They hated him.

So when they saw the break between him and Virlomi, they exploited it.

Or…was Virlomi behind this?

Was Virlomi pregnant with his child?

The Caliph is dead. But here is his baby, born after he died but infused with the gifts of God from his birth. In the name of the baby Caliph, the council of wazirs will rule. And since the mother of the new Caliph is ruler of India, he will join the two great nations in one. With Virlomi as regent, of course.

No. Virlomi could not have wanted him murdered.

Ivan would have an airplane waiting. The airplane that brought him. With his own trusted crew.

Alai drove at a normal pace. But he did not drive to the checkpoint where he normally entered the airport grounds. In all likelihood, that place would be manned by the conspirators. Instead, he went to a service gate.

The guard sauntered over and started to tell him only authorized service vehicles could use this gate.

“I’m the Caliph, and I want to go through this gate.”

“Oh,” said the guard, looking confused. “I see. I—”

He pulled out a cellphone and started to punch at it.

Alai didn’t want to kill this man. He was an idiot, not a conspirator. So he swung the door open, bumping into the man. Not hard. Just enough to get his attention. Then he closed the door and reached through the window. “Give me that cellphone.”

The soldier gave it to him. Alai switched it off.

“I’m the Caliph. When I say to let me through, you don’t have to ask anyone else’s permission.”

The soldier nodded and ran to the controls and the gate slid open.

As soon as Alai was through the gate, he saw a small corporate jet with Cyrillic lettering under the Common letters naming the corporation. The kind of plane Ivan would have used.

The engines started up as Alai approached. No, as Ivan’s car approached.

Alai stopped the car and got out. The door of the jet was open, forming steps to the ground. Holding one hand on the pistol in his pocket—for he was taking this plane whether it was Ivan’s or not—Alai walked up the steps.

A businessman—or so he seemed—waited for him inside. “Where’s Ivan?” he asked.

“We’re not waiting for him,” said Alai. “He died saving me.”

The man nodded once, then went to the door and pushed the button to raise it. Meanwhile he shouted, “Let’s go!” and then said to Alai, “Please sit down and fasten your seat belt, my Caliph.”

The plane began taxiing before the door was closed.

“Do nothing out of the ordinary,” said Alai. “Nothing to alert them. There are weapons here that could easily shoot down this plane.”

“Our plan exactly, sir,” said the man.

What would the conspirators do, when they found out that Alai had escaped?

They would do nothing. They would say nothing. As long as Alai might turn up alive somewhere, they dared not be on record as saying anything.