RECENT DOCUMENTS the Sheik discovers a jpeg, traces its origin, and opens what he recognizes as a view from the northwest tower—Druk
Yul Temple visible off in the distance. Unconvinced Nana has followed his
instructions, dubious as to where her loyalties lie, skeptical of the Prince and
his tale about what may (or may not) have happened, Sheik Hadithah prints out the photo and
smirks. Addressing an overhead spy-cam, he points at Nana’s monitor.
Patch me into
bank of surveillance views appears on Nana’s screen—one of which,
displays a scene identical to the print he holds up for comparison.
scene shifts left—movement can be seen in foreground and background.
scene shifts right—a stiff breeze stirs clouds and vegetation.
Nothing moves in the least, neither
foreground nor background.
You said she
could not leave the Palace without being detected? Clever girl, clever girl. That...
(He points at
the view from CAM-4.)
... is no doubt
focused on one of these...
(He holds up
... fixed in
front of its lens, I’ll wager, by some shrewd device.
speaking to the overhead spy-cam,
subterfuge, then summon a vehicle.
How, may I
inquire, did you come by Nana's password?
It is every
little girl’s password, is it not?
She never told me.
Ah. She changed
it not long ago. Of late, it is
Opening a folder entitled ROOTS,
the Sheik scans collated copies of
correspondence, the last of which expands to dominate Nana’s monitor—including
three sites in Wellington and Stuyvesant Fink in close-up.
Who is he?
himself; The Great Progenitor—Nana’s father, so to speak; she the fruit of
his mind if not of his loins. I dare say you have met him. In facsimile?
No, I think
He does not look
familiar? Times two? "Chang and Eng"? Oh, come, come; Nana’s recent 'masterpiece.'
Prince is clearly nonplussed, less by the resemblance than by the Sheik’s pervasive
intelligence—evasions of which might very well prove lethal, Nana’s life and limb now in jeopardy no less than his own. Key to their
success is the Sheik’s impending goose chase.
One hour after the Sheik, in his limo, exits the Palace, his vehicle
returns—tinted glass obscuring the armed men inside.
The Prince, in a white burnoose,
shuffling slowly, Nana at his side, emerges from a bunker-like garage and
angles onto the Heliport.
Upon boarding the commandeered whirlybird, the couple lifts
off, banks, and flees.