The Reykjavik Assignment (Yael Azoulay #3)(25)

There was nothing, at least as far as she could see. A steady climb up the ladder before being appointed an assistant secretary-general in the Department of Peacekeeping, a position senior enough to merit a coveted corner office. She checked back through 2011, 2010, right back to 2008, when he had first been appointed as an ASG. Then she saw it. A single line that had disappeared from the subsequent biographies.





10

Najwa sat down at her desk, trying to clear a space in the chaos. UN reports, press releases, media advisories, briefing notes from think tanks and analysts, newspapers, and glossy magazines were piled up on every inch of surface space. What there was not was a notebook. Or even a clean sheet of paper. It was ten minutes to nine, and she wanted to write down a few notes on her meeting with Riyad Bakri—and by hand, not electronically—while she still remembered their conversation, before she started digging into the DC bomb and the apparent emergence of a new Middle Eastern terrorist group.

Najwa had worked at the UN for two years, appointed as Al-Jazeera’s first female bureau chief after stints in Kabul, Jerusalem, and Paris. Born in Rabat, a niece of the King of Morocco, she had gone to school in Geneva and Paris, and then studied at Oxford and at Yale, where she had caused a minor scandal by modeling swimwear for a French designer. Najwa had no trouble cultivating sources. UN officials and most diplomats were often flattered to be courted, especially by attractive female journalists, and were usually ready to talk—especially over lunch or dinner in one of several excellent restaurants located in the building. Those seeking privacy could retire to one of the many eateries nearby, or one of the more obscure cafés dotted around the complex.

She picked up that week’s edition of Security Council Insider and glanced underneath to find a half-empty packet of chewing gum. She took out a stick, unwrapped it, and began to chew as she flicked through the newsletter, temporarily distracted by its promise of “Exclusive UN insider access and information.” Security Council Insider was a subscription-only publication that cost $500 a year. Its stories were written in a gossipy style and were usually anonymously sourced to “UN insiders,” “a confidential contact,” or via the passive construction “SCI understands.” But they were almost always accurate. SCI was published by a company that Najwa knew was owned by the cousin of an assistant secretary general, who dealt with the Security Council, in the Department for Political Affairs. High-level confidential information, for which the ASG was the obvious source, routinely appeared in the newsletter, but nobody had bothered to make the link. Or, if they had, to do anything about it. Najwa had toyed with doing a story on UN officials privately profiting from their public roles, but some of them were also her best sources. So that idea was on the back burner, at least for now.

This issue included an article that she had been meaning to read on the Reykjavik Sustainability Conference. Najwa had never been to Iceland, nor did she plan to visit. The very word ice was enough to put her off. She wasn’t that interested in sustainability, either, but she read through the story to the end.

And watch that Icelandic timetable. SCI understands that there are several hours between the closure of the conference and the SG’s flight home. We were unable to obtain President Freshwater’s schedule, but we do know that both she and Fareed Hussein enjoy a walk on the beach. And Reykjavik has plenty of those, even if they are kind of wind-blown.

We suggest a stroll along the seafront to Hofoi, the lovely white house where Presidents Reagan and Gorbachev held a summit back in 1986. That meeting was the start of the end of the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union. Or maybe along the peninsula to Bessastadir, the beautiful but isolated presidential residence. Nowadays, of course, it’s the conflict between the United States and Iran that has us all worried. Which is why we were pleased to hear that President Kermanzade might be enjoying some Atlantic air as well.

Najwa drew a red ring around the final couple of paragraphs. She had not known Kermanzade was going to Reykjavik. There was no way to check for sure, but SCI valued its $500-a-year subscribers and had never been wrong yet. The SCI story was probably enough to sway Najwa. Just a snatched appearance of the three leaders together would be enough to justify the trip.

A former academic at Tehran University who specialized in modern Iranian film before becoming the first female minister of education, Kermanzade had won a surprise victory in the recent presidential election. Iran was changing, and with 40 percent of the population under thirty-five, its citizens were chafing at the mullahs’ restrictions. Not only was Kermanzade a woman, she was also a reformer elected on a platform of easing some of the restrictions of Sharia law, and reducing what she called Iran’s “foreign commitments”—shorthand for cutting back support for Shia militias in Iraq and Hezbollah in Lebanon—and thawing relations with both the “Great Satan,” the United States, and the “Little Satan,” Great Britain. There was even talk of opening relations with Israel. Her win had sent the conservatives and hard-liners into a frenzy. Most analysts predicted Kermanzade would resign—or worse—by the end of the year.

But could the logistics work? It was short notice to plan a trip across the Atlantic. Najwa glanced at her watch. Tomorrow night was the Friday reception for the launch of the KZX Development School at Columbia University. The Sustainability Conference was due to start on Sunday morning. President Freshwater and her Iranian counterpart were due to speak on Monday, so she needed to get to Reykjavik by early Monday morning with her crew. That meant an overnight flight. There was bound to be a UN travel facility for the press, but she needed to check before she booked seats. By the time she and Sami had realized that the airplane to the Istanbul Summit was a KZX company freebie they were on board and about to take off. KZX would almost certainly sponsor the press airplane to Reykjavik, to dovetail nicely with its new partnership with Columbia University, and neither she nor Sami could accept such a free ride again. So they needed to fly commercial.