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have a debt to pay, and we want to remit the amount in full.”
    “Are you saying you will tell me who he is and where I can find him?”
    “Not quite.” The snake was slipping back under his rock. “We will ask for Mr. Gibson’s collaboration. He’ll probably know where you are by the time I’ll call him.”
    “And what type of collaboration will you seek from the Canadians?” This, too, was unforeseen. Khalid wanted to accomplish what he had in mind by himself. The prospect of having anyone else involved irked him.
    “At present, and until I have Mr. Gibson’s full assurance that his agency will follow our lead, I will not reveal what has been planned. I suggest, you stay at your hotel and wait for my instruction or that of Mr. Gibson.”
    “How long will I have to wait?” Khalid hazarded, already planning to be gone by the time the word came.
    “Not long, not long at all, Captain. Yet, I wouldn’t make any plans to travel anywhere for the next two days, if I were you.”
    Khalid nodded in reluctant assent. Whatever he would do from that moment on, would be the subject of scrupulous scrutiny. Although he didn’t relish the idea of being watched, being chased by two agencies half-way across the world didn’t agree with him either.

Chapter 11
     
    The weather was cool. The Ides of March had come and gone, yet an ominous cloud of unease hung over Mark’s head. He had taken a cab from the airport to a hotel near Capitol Hill and not too far from where Khalid was staying. CSIS had tracked the prince down to Washington D.C. almost at the same time as the call from Muhammad Sadir had come through. Mark’s instructions were simple, nonetheless very risky, as far as he could see. He was to take the lead and let Khalid follow him to their destination—Sydney, Australia. Once Mark would have made contact with Samuel he would step back and let the prince handle the situation. Mark knew His Highness well enough to foresee what could happen. However, his mission was to prevent the killing of either or both parties in this duel. Eventually, Samuel would be sent back to Israel for Mossad to do as they pleased with their ‘defective’ agent, and Khalid would be free to return to Paris via Vancouver if he so chose.
    Apparently, and to anyone outside their Washington enclave, the CIA counted on Agent Gilford to demonstrate to Mossad that whatever their intentions were toward either Talya or Khalid, they were not to make any further attempts on their lives without facing serious and far-reaching reprisals. “An eye for an eye” no longer applied here. Whether they would succeed in persuading such begrudging organization as Mossad to leave well alone, was another matter altogether.
    The CIA’s ultimate purpose was quite different, however. They wanted Khalid or Agent Gilford to eliminate Samuel. They could not care less whether the prince died in the process or if there were retaliations to follow on the part of Mossad—that would be the Canadians’ problem.
     
    As Khalid came out of the restaurant after breakfast, he bumped into a young man who excused himself and walked quickly out of sight. It was only when he was strolling through the park across from the hotel that he felt something in the side pocket of his jacket. He thought nothing of it for a moment but then stopped and took the item out of its hiding place. A glimpse at the object told him what it was. He resumed his walk nonchalantly while slipping the small booklet in his breast pocket. He returned to the hotel after completing his morning stroll at an easy pace. He knew eyes were on him.
    Once in his room, he sat on the bed and took the document out once again. He looked at it, opened it and allowed a smile to light up his face. The American passport bore the name of Dickson, William; Professor. The photograph was one of a man he almost didn’t recognize at first. The fellow had grey hair and light brown eyes. When he flipped the pages, a small note and