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at and had my arm broken.”

     “You’ve been in more danger in the last few weeks than most people in their entire lives. You can stay away from these dangerous people and get back to your main task which is to graduate from the ENA. I’ve been in touch with the president, a friend from my riding club. He agreed to give you extra time to finish your year’s assignments. As soon as you’re well, you can go back to school and the slate will be wiped clean. You’ll be on the same schedule to graduate as the rest of your classmates, at least those that have made the grade.”

     “Thanks very much, Grand-pĂšre, but I don’t think that’s what I want to do anymore. I’ve thought a lot about this. What is the connecting thread between these events that have turned my life upside down? Both were connected with the integristes, the jihadists. They are struggling and fighting amongst each other and now we, the West, the Christian world, have become targets.”

     The general smiled and said, “Now you’re beginning to sound like my analysts. Except that you’re more direct. The only way they know how to write is to start with ‘on the one hand,’ and then qualify their conclusions with ‘but on the other,’ so they’re never wrong. An American president, Truman I think, said ‘Give me one-armed economists.’ Anytime you want to leave school, I have a job for you as a counter terrorism analyst.”

     She laughed at the idea.

     “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to sit in a cubicle, at a computer, all day long. Rather than analyze, I’d rather get the information that someone else can analyze. If your analysts get the wrong information, the end product is not going to be useful, right? But frankly speaking, I’m not sure I’m that kind of person, a collector I mean, who can convince others to steal secrets for me.”

     “Well, if you prefer after you graduate you can join the diplomatic service and play an important role in this issue, which is the central global issue of your generation—how the radical Muslims are going to fit into the current century, or how they’re going to force the rest of us to live in their century. And their clock is no further than the thirteenth century, at most.”

     “Grand-pĂšre, I don’t think the diplomats have done much. They all gather at the UN, sign meaningless resolutions, and then they go to their next cocktail parties in their chauffeur-driven cars. No, I think intelligence is the place to be in this fight. It’s more significant, has more impact. So, can you help me?”

     General Joulet spent the rest of the evening trying to dissuade her, but in the end, she said, “I’ll be thirty years old soon. I’ve seen my friend killed, and been attacked by the same ideology. I’m not going to sit back and pretend none of this happened and is not happening to others every day. You said yourself it’s the most important issue that my generation will have to deal with. I want to make a difference and this is where I want to do it.”

21. Al Khalil’s Office

A day after the Salafist attack on the foreign-aid personnel, Hussein brought Karim to al Khalil and, in answer to questions, Karim recounted the operation. Al Khalil sat behind his desk, and Hussein sat in front of it. Karim stood in front of both. He played the role that Steve, whom he knew as Christopher, had outlined for him, although he believed the advice was obvious.

     Waving his arms as he talked, Karim nearly shouted, “Dahmane told me this would be easy—convincing foreign crusaders to go home. If you had planned this operation well, you would have known that the party was going to be guarded. Everybody was shooting at us. Dahmane shouldn’t have died. I was almost killed. You should have told us that there would be guards. Everybody was shooting. They even had hand-grenades.”

     “It was Allah’s will,” Hussein replied. “Dahmane died a shahid’s death. May we all be as fortunate,” and Karim uttered “Allahu Akbar” in automatic response.

     Karim exaggerated his account according to Steve’s instructions. Also, he wanted to underline that his survival was due to his own skills and that the operation was not the walk in the park that everyone had expected.

     Al Khalil picked up a copy of L’Essor.

     “This morning’s paper reports that, in Canada, France, Switzerland, the United States, and other countries where the NGO’s central offices are located, the media have the foreign ministries under siege. I think NGO’s will be more careful to keep their people out of our lands in the future.”

     Hussein drank from a plastic water bottle.

     “Timbuktu is now full of diplomats, and newspaper people. The hotels are full.”

     Al Khalil leaned back in his chair.

     “Yes, I know. I already received phone calls and gave a couple of interviews. I’m putting our IMRA work up front, but I’m also explaining how unnatural it is to have missionaries among our believers. We can take care of our own.”

     Karim walked to the wall on his right, picked up the only other chair in the room, brought it near Hussein and sat.

     “What about the police. What do they know?”

     “Don’t worry. They have no leads. The eyewitnesses were too shocked and busy trying to survive to be able to give the police any useful information or accurate descriptions. Dahmane carried no personal documentation and has not been identified There will be an investigation to satisfy the foreigners but all will go back to normal soon.”

     “The objective was to chase the missionaries out,” al Khalil said.

     This was a sign, Karim thought, that al Khalil was

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