“There are laws against subversion, conspiracy, and treason too, Khan,” Salaam said bitterly. “But since when have you ever been concerned with the law, except when it most benefits you? You hide behind your robes and the holy Quran like a desert scorpion, hopping out into the sunlight just long enough to strike, then hide in the shadows once again and wait for your victim to die before devouring him.”

“Take great care, woman,” al-Khan warned. “You try my patience.”

But Susan hobbled over to block his path. “I will get you for what you did, Khan,” she hissed. “If it takes my very last breath, I will avenge my husband’s killer—you and your puppet master, Zuwayy.”

“Get out of my way, woman,” Khan ordered. His bodyguards were ready the instant he made eye contact. They had been staying back, visible but not intrusive, threatening but not imminently so, but when al-Khan motioned for them, they moved like coiled snakes. One of them grabbed for Salaam’s cane, the other for her right arm.

But as fast as they moved, Susan was faster. She let the man grabbing her cane pull her toward him, then merely redirected her momentum slightly, driving the crook of the cane up into his throat. The hall echoed with the crack of his larynx, and he collapsed to the floor, clutching his shattered windpipe. Then she immediately swung the cane with her left hand and cracked it hard against her second attacker’s right kneecap. Even though she heard more bone crack, the big, burly bodyguard did not go down, but twisted Susan’s right wrist around and down, trying to force her to the floor.

Susan didn’t resist, but simply twisted faster. The bodyguard lost his grip with a howl of pain when he tried to put weight on his right leg, sinking down to his left knee, and Susan was free. She watched and waited. The second bodyguard did exactly as she thought he would: He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his side arm, a fearsome-looking Spanish-made Star Z-84 mini-submachine gun. Susan simply swung the cane as if she were making a two-wood tee shot, aiming not for the gun but the bodyguard’s head. The snap! they heard was the left side of his jaw, and he went down hard.

A stunned Khalid al-Khan stared in amazement at the writhing men at his feet. The entire fight had lasted only seconds, but both highly trained bodyguards looked as if they might be in critical condition. “Obviously you have done a lot more than just be the supportive wife of a president, Madame.”