers.The faces of the new American arrivals were bruised and bleeding.As one of the men crawled across the carpet, an Ebla Arab Army soldier kicked him viciously in the stomach.The man dropped painfully to the floor, hands clasped to his belly.The entire tableau was frozen for a long moment [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]