“What is this?” the Sheikh asked, his voice sharp. “What did she say?”
“I… I…” Ibrahim stammered, pulling his hand back from Cole.
“I was just telling Mr. Ibrahim how much I admired his academic work,” Elena said, switching back to the formal Gulf dialect, her voice full of false innocence. “He wrote a fascinating paper on how dishonest translators can attempt to slip kickback clauses into negotiations, specifically by using the term ‘a preferred subcontractor’ when their client simply meant ‘local labor.’ It’s a classic deceitful tactic.”
She held Ibrahim’s gaze, her smile unwavering. “A lesser translator might have missed it. But you and I… we know the difference, don’t we, Mr. Ibrahim?”
There was a terrible, profound silence in the room. Ibrahim was trapped. He was sweating. The Sheikh was not a stupid man. He looked at Ibrahim and he understood instantly. He had been played. They had been played.
“Ibrahim,” the Sheikh said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. “Is this true? Did you attempt to deceive me and my guests?”
“Your Excellency, I… it was a misunderstanding, a linguistic nuance,” Ibrahim pleaded, his career evaporating before his eyes.
“A nuance?” the Sheikh roared, his voice bouncing off the glass. “You lied. You used this… this tactic in my negotiation!”
“He did,” Elena said quietly, her voice cutting through the Sheikh’s rage. “He proposed it to you as a compromise. And then he deliberately mistranslated it to us as a symbolic gesture. He was robbing you both.”
The Sheikh’s face was purple with rage. He snapped his fingers. Two large security guards who had been standing by the door entered the room.
“Get this thief out of my sight,” the Sheikh commanded. “He is finished in this city. He will be finished in this entire hemisphere.”
Ibrahim, pale and shaking, was physically escorted from the room. The room was silent again. The deal which had been done was now in tatters. The trust was broken. Mr. Cole looked like he was going to be sick. Thorn just stared at the door where Ibrahim had vanished.
Elena, her heart hammering, turned to the Sheikh. “Your Excellency,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “I… We… deeply apologize. This was a violation of your trust. Of our trust.”
The Sheikh looked at her, his anger still radiating. “You… You knew. You heard it, and you exposed it.”
“It was my job to protect my client, sir,” Elena said. “And it was my duty to protect the honor of this negotiation.”
The Sheikh stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. Then a slow, deep laugh started in his chest. It was not a happy laugh, but it was not an angry one. It was a laugh of pure, astonished respect.
“Mr. Thorn,” the Sheikh boomed, turning to Julian. “This… this woman, she has the eyes of a hawk, and the courage of a lion. Where did you find her?”
Thorn, who had been watching Elena with an expression of sheer awe, finally spoke. “She… found me, Your Excellency.”
“Ha!” The Sheikh slapped the table. “I see. Well, the snake is gone from our garden. Now let us talk—really talk—with no more lies.” He looked at Elena. “And you, Miss Sanchez, you will sit next to me. I am tired of translators. From now on, I will speak to you, and you will speak to him. We will make this deal. Together.”
The deal was signed three days later. It was a better deal than Thorn had ever imagined. The Sheikh, impressed by Elena’s integrity and Thorn’s wisdom in trusting her, had conceded on almost every major point. The two-billion-dollar project was secure.
The flight back to Chicago was quiet. Mr. Cole slept, exhausted. Elena was staring out the window, watching the curve of the earth. Thorn was sitting across from her, a glass of untouched whiskey on the table. He hadn’t said much since the meeting. As they began their descent over Lake Michigan, he finally spoke.
“How did you know?” he asked. “About the kickback. How did you know to call his bluff with that academic paper?”
Elena turned from the window. “I didn’t,” she said.
“What?”
“I lied. I’ve never read a paper by him. I don’t even know if he’s ever written one. I just knew that a man that arrogant, who was willing to cheat in a room that big, had to have an ego. I gambled that he saw himself as a brilliant strategist, so I quoted his ‘brilliant work’ back to him. It was the only way to expose him without accusing him. I just needed him to believe that I was on his level, and that he’d been caught.”
Julian Thorn stared at her. He wasn’t shocked. He was something else. He started to laugh. It was a low, genuine laugh, the first one she had ever heard from him…
