Page 17 of Doubts of the Egoist
“Since when did you become this superstitious, you apostle of purity? We hadyoufor years; so far, no bad luck has befallen us.” As soon as the mockery fell from Yugo’s lips, the dangerous contents of Tobias’ hard drive, stolen by Mio, flashed into his memory.Or not…
Tobias’ “yet” echoed his thoughts as the pale face stretched into a toothy grin. “Call it professional intuition. Anyway, I have something else to discuss.”
“What’s stopping you?” Yugo glanced at his watch. “Your five minutes are running out.”
Tobias rolled his eyes as he relaxed in the guest chair and drawled in a single breath, “There was a series of attacks in Kabul and an attempted assassination of the President of Afghanistan, Baha al Din Salah, this morning. Consequently, the Al-Amin group was declared an international terrorist organization. So, the United Nations decided to strengthen itsposition in Afghanistan and support the legitimate president. You would have known this if you weren’t so busy. But who can blame you? Puppy is adorable.”
“Mind your own business, Tobias.” Yugo cut him off with a raised hand as his gaze shot to Greg to confirm the news. The side of his wide mouth twitched as Greg gave a curt nod.
Great. I can’t even have a morning off without all hell breaking loose.
For a long moment, Yugo remained silent, digesting the information. He took another lazy drag, rolling the smoke on his tongue. The bitter vanilla completely erased the sweet aftertaste of Kuon’s lips, helping him concentrate.
Supporting radical rebels had always been risky, but providing weapons to a universally recognized terrorist organization was nearly suicidal. Also, he didn’t want Ahmad Amin to achieve his goals. He liked things as they were. The imposition of Sharia law was a dangerous product of the paranoid mind of an aging man who had sunk into grief after the execution of his favorite son, Ali. Sharia law for Afghanistan could mean that all the poppy fields would be burned to the ground, hence no heroin for Yugo. He couldn’t let that happen.
A swirl of white cloud escaped his lips as he bit the side of his thumb, sinking deeper into his thoughts. “Did you recruit Ahmad’s secretary?”
“No, but I have other sources.”
“Never mind. Ahmad has other sons, doesn’t he? I suppose you already have an opinion about them?”
Tobias’ eyes narrowed to slits, as if Yugo had touched on another unpleasant subject, but his lips curled into a thinsmile. “Yes, two more sons. Hasan, the oldest one, is thirty-six. He is loud, narrow-minded, and stubborn. He would bend over backward to please his father, but the only thing Ahmad thinks he’s capable of is washing his car. If I were you, I wouldn’t put my eggs in his basket.”
Yugo raised a brow. “What about the other one?”
“Kais, twenty-eight years old. Until recently, he had little interest in politics or business. He studied economics at Oxford for two years, got kicked out for indecent behavior, and finished his MA through distance education. He’s more interested in women and pleasure than anything else. Unlike his older brother, he’s not repulsed by Western culture. But—” Tobias lifted a finger in a theatrical pause, “—though he’s quite smart, he’s Ahmad’s least favorite son because he’s not religious, reliable, or traditional. He shaves, wears Western clothes, gambles, drinks, and spends his daddy’s money on whores. Some say he even has a harem. He thinks with his dick, so he’s not very trustworthy if you ask me.”
“Just like you,” Yugo deadpanned. Greg brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, fighting a grin.
“Worse.” Tobias snorted, clearly unoffended. “Anyway, Ahmad would rather leave his empire to one of his daughters than Kais.”
Yugo nodded, acknowledging the challenge. “Still, I’d like you to start working on him, since we don’t seem to have any other options. You said his interest in the business is growing?”
“Yes, but don’t be mistaken. Kais is only interested in it because it promises the means to obtain what he deems desirable.”
“What does he want?” Yugo’s eyes narrowed.
“Pretty but useless things and enough power to get them.”
Tobias’ vague reply didn’t tell Yugo much, so he shrugged it off.
“Like everyone else. Whatever his motivation, I’d like to exploit it. By the way, did you fulfill the last order?”
“Almost. Mere formalities remain. By the end of the month, two German military bases will write off a dozen old Soviet tanks. They were promised to me. All the ammunition will be shipped by Saturday.”
“Good. When are you going to Kabul?” Yugo flicked off the ashes in the crystal ashtray.
“After I track down the little shit?” Tobias asked, leaning forward, elbows on his thighs. The V-neck of his distressed maroon T-shirt revealed sharp collarbones.
“Still no word from him?”
“He didn’t call, but today, he returned the money—all of it.”
“He did?” Yugo cocked a brow. Mio’s sensible behavior pleased him; it indicated that he could, after all, control his demons and think clearly when he wanted to. “Why haven’t you found him yet?”
“Because he doesn’t want to be found?” Tobias’ top lip curled up, but he quickly concealed his irritation with another crooked smile. “He’s up to something, I tell you.” In the time that they’d known each other, Tobias had been serious a handful of times. Yugo was witnessing one of those rare moments when his creepy smile had trouble staying on his lips. “Think about it. The crypto market crashed right before he returned everything.”
Yugo smirked. “Are you implying that he’s somehow involved? I’m glad you think so highly of him, although I doubt he has that kind of dedication.”
