Free Fear City by F. Paul Wilson

said.
    Nasser said, “Alfonse D’Amato, the senator? Why?”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t they? He is perhaps the most vocal supporter Israel has in Congress. A bit of a grandstander about it too. When Iraq began firing Scuds at Israel during the war, D’Amato made a big point of flying over there to demonstrate his solidarity.”
    Trejador looked at Nasser. “Can you come up with someone better?”
    â€œNo. D’Amato is loathed by jihadists.”
    â€œExcellent.” Trejador clapped his hands. “Rabin, D’Amato, and Boutros-Ghali all meeting at the UN.” Another look at Nasser. “Will our pet jihadists be able to refuse?”
    Nasser had to smile. “I do not see how.”
    â€œThen we need to set a date for this momentous meeting. How long for them to make the bomb, do you think?”
    Drexler frowned. “They told al-Thani they’re planning a van bomb. Even something that size … If they can get the materials quickly, I’d say no more than a week.”
    â€œLet’s give them a few days more. And let’s make it a Friday, since that’s a day of prayer for all of the participants. That brings us to…” He briefly shut his eyes. “The twenty-sixth. Good. The secret meeting will take place at eleven A.M. on the tenth floor of the UN Secretariat Building on Friday, February twenty-sixth.”
    â€œWait-wait-wait,” Nasser said. “I know the Order has reach, but how can we possibly…?” Trejador’s smile and Drexler’s disdainful look stopped him. “Oh, I see.”
    He now understood that when Trejador said “secret” meeting, he meant so secret that even Rabin, D’Amato, and Boutros-Ghali wouldn’t know about it.
    He felt like an idiot.
    Drexler said, “Our people in the UN can find some excuse to lure D’Amato over. Boutros-Ghali is already there, of course. The Israelis never advertise their prime minister’s whereabouts unless it’s a state occasion, so for all anyone will know, Rabin can be anywhere we wish him to be that day.”
    â€œRabin, D’Amato, and Boutros-Ghali,” Trejador said. “The Unholy Trinity for our jihadists. If they—”
    He turned at the sound of a door opening down the hall and then a young brunette appeared. Nasser knew her—the alluring Danaë.
    â€œI’m leaving now,” she said in a soft voice. “I have another appointment.”
    â€œOf course,” Trejador said. “I’ll be in touch.”
    She smiled. “Of course you will.”
    She turned her blue gaze on Nasser and held the smile, then winked and turned away.
    Nasser’s knees felt semi-solid. Danaë … one of Trejador’s prostitutes. He seemed to hire the same ones over and over. Nasser had been infatuated with Danaë since he’d first seen her a number of years ago. He’d caught glimpses of some of Trejador’s other call girls, but none had ever tempted him like Danaë.
    He would love to hire her—just for one night—but feared he might be committing some sort of breach by sharing a woman with his superior. As he watched her glide toward the door, he noticed Drexler’s livid expression. Danaë removed her coat from the front closet and made her exit.
    As soon as the door closed behind her, Drexler turned on Trejador and exploded.
    â€œYou had one of your whores here while we were discussing the greatest act of terrorism this city, this country—the world has ever seen?”
    Trejador appeared unfazed by the outburst. “Well, I was expecting to have the evening to myself. You called the meeting rather abruptly, if you recall.”
    â€œBut this is unconscionable! You have no idea what she might have heard!”
    â€œThe door was closed. And besides, Danaë is a pro. She doesn’t peek, she doesn’t pry, she doesn’t care .”
    â€œShe may have heard