Free WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1) by Lavina Giamusso

Maybe a large brunch…? What do you say?”
    Talya looked up at him and smiled. He always knew what she felt and what she wanted. “Good idea! Let’s go.” She put her chair in motion again and they turned into the terrace fronting a little house. She skirted the patio and rolled down to the entrance at the side of the establishment. Aziz opened the door for her, walked in and dropped his shoulder bag near a table. Talya manoeuvred the chair in front of it and took off her jacket.
    The waitress was already at her side, helping her out of it. “Would you like some coffee?” She smiled at the two people in turn.
    Talya looked up at her, thanked her and handed her jacket to Aziz. “Yes,” she added, “and some eggs Benedict for me...” She looked at Aziz. “Oh and some fruit, and maybe…”
    He took her hand. “Let’s see how you’re doing with that for now…, okay?” Talya nodded.
    “And for you, sir?” the young woman asked, pen poised on her order pad.
    He let go of Talya’s hand, grabbed the menu quickly and ran his eyes down it. “I’ll have bacon and eggs, pancakes and strawberries.”
    “Toasts with that?”
    “No, thanks.”
    As the waitress retreated, Aziz noticed that Talya’s hands were trembling. She had them folded in her lap and was looking down at them. “Do you want to go home?”
    She shook her head. “No, no. I’m just cold…, maybe...”
    “Okay, let’s wait until you get some food in you.”

Chapter 19
     
    As soon as Khalid reached his room; he unpacked his laptop, plugged it in and waited until he could get on the Internet. For the past several weeks, he had learned and had grown to enjoy the technology. He could search for anything and get an instant response, and he could get in touch with anyone readily enough. The programs’ feature even allowed him to write his emails in Arabic. Once on-line, he took no time to contact his Uncle Abdullah in Riyadh. He had no idea of the time difference, and he was not even sure his uncle would respond after Khalid’s deliberate silence for the past months, but he had to try.
    Following the usual introductory sentences, he wrote:
     
    I am in Australia until tomorrow night. The authorities are seeking to arrest Samuel Meshullam (a.k.a. Isaac Whittlestein) in the next few days. There is an order of extradition for him to be returned to Canada as soon as he is captured.
    From what I can gather at this point, Muhammad Sadir’s involvement in this affair has been put into question. Since he is your friend and he has interceded in the locating of Ben Slimane, the question that has to be asked is whether he was himself a Mossad agent. How far did your friendship go? Be prepared to be questioned some time soon.
    Your devoted nephew, Khalid Saif Al-Fadir.
     
    He left the computer open, just in case his uncle would respond immediately, and went to open his suitcase. He wanted to get out of the suit and tie and into more appropriate clothes. He had not gone outside yet, but somehow felt oppressed. Distractedly, he took the envelope that Constable Strickland had given him at the issue of their interview. He opened it and looked at the tickets. To his surprise, he was booked on a flight to Singapore and then on a connecting flight to Paris. His heart sank. He sat down. He had expected to fly back to San Francisco, from where he had planned to make a detour via Vancouver. Again, he felt trapped. He could not figure out how or when he was going to see Talya. He was not aware that she was making great progress now toward a full recovery. He thought of Aziz’s call. He had let him and Talya down.
    He shook his head, dismayed. He rummaged through his suitcase and found the clothes he was looking for. He got up from the bed, and as he was about to go into the bathroom to have a shower, he heard the jingle alerting him that ‘ he got mail ’ from the computer.
    He dropped his clothes on the bed, sat down in front of the screen, open his uncle’s