‘Yeah well the idea was that they wouldn’t return to their own homelands. We would send say, Syrians to Egypt and Iraqis to Pakistan, Lebanese to London on the basis that their own countries would be too hot for them. Anyway, when Obama announced after his inauguration that all the inmates would be released from Guantanamo bay in one year, it left us a bit short of time, but the year went by and hey, the place is still open. I guess Vince is your lot’s liaison officer. I expect Felix will brief us tomorrow.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Well we’ll be arriving in about six hours. I’m going to get some sleep. Do you want me to get pillows and a blanket for you too? Help you get comfortable.’
‘Thanks, that would be great,’ Gerry replied.
She woke up a couple of hours later with a sore neck. She looked for Ryan but he was nowhere to be seen and in the seat across the aisle from her she saw a man aged about fifty in Captain’s uniform finishing off a meal. He smiled at her when she sat up and held out his hand.
‘Hi, I’m Harvey. You must be Gerry.’
‘That’s right. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Ryan’s prised me away from the controls. All that stuff about not missing flying but he never throws up a chance to do some. Have you done any flying yourself?’
‘I used to have a private pilot’s licence and twin engine rating, but it lapsed some years ago and I’ve not flown since. The largest aircraft I’ve flown is a Piper Seneca.’
‘You want to come and look at our flight deck; you’d be impressed.’
‘Ok, I’d like that,’ said Gerry. What else was there to do for the next few hours? She followed Harvey up to the flight deck door.
‘Alright guys, shift change! Gary, your dinner’s ready. Me and the lady will take over for a while.’ Ryan Carson smiled at Gerry and then spoke to Harvey.
‘Hey Harve, you gonna give the lady a lesson?’
‘Ryan she has a licence and she’s checked out on the Seneca, so I guess she’s already up to your standard,’ the pilot replied, ignoring the innuendo.
Ryan looked at Gerry with some respect. ‘Hey, you never told me you could fly.’
‘No I didn’t,’ she agreed with a smile. She spent the next two hours learning how to operate the big executive jet under Harvey’s patient guidance until Gary came back from his break. She thanked the pilots, returned to the cabin and settled back down to sleep.
After a nine hour flight during which she had managed a few hours of fitful slumber Gerry stared out the aircraft window across the night landscape of Florida seeing the brightly lit cities surrounded by the geometric grid work of street lighting that was a feature of much of the urban United States. She looked at her watch. It was coming up to 9am London time. She set it back five hours, wondering what kind of reception committee would be assembled at 4am on a Saturday morning at a Florida Air Force base. She felt a headache coming on and she lay back in her seat and closed her eyes again.
A hand laid on her shoulder jolted her awake. ‘Whoa there, it’s only me,’ said Carson. Gerry connected with her surroundings and slumped back into her seat again. The burst of adrenaline had set her head throbbing.
‘I’ll feel awful,’ she groaned at him. He looked slightly different. ‘Oh! You’ve shaved. That’s…erm… are we landing soon?’
‘About twenty minutes. Here’s a bottle of water if you’d like it.’
‘Thanks, that’s exactly what I need. I’m probably dehydrated.’ She rummaged in her handbag for a couple of paracetamol, swigged back half the water and then staggered off to the toilet at the back of the plane.
With a pneumatic hiss the main door swung down and humid night air swept into the cabin and formed a slight mist as it mingled with the cold dry atmosphere inside. A few moments later a middle aged man with buzz cut blonde hair, florid face and bright blue eyes, wearing jeans and a red floral shirt came bouncing in.
‘Welcome home you guys!’ he declared. ‘Hey you look good! They’ve been looking after you real well over there, I can tell. Vince! Good to see you. Hello again Ryan! Welcome home, Neil. You ran out of excuse to stay in London then.’ He shook hands, and then turned to Gerry. ‘Hi. You must be Gerry Tate. Happy to meet you.’
‘Well thank you…Mr…?’ said Gerry.
‘Sorry; Felix Grainger …Felix.’
‘Pleased to meet you Felix,’ said Gerry shaking him by the hand and giving him a somewhat bleary eyed smile.
‘Wait, I have a message from your boss Cornwall in London.’ He put his hand in his pocket, and then in his other pocket. ‘Hell I’ve left it in your car!’
‘Our car?’ said Gerry, raising her eyebrows.
‘Well yeah. We figured you’d rather be on the coast at Sarasota for a few days rather than holed up in the airbase. Just give us your cell phone numbers before you go. Unless you’re too tired to drive. I could send someone out to drive you there or you could crash out at the base here for a few hours they have rooms and then drive down later. What’ll it be?’ Rather bemused, Gerry glanced at Vince.
‘Did you follow all that?’ she asked. He had.
‘I’m feeling ok, Felix,’ he said. ‘I’d be happy to drive down to Saratoga, if you’ve booked us in somewhere nice.’
‘Sure, but it’s Sarasota: Saratoga’s in New York where we whipped your ass in seventeen seventy-seven. We’ve booked you mini suites in a resort hotel where we hope you will have a pleasant stay. We’ll be in touch in the afternoon.’
The white Toyota SUV was equipped with satnav, so after two hours driving without having to give too much thought to the journey Vince brought the car to a halt outside a hotel separated from the beach by the coastal road lined with palm trees that swayed slightly in the morning breeze. They checked in and picked up their key cards.
‘I guess we’ll just have to take it easy until they get in touch,’ said Vince. ‘I’m going to get a few hours’ sleep and then perhaps lounge by the pool.’
‘Ok, see you later.’
Gerry opened her hotel room door and found that she had been given a mini suite with separate sitting room and adjoining bedroom with two double beds and bathroom. She shivered in a stream of frigid air. The housekeeper had left the air conditioning turned down to sixty two degrees Fahrenheit. She dumped her luggage in the sitting room, searched for the controller and turned the system off. Without bothering to unpack she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. As she towelled herself dry she ran her tongue over her furred up teeth and debated the advantages of collapsing straight into bed and rummaging around for her toothbrush. The coldness of the room decided the issue and she crawled under the covers. There was a selection of six pillows on the king size bed and they all seemed to be too small and hard or too big and soft. She eventually managed to find a combination that seemed comfortable for her head and neck and then she pulled the duvet up to her ears. Thinking about Ryan kept her awake for another five seconds or so before she fell asleep.
Gerry woke up with a slight ache in her neck and a very full bladder. The digital clock read 09:47 so she had been asleep for less than three hours. She yawned and staggered off to the bathroom.
When she returned she saw a man sitting on the unused bed. Despite the gloom she could see that he was pointing a Beretta automatic at her stomach. She gasped and instinctively draped one arm across her breasts and placed her other hand in front of her crotch, and then gazed at the intruder, her mind racing to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to her kill her, not immediately anyway, because he could have done that already. Perhaps he was a rapist, or he could be some other kind of Patricia Cornwell novel-type nutter and why hadn’t she taken more care to make her room secure and why had he sneaked in on her like this?
‘There’s a bath robe hanging up in the closet.’
The voice was soft spoken, Bostonian educated American, she noted, and this was clearly an invitation for her to put it on. ‘Thanks,’ she replied, and turned toward the closet door.
She opened it and indee
d on hangers she saw two white flannel dressing gowns with the hotel logo embroidered on the pocket. She scanned around the closet searching for any possible weapons. An ironing board was hanging on the wall; metal but too thin to be bullet proof; a steam iron hung on a bracket above it; a hard, blunt instrument if she could get close enough to use it, and the electrical cable she could use for strangulation. What about the hanger itself? None of them were much of a weapon against a handgun.
She thrust her arms into the sleeves of the gown, wrapped it around herself and tied the belt, thought about the iron again but left it in place. She turned to face the intruder, but found that he had walked silently into the sitting room and was pulling back the drapes and Gerry screwed up her eyes as the bright daylight flooded the room.
‘You’re Geraldine Tate,’ he announced. It was clearly not a question
‘That’s correct...and you are?’
The man turned round and gazed at her, unfriendly blue eyes peering out from under white brows.
‘Jasper White, you bastard!’
‘Well it seems you remember me, then.’ He had not changed much since she had last seen him. Despite his age there was still the athletic build. His hair was slightly thinner and as well as the moustache he had a goatee beard.
‘It’s been a few years, White. Why are you in my room?’
‘Ok, I’ll level with you. I want to know the outcome of your meeting with Ali Hamsin. In fact I want you to report to me everything that happens with you and Mr Vincent Parker while you are in the States. Who you see, what they tell you.’ He waved the hand not holding the gun, palm up. ‘Anything at all, really.’
‘Why should I do that for you?’
‘I’m not too pleased that you’ve been released from prison, Tate. If you co-operate with me then perhaps I won’t work too hard to get you put away again.’
‘I didn’t kill Dean Furness. What I told you years ago in that pub; it was the truth.’
Bullshit! The evidence was overwhelming. It was good to see you put away for Dean’s murder and I wasn’t too happy when I learned that you’d been released. I was even less happy when I found out you’ve got yourself a get out of jail free card from your government.’
‘Leaving you’re happiness on one side, I actually have very little knowledge of what’s going on with your people. I just know I have to meet Ali Hamsin.’
‘Maybe, but if you play your part, do what I ask then who knows, maybe I’ll let you walk free.’
‘You bastard! If you come after me I’ll bury you where you’ll never be found.’
‘Well let’s hope that neither of us has to carry out our dire threats.’ He walked to the door and picked the Do Not Disturb Notice off the inside handle. ‘You forgot to put this on the outside of your door. I’ll do it for you.’ Then he walked out into the corridor.
Gerry stared at the door trying to order her thoughts, brooding over the same questions that had troubled her for years. Who had killed Dean Furness? Who had planned to have her incarcerated? What she really wanted was to find out the truth and take revenge. If it was Jasper White, she would be out to bury him. If it wasn’t him then maybe co-operating rather than exchanging threats might be to her advantage. But who was Jasper White working for now and should she trust him?
She yawned, but from years of bitter experience she knew she would never get back to sleep with all these thoughts buzzing around her head. She glanced at the bedside clock. It was only 10:17am local time but 3:17 pm in London. She changed into her bikini with a light sundress over and emerged blinking into the strong morning sunlight. She walked round the landscaped pool area looking for Vince. She stopped in the semi cover of some ornamental palm trees when she saw him sitting by an attractive woman. They each had a tall fruit cocktail in their hand and they were toasting each other with elaborate ceremony. Vince took a pull through the straws and said something amusing to which the woman responded with a chuckle and a smile. Gerry quickly retraced her steps, found a quiet corner to lie down in the sun by herself and turn over in her mind the events of the last few days in which she had been released from the dull grey chrysalis of prison life and emerged into the multi-coloured butterfly world of a Florida resort hotel. She had a strong sense of foreboding? Was it because it all seemed so sudden, so unreal?’
‘Excuse me.’
Gerry opened her eyes. A very attractive young woman with long blond hair was looking down at her with a friendly smile. ‘Are you Gerry Tate?’
‘Yes, you’ve found me.’
The woman held out her hand. ‘I’m Annie Maddon. I work for Felix Grainger,’ she waved vaguely towards the adjacent sun lounger. ‘May I join you?’
She laid out her towel and peeled off her tee shirt and shorts revealing an enviable figure clad in a bright blue patterned bikini.
‘Felix thought you and Vince might be bored so he sent us over to look after you.’ She looked past Gerry shading her eyes with one hand and with the other giving a quick wave and a broad smile that showed perfect teeth. Gerry looked past her shoulder. A handsome man clad in swimming shorts was walking along the other end of the pool. He was well built, with enough musculature to show fitness without looking like a body-building obsessive. He grinned and waved at them and then despite his large reflective sunglasses Gerry realised on the one hand that it was Ryan Carson, and on the other that she might have to start wearing spectacles soon.
‘Hey Gerry, I see the two of you have already met!’ he declared as he reached them and sat down on the end of Annie’s sunbed. He and Annie did not exchange any further greeting and Gerry’s creeping jealousy faded. ‘I was trying to find Vince, but he’s not in his room,’ said Ryan.
‘Oh, he’s over there,’ Gerry turned and pointed but then she realised that Vince and his companion had departed. ‘No, he’s gone.’
‘Never mind, it’s you Felix wants to see.’
‘What…now?
‘No, for lunch. Can we leave in an hour or so?’
‘Where are we going?’ Gerry asked as they drove out of the hotel car park.
‘There’s a restaurant a couple of miles away. Very nice place.’ Annie looked round and down at Gerry’s jeans, her expression hidden by dark sunglasses. ‘You’re not exactly dressed for it…still, too late now.’
‘Did you find Vince?’
‘Ryan tracked him down, but they’re not coming, I think they’re taking a boat out or going windsurfing or something.’
‘Oh, ok.’
Behind a discrete street side façade the inside of the restaurant was expensively decorated. Original oil paintings on oak panelling, white linen tablecloths, genuine silverware, shining crystal and delicate flowers.
This afternoon Felix Grainger was more formally attired in a well-cut suit. He stood up and shook hands with Gerry. ‘Delighted to see you again. Sorry to drag you away.’
‘No problem, Felix. I’m not over here on holiday,’ Gerry assured him.
‘Annie, thank you. Could you come back in an hour from now?’ He watched Annie walk out the entrance. ‘Lovely girl, and very bright, too; Politics and International Studies at Yale.’ He smiled a happy schoolboy grin. ‘Now, how are you enjoying the hotel? Please take a seat.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Gerry, ‘and I’ve been well looked after by Ryan and Annie.’
‘I’m glad you like them. Now how about lunch?’ He turned and signalled a waiter. ‘Could you bring me the lasagne, green salad and another diet coke?
‘And for you, madam?’ the waiter asked Gerry.
‘Caesar salad with shrimp and a bottle of Perrier water, please.’ She smiled at Grainger. ‘So Felix, you invited me, so what can I do for you?’
‘I just wanted to give you an intro to Guantanamo Bay, or Gitmo as it is colloquially known. You’ve not been there before. Most people still have this idea that it’s just a series of cages with the detainees locked up like animals, and of course the pressure groups like to maintain that idea in the public mi
nd. I’ll admit that years back that pretty well described Camp X-ray but that was just temporary. Now everyone’s in Camp Delta. Their accommodation and facilities vary according to how er…accommodating the detainees have been in the matter of their interrogations.’
‘You mean how much they’ve told you,’ Gerry declared.
‘Well you could put it that way,’ admitted Grainger. ‘You’re going to meet with this guy Ali Hamsin, who has information that he will reveal only to you.’
‘Apparently so.’
‘I’ve been briefed to tell you that we’re really hoping that he’s going to give us some hot stuff, but personally I’ve no idea what that might be.’
‘Neither have I,’ Gerry replied.
‘Ok. But I’ve also been authorised to tell you that if your meeting doesn’t bring any results…well, you’re not to worry. Uncle Sam does not want to put your ass back into jail.’
‘Well thank your Uncle Sam very much from me, but I have a legal affidavit signed by the UK Home Secretary and scrutinised by a lawyer of my choice promising not to put my arse back in prison.’
‘Well that’s as maybe, but it might have occurred to you that we will be going to a piece of occupied territory outside of both the United States and the United Kingdom where the rules are somewhat ill-defined. After all, that’s why those people were put there in the first instance. It might have suddenly occurred to you that your ass may be exposed, if I might be permitted to perhaps over-extend the metaphor.’
‘Oh, I understand,’ said Gerry.
‘Ok, so no hard feelings?’ Grainger asked with a smile.
‘No, none at all.’
‘Ok, good, so let me tell you about the release program…’
An hour later Annie drove her back to the hotel. They chatted inconsequentially about Florida and the weather and London which Annie had visited several times.
‘How long have you been working with Felix Grainger?’ Gerry asked as they arrived back at the hotel.
‘Oh, for a year now. He’s one of the good guys. I hope you liked him,’ she said. She pulled to a stop outside the hotel entrance.
The Gilgamesh Conspiracy Page 18