xp_logs | Song of Isaac, Key of Solomon: The Mountain Goes to War.

Farouk mobilizes Alamut to meet a growing threat.

"Back to Neramani, I see." Alamut's fractured council was used to individual mandates being pushed through as organizational priorities. Yet although Amahl Farouk's latest tabling of Prime Minister D. Ken Neramani potential threat may have been exasperating, it wasn't dismissed either. For reasons known only to Farouk, Jacob Reiscz' dissenting voice had fallen silent in conversations, and now it was Farouk's opinion which dominated the discourse.

Amahl smiled thinly at the man across the table, voicing the complaint clearly shared by most of the assemblage. "Well, we all have our hobby horses to flog, don't we, Navid?"

A soft chuckle rippled through the room, with Navid Hashim raising his hand to Farouk in an acknowledgment of a well-landed blow.

Amahl bowed back slightly, content at the momentarily dispelled sense of exhaustion that had been dominating the room. "At the danger of boring the Conclave, however, I would suggest that the Lhatsun Affair and its aftermath bore out my warnings about the gentleman from New Delhi rather graphically."

Farouk turned toward the hooded figure at the head of the table, the face of the Hidden Imamt obscured in accordance with the tradition and custom. "I am afraid I am forced to call for a ruling on the matter, Your Eminence."

"Neramani is a threat, certainly, Amahl. But is he directly a threat to us? Enough to risk being seen to move openly." The old man may have been beyond his best years by decades, but he was still cunning. "Alamut has survived through secrecy for centuries. To our enemies, we are a mirage; a wisp of smoke that has never been proven; never confirmed. It has isolated those who would destroy us, undermining their strength through the disbelief of those who support it. A myth for the paranoid and the over-zealous. Why would a learned, or better, modern politician believe such nonsense." He stressed the word, underlying their protection.

"Sire, we--"

"Quiet, Navid. I haven't given in to senility yet." He said testily. "You know what you ask of us involves great risk, Farouk. Tell me why it must be so. Convince me."

Farouk rose, and cast a look over the men (and one singularly formidable woman) sitting around the table. Distantly he missed Esteban. The bodyguards weren't allowed into the Conclave meetings, of course, but just the idea of Trotsky outside the room, somebody whom he could trust to watch his back. He missed that.

So he smiled, a dark and empty expression more befitting a creature of the cold depths, rising hungrily to the surface.

"You must forgive me, gentlemen. I am of course an outsider here, allowed my liberties by the grace of The Most High, The Benevolent, The Shadow of God on Earth."

The Imam chuckled, the dry rasp of the ancient man dissipating easily in the air of the hall. The process of ascending to the top of the Mountain was not a journey for the weak of mind. Disraeli's old adage of 'laying the flattery on with a trowel' when dealing with royalty was (so far) only marginally useful in the unforgiving confines of the Alamut. Yet, amusing the Imam, who knew Farouk all too well, had its own advantages.

"Yet I am simply a bureaucrat. A middle man used to the haggling and dealing of the bazaars than to the councils of the mighty."

Now it was more than just the Imam who had to hide their grins or disbelieving starts, and Farouk inclined his head again. "Yes. I am simple man. So let me be blunt."

"Oh, good." Imam commented drily. "This should be interesting."

Farouk shrugged deprecatingly. "It is quite simple, gentlemen. I should only like to make two brief points. One - D. Ken Neramani is insane, or - at best - only a few months away from crossing that increasingly fragile line. In and of itself this is hardly a cause for concern or a reason for the Mountain to bestir itself. We have seen madmen on the thrones before, even thrones supported by the nuclear weapons. But Neramani is increasingly blundering into our sphere of influence. This organization was established as a shield for our people, Muslims and mutants. Neramani has opened a season on both. You have the figures on your desks - he's engaged in nothing less than a systematic culling of the Homo Superior from among the Islamic subjects of his empire.

Amahl shrugged again. "Still. India is a world upon itself. Why should it bother us. We are after all of the Crescent. Looking too far afield will break the Society on the shoals of over-reach."

"Very good point." Hashim added, with catty softness.

Farouk smiled back. "Unfortunately, Neramani is past thinking in such reasonable terms. If we do not act, within three months he will move into Pakistan. Within a six he will be involved in hostilities with Iran. Within a year the Chinese will enter the fray and we'll will be facing the Third World War, with the central theater of the conflict unfolding right here, in our backyard."

The room was silent, the oppressive pause stretching and then finally snapping as Sameera Halabi cleared her throat softly. "An interesting and rather... gloomy scenario, Amahl. Would you care to share with us you logic?"

Farouk took off his glasses absently and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sunk back into his seat. "Ah yes. This brings me to my second point. Calysee has escaped. Neramani is planning to blame Pakistan."

"Calysee is not jailed and is a Pakistani citizen." Halabi held up her hand. "Yes, we know that is fiction, but the woman escaping from her self-imposed house arrest in Southern Pakistan is hardly going to inflame Neramani's supporters. Unless her escape is something entirely different." Her face changed slightly, and the grins and smirks around the table at Farouk's servile pantomime began to fade as potential scenarios started to churn in their minds. "Amahl, what is it that you know?"

Farouk raised his eyes to meet Sameera's and the mask of affability slid off his face with the suddenness that was even more disconcerting than the expression it revealed.

"I have facts and an opinion. I shall offer facts first. In your folders you have the report that shall be released to the news tomorrow. It will be filled with usual nonsense, the point of which will be to suggest that Calysee Neramani’s kidnappers engineered a daring attack. The corruption of the Pakistani auxiliaries will be blamed. Unfortunately - as you will see in the attached materials, the security of her compound was entrusted purely to the UN authorities. In fact only NATO forces were involved. Unfortunately, I can offer no transcripts of the eyewitness accounts - three companies of the Royal Marines and a detachment of Kommando Spezialkräfte were completely wiped out. There were no survivors. In fact, the compound no longer exists."

"Excuse me, Amahl..."

"Yes, Navid, I know. If there are no survivors - why am I asserting that Calysee is still alive and at large?"

"Well.. yes."

"They left a video message. Apparently they wanted the world to know that - and I quote - 'It begins'."

The silence descended on the room again as the lords of the Alamut digested the news and leafed through their dossiers. All except Sameera.

She stared thoughtfully at Farouk, until finally a small smile tugged at her lips. "Out with it, then. Before you spontaneously combust."

"Pardon?"

"Your opinion, Amahl. What do you think?"

Farouk drummed his fingers on the table, his eyes sliding toward the quiet figure of Jacob Reiscz for a brief moment, before coming back to rest on Sameera.

"Oh that. Well... I think that following my last talk with Ms. Neramani, it would appear that I grievously underestimated her potential continued usefulness, willing or not, to her brother."

Farouk's eyes went cold and dark, a macabre contrast with the warm mundane voice. "I believe that she took very much to heart my warning that if she managed to put her mind back together and then found herself in my hands again she would wish fervently for death."

The drumming fingers stopped. "For a very long time."

"Your report to us was clear that wasn't an option, Farouk. To use your own tantalizing phrase, 'I quote', you said she would be unable to regain her mind or another telepath undo the hold without destroying her brain forever." Reiscz finally emerged from his silence. It was a careful riposte; a pinprick at his credibility.

"Calysee Neramani doesn't need to be alive to be dangerous." Navid said, stroking his short beard. "Her death would be useful for Neramani as a challenge to the UN authority in Pakistan. Kidnapped by just the right group, and it could go further than that. Ken is clever, but he is still an elected head of state. It's not just India's public he needs some kind of cover with to extend hostilities. Who's claiming responsibility, Amahl? Or, more appropriately, who will be claiming responsibility in a few days, along with the stunning proof that the popular Calysee is alive?"

"I can not claim certitude, but I feel confident that LeT will take ownership of this little episode. It's only logical..."

There were nods around the table as the Conclave worked though the implications. Lashkar-e-Taiba, the Army of the Righteous, had been a force in the South East Asia long before Pakistan descended into complete chaos. Unlike their Taliban brethren in Afghanistan or the remnants of the Pakistani army gone warlord, LeT made the decision to refrain from lurching out into the open to take advantage of the country's disintegration. As a result, following the UN involvement, they grew into the largest conglomerate of the opposition, controlling militant groups through the remnants of both Pakistan and Afghanistan. Even Kashmir was, once again, increasingly feeling their strength.

It seemed unlikely that an event of this magnitude and, apparently, careful planning could have taken place without their knowledge, consent and assistance.

“The Lashkar-e-Taiba can make use of Neramani, especially in light of her brother’s policy, but it is curious to choose her, considering her popularity in Pakistan.” Sameera said slowly, as she considered the situation from all angles. “But it would seem to me that the main beneficiary in this situation would be D. Ken himself. Targeting his family all but legitimizes his position that the UN force is unable to contain the border from another attack like Srinagar.”

"Providing a perfect pretext for crossing the border into Pakistan. First under aegis of taking over the search for Calysee, perhaps. Then eventually, taking over the entire burden of occupation - which the UN is increasingly eager to relinquish, in any rate."

Farouk sighed and leaned back. "As I said, gentlemen. We stand on the brink of Armageddon."

There was a long, slow silence, until finally the old man spoke again. His piercing gaze centred on Farouk. While the council would argue, advise and bicker between themselves, ultimately the decisions came from him. "What do you propose, Amahl?" He said finally.

"I think it's time for the Mountain to move, Your Eminence. I would like the Society's support in getting in front of this situation before it escalates out of control."