Brandishing a Crown. Rita Herron
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vehicle, each scanning the area for questionable characters.
Shouts from disappointed fans and protesters echoed from behind the gates as the limo driver drove toward the exit. Police had blocked off the parking lot as well as streets, and a pair of police cars led the entourage of limos as the collective group left the airport.
A mob of protesters lined the front gate, news station reporters and helicopters circled like vultures, and anti-Muslims waved American flags voicing their opinions.
Stefan frowned.
Even though he lived in the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern nations surrounded him, he failed to understand the hatred. He had valuable ideas which could benefit Kyros and the U.S., and he refused to allow either country to deter his mission of peace.
“I am sorry you did not get to hold the initial press conference,” Hector said quietly. “I understand how important this trip is to you, Prince Stefan.”
Stefan glanced out the window at the passing scenery. Night had descended, yet moonlight streaked the horizon, giving the rugged farm and ranchland an ethereal feel. Alpine meadows and Aspen forests filled his vision. Elk, deer, antelope, wild horses, cattle, mountain goats, and prairie animals roamed in their natural setting as if life had been turned back a century to a much simpler time.
A time before hatred and war and pollution.
“We must find out who sent this message,” Stefan said quietly, “determine if it was in fact a threat, and if so, discern what the person who sent it might know.”
“Yes, Prince Stefan,” Hector said. “Edilio is trying to trace the origin of the message as we speak.”
They passed an impressive sprawling ranch called the Seven M, then passed the Wind River reservation which jutted up to the resort property. Finally the driver veered down a side road and Stefan noted signs indicating the Wind River Ranch and Resort. The two-hundred acre secluded resort was situated on a working cattle ranch, a concept that intrigued him.
Yet this beautiful state was also troubled with pollution from their oil drilling. An area in which he possessed expertise and a problem he intended to rectify.
The main resort guest accommodations appeared as the driver wound up the drive. A sense of welcome engulfed him at the rustic charm, and the floor to ceiling windows and skylights with their majestic views of the mountains.
Minutes later, his security team ushered him through the enormous lobby, which boasted massive stone fireplaces and cozy seating nooks, to a large conference room where the other COIN members joined him.
“I’ll see that your luggage is stowed and your suite properly prepared,” Hector said, then excused himself.
Stefan nodded, then greeted each of the royals in turn while a staff waiter uncorked champagne and passed it amongst them.
“We have much business to attend to,” Amir said. He gestured toward Stefan. “Stefan has alerted us that he received a warning not to trust anyone while here. We do not take this warning lightly. Yet we must forge ahead unscathed by the hostility of those who oppose us.”
“Here, here,” Sebastian said, then raised his champagne flute for a toast.
The men clinked glasses.
“The summit begins tomorrow, but tonight is for us to relax.” A broad smile filled Amir’s face. “I chose this resort for its privacy, beauty and charming hospitality. It would be shameful if we did not become acquainted with the area and partake of the amenities offered.”
“I for one, am looking forward to those amenities,” Stefan said with a devilish grin. “And something the locals call Shoshone lamb and navy beans.”
The men laughed.
“I think a massage might be in order.” Antoine rolled his shoulders. “The long travels seem to have created a kink in my neck.”
More laughter followed as the men chatted about the possibility of attending an American rodeo, trout fishing, and hiking. A waiter appeared announcing dinner, and they were escorted into a private dining suite. Crystal chandeliers, a massive oak table, ornate molding and a picturesque view of the winding river added ambience to the artistically presented array of appetizers, meats, vegetables and desserts.
Stefan lacked a sweet tooth but tried each item displayed, his belly bulging from the fine cuisine. After dinner, drinks were served in a ballroom where they actually mingled with other guests. Stefan was surprised at the warm welcome, his earlier worries dissipating as the drinks and conversation flowed.
Efraim approached him, cognac in hand. “Amir has arranged a limo to drive us to the town of Dumont for some local flavor.”
Stefan arched a brow. “Local flavor? That sounds interesting.”
Efraim laughed. “Yes, no politics tonight. Our friend wants to play.”
“Aren’t you worried about the threat?” Antoine asked.
Amir shrugged. “If we let threats stop us, we would lock ourselves away for eternity and accomplish nothing.”
Stefan nodded, although a frisson of alarm traveled up his spine.
Hector, always the fussy assistant, pulled Stefan aside. “Are you certain this is a good idea, sir? Perhaps you should remain here where it is secure.”
“Amir is right. Do not worry so much, Hector,” Stefan said. “This is my opportunity to see another part of this beautiful state and understand the people and their culture before visiting the oil drilling sites.”
Hector’s gray brows furrowed with concern, but Stefan dismissed him and hurried to join the others.
Dumont was located at the foot of the mountains and served as a point of departure for camping, fishing, hunting, mountaineering, and wilderness travel. They passed a national park as they drove into the town, then the city hall, a museum of Native American history, a casino, bed and breakfast, sporting goods shop, bike shop, Museum of the West, and various other businesses along the square.
“Dumont was named after a famous female expert gambler,” Amir said as they climbed out at a rustic building where loud country music floated in the air.
“Perhaps we should try a game of twenty-one?”
Sebastian and Antoine exchanged grins. “I intend to people watch,” Sebastian said with a devious wink.
Stefan grinned. “You mean women watch?”
“Yes.” Sebastian shrugged. “Purely research, mind you.”
“Right, brother. We shall see what the west holds,” Antoine said with a chuckle.
Stefan tensed as their security guards surrounded them. He would have preferred to visit the town uninhibited by the constant barrage of protectors yet knew it was futile to argue. Still, they made quite an entrance as the agents swept them in.
Locals stared and whispered, some snapping pictures with their mobile phones. A few women gawked and approached for autographs but the security agents warded them off.
Amir seemed preoccupied, as if he was searching the room for someone, and Stefan wondered if he had made friends on his previous visit to the town.
Country music blared, the locals participated in some strange dance called square dancing and clogging, but all the men were entertained.
By 2:00 a.m., jet lag and fatigue set in, and the men filed out, the late night patrons of the honky tonk having imbibed too much to gawk any longer. It appeared that alcohol softened the haze of animosity between the cultures. The fact that Stefan, Antoine and Sebastian had warmed to a few patrons and forced security to grant them some leeway hadn’t hurt their cause, either. Efraim, on the other hand, continued to harbor anti-American sentiment.
Stefan yawned as the limo deposited them back at the resort. “Thank you, Amir, for showing us all a good night. If the remainder of the