The interior was hot and stuffy.  There were no windows and the only

illumination came from an overhead skylight.  Without a word the guards

retreated and closed the door.

Annnar yawned, casually held up his wristwatch as if checking the time.

Next he removed his dark glasses and rubbed his eyes.  The practiced

gestures enabled him to locate the tiny lens of a TV camera within the

design of the hanging carpet without giving his discovery away.

He stewed for nearly an hour before the carpet was pulled aside and

Akhmad Yazid strutted through a small archway into the room.

The spiritual leader of the Egyptian Muslims was young, no more than

thirty-five.  He was a small man; he had to look up to meet Ammar's

eyes.  His face did not have the precise features of most Egyptians, the

chin and cheekbones were softer, more rounded.  His head was covered by

a white lace cloth wound in an abbreviated turban, and his broom

handle-dun body was draped in a white silk caftan.  When moving from

shadow to light, his eyes seemingly altered from black to dark brown.

As a sign of respect, Ammar gave a slight nod without looking Yazid in

the eye.

"Ah, my friend," Yazid said warmly.  "Good to have you back."

Ammar looked up, smiled and began playing the game. "I'm honored to

stand in your presence, Akhmad Yazid."

"Please sit," Yazid said.  It was an order rather than an invitation.

Ammar complied, sitting on the small wooden stool so Yazid could look

down on him.  Yazid also added another form of humiliation.  He circled

the room as he lectured without prologue, forcing Amrnar to twist around

the stool to follow him.

"Every week brings a major challenge to President Hasan's fragile

authority.  All that prevents his fall is the loyalty of the military.

He can still rely on the 350,000-strong army for support.  for the

moment, Defense Minister Abu Hamid straddles the fence.  He has assured

me he will throw his support to ouir movement for an Islamic republic,

but only if we will a national referendum without bloodshed."

"Is that bad?" asked Ammar with an innocent expression.

Yazid gave him a cold stare.  "The man is a pro-Western charlatan, too

cowardly to give up American aid.  All that matters to him are his

precious jets, helicopter gunships and tanks.  He fears Egypt will go

the way of Iran.  The idiot insists on an orderly transition of

governments so loans from world banks and financial aid from America

will keep pouring in,"

Them He paused, gazing directly into Ammar's eyes, as if daring his

prize assassin to contradict him again.  Ammar remained silent.  The

stifling room began to close in on him.

"Abu Hamid also demands my promise that Hala Kamil will remain

Secretary-General of the United Nations," Yazid added.

"Yet you ordered me to eliminate her," Ammar said, curious.

Yazid nodded.  "Yes, I wanted the bitch dead because she is using her