“The kids need passports and exit visas,” said Rania. “I don’t seen any alternative. We have to convince Kareem and the cleric to help us.”

“How? We’ve got nothing to bargain with.”

A muscle twitched in Rania’s cheek.

“Listen to me,” she said, “Kareem says the US is just waiting for an excuse to attack, and then he believes Washington will hand power to him and his supporters.”

“So?”

“Kareem and his group want to prod America into action. They want a crisis, a crisis that will give the Americans a reason to invade. The sooner the better.”

“What’s your point?”

“We offer Kareem a deal.” Rania stared grimly through the windshield. “He gives us the passports and visas. In return, we give him Ally.”

Huda blinked.

“Ally?”

“The girl has been lying to us this whole time. She’s an American.”

“American? No, she’s Australian. I’ve seen her passport.”

“In that case, Ally must have dual citizenship. She’s been hiding it.”

Huda’s mind whirled. Ally, an American?

“Even if this was true, how would it help us?”

“I told you,” sighed Rania, “the opposition wants to trigger a crisis. Nothing would anger the US more than Baghdad taking an American hostage.”

“A hostage?” Huda’s fingernails dug into the faded leather seat. “You can’t be serious.”

Rania kept her eyes on the dusty road, the scabrous sidewalk, the plastic bags and rusty cans heaped in the gutter.

“The American CIA has used diplomats’ wives as spies before. How do we know Ally’s not one too? She lied to get into Iraq, and she’s been lying ever since.”

“Come on, that’s crazy.”

“She’s always asking questions and nosing around.”

“That’s because she’s a journalist, not a spy.”

“A journalist?”

“She admitted to me she worked at a newspaper, but then she tried to convince me she was a secretary. Can you believe that?”

“An American and a journalist.” Rania’s eyes glittered with tears of betrayal. “I hate to say it, but that will suit the opposition even better.”

Huda felt sick to her core.

“We can’t do this.”

“Look, we tell Kareem we have the information he needs to trigger the Americans. But we won’t give him the details until our children have their passports and are on their way to the border.”

“What about Ally? If she’s an American . . .” A shiver took its time crawling down Huda’s spine. She’d betrayed Ally time and time again. She’d lied and blackmailed and taken kickbacks. But handing her over to the regime was a depth Huda wasn’t ready to plumb. “We don’t know what the regime might do. They could send her to Abu Ghraib. Or worse.”