Rules of Betrayal

76

The Gulfstream G-V landed at Westchester County Airport, thirty miles northeast of Manhattan, at six-thirty in the morning. There were no customs formalities to attend to. The pilot had killed his primary transponder shortly after takeoff. Nearing the tower, he’d turned an alternate on and identified himself as a private jet incoming from Boston, Massachusetts. The air traffic controller was curious about the sudden appearance on his radar, but not enough to cause a problem. He had a student pilot veering into commercial airspace to deal with. Permission to land was given without further questions.

Prince Rashid’s Maybach limousine waited on the tarmac. Sultan Haq slid into the backseat, clutching his black leather overnight case to his chest. Rashid sat next to him.

“The train is ready?” the prince asked his chauffeur.

“Yessir. At North White Plains Station.”

The Maybach drove five miles to the North White Plains Station, a sprawling rail yard. Prince Rashid’s train sat on a remote siding, lost among strings of cars waiting for repair and service. The train numbered four cars: a locomotive followed by storage car, galley, and the passenger car. The cars appeared like any others, silver with blue-and-red striping running below the roof. On closer examination, the words “HRH Prince Rashid al-Zayed” could be seen in ornate gold script written in the blue striping.

A steward ushered the men inside. The interior did not look like any other passenger car. In place of torn leatherette seats and sticky linoleum floors were plush couches, sleek chairs, coffee tables, and wool carpeting. Haq sat in an overstuffed recliner, the leather bag in his lap. Two beefy, well-dressed men stood at the opposite end of the car: Rashid’s praetorian guard.

The train began to move, and the steward brought a platter of steaming eggs, croissants, jams, and fruit. Rashid poured two flutes of orange juice.

“To us,” he said, toasting. “We shall be more famous than Muhammad.”

Sultan Haq raised the glass.

No drink had ever tasted sweeter.