by J J Cooper
Primrose came into his view and crouched beside Bowen's body. He tilted his head toward Jay and raised his hand high.
He sunk the knife deep into Bowen's chest.
TWENTY-FOUR
Jay remembered Primrose driving the blade into Bowen's corpse. He later figured he had gone into shock then and couldn't recall the military police arresting him and leading him out of the Centre.
He lay on the floor of the caged military police van, staring at the ceiling. Red and blue lights flashed in and out of his peripheral vision. His training sent thoughts of escape to his tired head. He brushed them aside and tried to concentrate on sleep. But his mind was active and compulsively raked over the sequence of events that had ultimately brought him to this.
2215h December 7, 2002. Jay had been on standby with the SASR snatch-and-grab team for three days at a forward operating base in Jordan. The mission called for the SASR team to insert into the Western Desert of Iraq and pick up a high-profile target, Farouk Mustafa al-Tikriti, Iraqi Intelligence Chief, also known as 'the general'.
'Green light, Jay,' the American base intelligence commander said. 'Human intelligence reporting just came through with the goods again. The general has just entered Al Asad airfield. You've got the green light from Central Command.'
'Our boys been told?' Jay said, referring to the SASR snatch-and-grab team.
'Done. They'll be inserted by Blackhawks within the hour.'
Jay nodded and grabbed the tear-line version of the report. This sanitised version protected the source of information. There wasn't much information left in the report: number of vehicles in the convoy, time of arrival by the target and location as at the reporting time. Jay grinned as he read it. It was all the SASR team needed to know. He had already given the team detailed briefs on the general, including pictures of him, background, number of bodyguards, likely weaknesses in his security, and likely reactions to the snatch-and-grab.
The interrogation room had been prepared over the last two days. It was an old shower block at the end of a disused hangar. It provided enough security and seclusion for Jay. He checked it again to be sure it was adequate for his needs and moved to the Communication Centre to listen to the mission via the secure network.
The snatch-and-grab team deployed at 2300h. Jay sat for three hours listening to updates of the well-executed mission. He didn't take notes; there was no need. An already sharp memory had been honed under combat conditions. He was in peak physical and mental condition. He listened and prepared for the most important interrogation of his life. An interrogation that, at its completion, would define him as a soldier, and as a man.
The snatch-and-grab mission had been completed and the prisoner brought in by 0200h.
Two guards assigned to Jay searched the general. It was probably the third or fourth time he'd been searched since his capture. The SASR and Jay were thorough. They didn't want, or need, any surprises. Jay hit record on his video camcorder and observed the general for reactions to the search; there was nothing out of the ordinary. The general still wore blacked-out goggles and earmuffs for the purpose of sensory deprivation. He didn't oppose the search, and judging by the drop in his shoulders Jay could tell he wasn't a fighter. This one small snippet led him to believe that the general would talk.
At the completion of the search, the guards placed the general on a metal chair directly in front of Jay. One of the guards left the room while the second, after a nod from Jay, removed the earmuffs and goggles. The second guard then left the room and closed the door behind him.
Jay let the general adjust his eyes to the light and look around the room. There was no need to hurry, all prisoners expect to be yelled at and to be dealt the harsh interrogation method. Jay liked the 'dislocation of expectations' method of interrogating. The softer, conversational approach worked more times than not.
The general spoke first, in English. 'Where am I, please?'
Jay smiled. 'I'm glad you speak English. Of course, I already knew that. And a man of your intelligence and standing within the Iraqi government would understand that I have a job to do.'
The general gave a short nod.
'My requests are simple. By now your government, including your current leader, will know you are missing. Of course, there will be reports that you were kidnapped by foreign soldiers. Your leader will make enquiries and phone neighbouring countries. But he will not find you. He will not find out which country you are in.'
'Saudi Arabia.' The general sounded like he was on a quiz show and had to answer first.
'It really doesn't matter. The only thing of importance in your life now is me. There is no turning back. You know that your current leader will execute you if you return, thinking you're a spy. It doesn't matter to him that you have a family. Am I right?'
Another nod, this time longer. 'What do you propose ... I am sorry, I do not know your name?'
'My name is of no concern. What I propose is far more important.' Jay paused to let the general consider his remark. 'I am going to ask you some questions relating to your country's weapons program. A topic that you are very familiar with, being the intelligence chief. I trust we can come to an arrangement where you will be honest with me and I will not keep you any longer than is necessary.'
The general moved his head from side to side like a boxer warming up his neck muscles. 'What about my family? I want them out of Iraq.'
'I doubt that they will miss you too much.'
'I want them to accompany me on my journey.'
'Which ones?'
The general tilted his head. 'What is it you mean?'
'Which family would you prefer to accompany you? At last count, you had no less than fifteen mistresses in Iraq, three in Jordan, and I can assume several in Syria. And that's not mentioning the good times you have had in France, Germany and Russia. You certainly get around. I have no idea how many children you have.'
The last comment raised a smile beneath the thick moustache. 'Twenty-seven.'
'That's amazing. I have two myself. Both under seven,' Jay lied.
This time the general's smile didn't seem as authentic. 'I understand that I will never see my children again. I have been prepared for this occasion. I made my decision a long time ago.' The general shifted in his chair and sighed. 'What do you want to know?'
Jay had a hard time hiding his shock. He had prepared for a subject who didn't want to cooperate, even organising shifts for his guards. Fortunately, he quickly recognised the opportunity to gain valuable information and adapted his plan. It became a debrief interview. 'Describe to me the details involving the movement of Weapons of Mass Destruction or chemicals from Iraq to another country.'
The general nodded and started talking. He commenced by providing detailed information regarding the movement of chemical munitions and materials via Iraqi Airways to Jordan. He explained that civilian planes had been converted to cargo planes. The Iraqi Special Republican Guard brigades loaded the cargo onto the planes and over twenty flights were made during November 2002. Jay noted the timings and movements that the general could remember. The video tape would be used to clarify minor details when he wrote his report.
Jay allowed the general to talk for over twenty minutes without interruption. His silence and the occasional furrowing of his brow forced the general to clarify his information where necessary. After concluding that he had passed on all the information he knew, the general asked what would happen to him.
'We'll get to that later. You understand that I will need you to go over this information again. I do not doubt you are telling the truth. I just need to ensure that I have all the information.' Jay crinkled his brow and tilted his head slightly. 'Something you haven't mentioned yet. Who from the Jordanian side organised the shipments?'
'I may not have been clear in my explanations. The chemicals went from Iraq to Jordan, but it was not arranged by Amman. Everything was done by Mossad. Israel purchased the goods at considerable expense.'
Jay almost fell off his chair. 'You expect me to believe that the Jordanian king allowed Israel to smuggle chemical weapons from Iraq through his border?'
'Strange arrangement, I know. Money speaks loudly in Jordan.'
Before Jay could ask a clarifying question, two men burst into the room flashing badges and demanding a halt to the interrogation. Jay called the guards into the room and left with the men for a spirited debate. They didn't mention what agency they represented, just 'other government agency'. Jay knew OGA meant CIA. The debate got so heated that at one stage some of the SASR troops came across and offered Jay assistance in getting rid of them. The OGA men got the hint and scurried away.
After re-entering the interrogation room, it became obvious to Jay that the momentum had been lost, and the general refused to say anything more.
Jay left the general under guard and searched for the base commander. Before reaching his destination, the American second-in-command cut him off and read Jay the riot act. Jay flipped him off and decided that the SASR commander would be the better person with whom to talk. By the time he got back to the interrogation room the general had disappeared with the OGA men. The SASR commander had to calm Jay down and told him to forget about the general.
As per his orders, Jay fired off the interrogation report to the Australian Chief of Defence. Apart from an electronic acknowledgement of the document's receipt, he didn't hear any more about the interrogation. He let it go and chalked it up to experience. As an insurance policy, he burnt a copy of the video recording to CD-ROM and erased it from tape. He labelled the CD 'Best Ever Beer-Drinking Songs' and kept it with his other CDs. He then transferred it to a safe deposit box in a bank upon his return from Iraq.
The sound of a familiar female voice snapped Jay from his reverie. He rubbed his eyes, sat up and peered through the bars of the van.
TWENTY-FIVE
'Agent Jacobson from the Australian Federal Police. Who's in charge here?' Sarah addressed the military police corporal.
'That would be Major Sergeant, ma'am.'
'Pardon?'
'Major Sergeant is in charge, ma'am.'
'Rather unfortunate name, don't you think?'
'Umm ... we don't poke fun at Major Sergeant's name, ma'am.'
'Why not? It's piss funny. Where is this major with the funny name, Corporal?'
'He's inside at the crime scene, ma'am. But you can't go down there.'
'Why not, Corporal? I just showed you my badge. I can go anywhere I damn please.'
'Not down there, ma'am. I've got direct orders. I can't even go down there. Shit, we didn't even know that place existed until about an hour ago. Umm, ma'am.'
'OK, Corporal. You better start explaining what happened in there, then.'
'Umm . . .'
'Listen. You see that old guy over there by my car? The one in the suit, chewing the cigar?'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'He is the District Field Officer in charge of South-East Queensland Operations Special Coordination Branch. You heard of that branch?'
'No, ma'am.'
'Good. You're not supposed to know that it exists. In fact, I probably violated departmental protocols by telling you about it. Anyway, if I don't go back and tell him what's going on pronto he'll have my badge. And if he takes my badge, I can't feed my kid. Now, you don't want to be the one responsible for not feeding my kid, do you?'
'Umm . . . no, ma'am.'
'Good. What the hell happened here?'
'OK, ma'am. Please don't tell Major Sergeant that I told you though.'
'Your secret's safe with me.'
The corporal looked around as though he were checking to make sure nobody was listening in, obviously forgetting Jay was in the van. 'The local security guys responded to an alarm. When they got here, a woman in handcuffs was roaming the building. Looked like she'd been beaten up. She told the guards she'd been kidnapped and brought here. She alleged that she had been raped by this same person some weeks ago and assumed that he was going to do it again. She said that when they got here a Major Bowen was waiting for them in the secret interrogation room.'
'I see. That must have been terrifying for her. Where is she now?'
'Ambulance took her to the base hospital.'
Sarah nodded. 'OK, good. I'll speak with her after her medical examination. What else?'
'It is alleged the kidnapper repeatedly stabbed Major Bowen. While this was happening, the woman managed to get out of the room and lock the door behind her. When we came, Major Sergeant went down there, arrested him and brought him up here. We've called the local police and they're on their way.'
'That's why we're here, Corporal. We've got jurisdiction because the crime occurred on federal property. Who is the prisoner?'
'He hasn't spoken a word but the victim identified him as Sergeant Jay Ryan. Apparently he is some big-shot military interrogator – well that's what Major Sergeant said.'
'Where is the suspect now?'
'Umm . . . right behind me, ma'am.'
Jay could see Sarah and the corporal looking across at him. Sarah winked.
Sarah took out her mobile phone. 'OK, Corporal, take the prisoner and place him in the back of my car.'
'Umm . . . I'll have to wait for orders from Major Sergeant, ma'am.'
'Don't worry, I'll clear it. Even though it's just gone daybreak, I'm going to call the Chief of the Defence Force.'
'You know the Chief of the Defence Force, ma'am?'
Sarah started pressing buttons on her phone. 'He's my uncle. Now hurry up and move the prisoner before the District Field Officer in charge of South-East Queensland Operations Special Coordination Branch gets pissed off.'
The corporal appeared to hesitate for a moment before moving to the back of the van. He unlatched the door and waved a hand at Jay, indicating for him to move out. Jay edged forward on his backside until his feet dangled out the back. With one last slide, he pushed out and landed beside the corporal. He looked at Sarah. She was on the phone, having an animated conversation. Jay guessed there was nobody on the other end of the line. The corporal closed the back of the van and nudged Jay toward Bill's two-door Monaro. Jay marvelled at the stupidity of the corporal. No agency could afford a car like that.
Bill opened the front passenger door and moved the seat forward. The corporal pushed Jay through the narrow gap. Bill remained quiet as Jay watched Sarah and the corporal in conversation. Their interaction concluded with the corporal handing Sarah something and she walked back to the Monaro.
Sarah got into the driver's seat at the same time as a military policeman walked out of the Centre. She started the car and did a u-turn. Jay looked back to see an animated discussion between the two military policemen. They stopped and looked toward Jay. In an instant, both raced toward their van.
'You might want to get this beast moving, Sarah,' Jay said.
Sarah floored the accelerator, ignored the camp's strict speed restrictions and raced Bill's car out of the barracks and onto the main road.
With each corner through the hinterland's coiled streets, Jay slid across the leather backseat, hands still cuffed. 'Shit,' he said. 'Did that meathead give you the keys to these cuffs?'
Sarah handed the key to Bill, who unlocked the handcuffs.
'How you feeling, boy?' Bill asked.
'How the hell do I look?'
Bill raised his eyebrows and turned back in his seat as Sarah glided the Monaro at speed through a tightly cut overpass. They headed down the other side and Jay's stomach flipped as though he were on a rollercoaster. The high-performance car responded well to the conditions and handled the narrow roads effortlessly under Sarah's guidance.
Sarah glared at Jay through the rearview mirror. 'You're welcome,' she said, matching his attitude.
'Yeah, sorry guys,' he said, losing the edge in his voice. 'That was a nightmare.'
'What's going on?' Sarah asked.
Jay was more than impressed by Sarah's handling of the powerful Monaro. An
d he felt safe enough at the high speed she was driving. He stretched out across the backseat, removed his jacket and divulged to Sarah and Bill the horror he'd witnessed at the Centre and the coded message from his father. 'And that's when I heard your voice,' Jay concluded, rubbing the side of his head where it had hit the cement. 'Shit, that hurts.'
'I think we lost those fools,' Bill remarked as they hit the highway to Brisbane.
Jay watched the rearview mirror, waiting for Sarah to speak, and yet she said nothing. He'd just told her that his boss was dead and he'd been framed; and still she said nothing, not even 'I'm glad you're OK'. He'd surprised himself with how happy he was to see her again. But it seemed she was indifferent to him. 'Cat got your tongue, Agent?' he asked.
Sarah glared into the rearview mirror. 'We've got some re-grouping to do to figure out where we go from here,' she said. 'I need more time to think about the message from your father. You sure you got it right?'
'Yeah.' Jay didn't want to have to analyse it again just yet. He didn't have the energy for an argument with Sarah. 'Where are we headed?' he asked.
'I figure we should get a hotel in the city. Easier to blend in and hide the car.'
'Monaro,' Bill said.
'Hide the Monaro,' she said.
'You're worried about the name of a car when I'm wanted for rape and murder?'
'It's a Monaro,' Bill said.
'Whatever. Did you hear what I said?'
'I heard. Just saying it's a Monaro.'
'OK you two,' Sarah said. 'It's a fucking Monaro and it drives like a dream, which you would know if you had a licence, Bill.'
'You're kidding me?' Jay asked.
'Just because I have a nice car, doesn't mean I have to drive it,' Bill said.
Jay shook his head and changed the subject. 'What happened to you, Sarah?' he asked. 'I tried ringing to tell you I was headed for Canungra.'
'Yeah, sorry about that. I ran into a little bit of trouble.'
Bill snickered.
Jay leaned forward between the front seats. 'What kind of trouble?'