Khaled snarled in triumph as he turned to look at Gearie, realising that the officer had finally revealed himself.
‘He’s going to do it!’ shouted Martin. ‘Shoot the fucker now!’
Jacko took two steps forward, putting himself between Khaled and his hostage and the rest of the soldiers. Jacko spread out his arms, making himself as big a target as he could so that he would absorb the bulk of the blast and its deadly shrapnel and shield the rest of the men.
Shepherd knew that he had to take the shot now. He said a silent prayer for Martin but as he did Martin began to turn his head. Shepherd relaxed his trigger finger. Martin’s head kept turning and he locked eyes with Shepherd. Then he smiled as if he knew what was coming. The turn of his head gave Shepherd an inch or two of Khaled’s skull to aim at but it wasn’t enough.
‘You are in charge?’ Khaled shouted at Gearie. Jacko took another step forward, his arms still stretched out to the sides. He was now just six feet from Khaled and Martin.
Shepherd’s eyes were still locked on Martin’s. Martin’s eyes narrowed and the smile had become fixed as if he had already accepted his own death. Shepherd stared at the man hard, willing him to understand, and flicked his head, to the left. And again. Praying that Martin would understand.
He aimed through the sights, took a breath, steadied himself and tightened his finger on the trigger. He aimed at Martin’s head, praying that the American had understood and knowing that even if he didn’t he was still going to make the shot.
His finger eased the trigger back. He was totally motionless and every fibre of his being focused on the shot. That was when Martin moved, dropping his head forward and down at the exact moment the carbine fired.
Khaled’s head blew apart in a shower of red and his body slumped to the ground. Troopers rushed forward, some to grab Martin, others to make the suicide vest safe.
Shepherd lowered the carbine and stepped out of the tunnel. Jacko was still standing with his arms outstretched, his face and chest splattered with Khaled’s blood.
There were cheers from several of the troopers when they saw who had made the shot.
As Shepherd walked over to Captain Gearie, he was slapped on the back and punched on the arm and congratulated by pretty much everyone there.
‘Fuck me, Spider, you were cutting that close,’ said Gearie.
‘Yeah, sorry about that, but, you know, Martin being in the way and all.’
They went over to Khaled’s body. One of the troopers had pulled out the detonators from the packs of explosive. Martin joined them.
‘That’s him, right?’ said Gearie, looking over at Martin. ‘That’s definitely Khaled?’ he asked him again.
Martin wiped away blood that had splattered across his face and hair. ‘Hard to tell now that Spider’s blown half his skull away,’ he said. He grinned at the way the captain’s face fell. ‘Joke,’ said Martin. ‘It’s him. No doubt.’
One of the SAS troopers photographed the body while another knelt down with a LiveScan reader and took a copy of Khaled’s fingerprints.
‘We should take the vest back with us, minus the explosives,’ said Shepherd. ‘The forensic guys will learn a lot from it.’
Gearie nodded and told one of the troopers to remove the vest from Khaled’s body.
‘How many of the dead have you identified?’ Gearie asked Shepherd.
‘Three so far. I was about halfway through when we were so rudely interrupted. I did the barracks area, the main cave and the side cave where the ammunition is.’
Gearie looked at his watch. ‘We need to be out of here in the next twenty minutes or so.’
‘I’m on it,’ said Shepherd.
Jacko came up behind him and looked down at Khaled’s body, the head a broken mess of skull, brain matter and blood. The sergeant glanced at Shepherd and grinned. ‘I think I’ll forgive you for being a smart arse, Spider.’
Shepherd grinned back at the sergeant. ‘You’re welcome.’
Chapter 82
Present Day, London
S hepherd climbed out of the Jaguar and slammed the door shut. He looked up at his apartment block as the car drove off, and smiled. He was dog-tired and glad to be back home. All he needed now was a good meal, and a long sleep.
It had taken the best part of forty-eight hours to get from the cave complex back to London. A two-mile walk from the caves with every man loaded up with equipment and paperwork, followed by a ninety-minute bone-jarring ride on the DPV, then a Chinook flight to Bagram Airbase, where there was a twelve-hour wait for a Hercules, which took him to Cyprus, Gibraltar and eventually to RAF Brize Norton, some sixty-five miles west of London. Dean Martin had left the plane at Cyprus. Two men in bomber jackets and jeans were there to meet him and take him over to a waiting Gulfstream jet. They didn’t look military or even former military and the plane had civilian markings, so Shepherd assumed the flight back to Bali had been arranged by Charlotte Button.
A military helicopter was waiting to fly Shepherd into central London, where he was whisked away in a Jaguar with darkened windows to Thames House for a debriefing that took the best part of two hours. Patsy Ellis had a quick chat with him once he arrived. A handshake, a warm smile and a promise that he would be back on operational duties as soon as she had dealt with the paperwork.
‘Everything Charlie ever said about you is true,’ she had said, and while that could have been taken several ways he was left in no doubt that she meant it as a compliment.
The debriefing had taken place in a conference room overlooking Lambeth Bridge with a polished walnut table that sat twenty-four. Every seat was occupied, with extra chairs drafted in for another dozen. MI6 had sent along four grey-haired men in Savile Row suits and another three whose casual clothing and longer hair identified them as analysts rather than officers. The Met were also represented; they had sent half a dozen members of SO15, all of whom he recognised, and there were seven army officers in full uniform, ranging from two majors up to a three-star major general. The military men kept to themselves at the far end of the room and while Shepherd spoke and answered questions, the two majors took notes on iPads while the higher ranks stared impassively ahead. Shepherd got the distinct impression that they resented the fact that the SAS had been tasked with eliminating Khaled and the other jihadists. A lot of regular army officers felt the word ‘Special’ in Special Forces implied that the regular army was somehow less important, resented it and behaved accordingly. Shepherd simply ignored them.
The debriefing had started with a short speech from Ellis, basically thanking the SAS in their absence for a job well done. There was no one from the regiment at the debrief, they had all headed back to Hereford from Brize Norton. Two SAS Head Sheds had been waiting at Cyprus and they took Captains Gearie and Harrison off for a chat but expressed no interest in talking to either Shepherd or Martin, which suited them just fine.
Ellis had arranged to show the US satellite feed of the attack, though all that could be seen was greenish figures disappearing into the black hole of the cave mouth. A projector had been fixed up to a laptop that was being monitored by an earnest young woman in a dark blue suit, who when given the nod by Ellis started flashing up photographs of the home-grown jihadists who had been killed in the attack. There were cheers from some of the younger members of the audience but they died down when Ellis flashed them an icy look. Shepherd had identified seven as being on MI5’s watch list at the scene and fingerprints and DNA samples had been taken and brought back to London for confirmation. The tests hadn’t yet been completed but Shepherd’s near-faultless memory meant that the ID wasn’t in question. Three of the young men were from Bradford, one from Birmingham, one from Leeds and two from London. All had been out of the country for at least three months and had been spotted in Syria fighting for ISIS.
‘There’s no doubt that each and every one of these men were being trained to carry out terrorist atrocities here in the UK and that what our people did out there in Afg
hanistan saved countless lives,’ said Ellis. ‘We also had spectacular success on the intel front. We seized laptops, phones, sat phones and paperwork that will be a goldmine for our analysts. We believe that we have in our possession the computer that Hakeem Khaled used and once we have cracked the password and encryption we believe it will help us identify the sleepers that he has been in contact with in the UK. It is currently being discussed in Cabinet what action we should take once they have been identified. Obviously my hope is that action won’t involve trials and prison sentences. But we shall see.’
There were knowing chuckles from around the room and this time Ellis did not try to silence them. Everyone knew what she meant: there was no point in sending trained jihadists to prison for a year or two, all that did was harden their resolve. Far better to use the SAS or the Pool.
Shepherd sat back and listened to Ellis as she went on to outline MI5’s strategy over the coming months and how that would impact on MI6, the military and the police. He knew exactly what Ellis was doing: she was making sure that everyone appreciated what a success the operation had been and that the credit belonged to MI5. Yes, the SAS had done the hard work, but it had all been based on intel provided by MI5 and Ellis wanted to make sure that everyone understood and appreciated the fact. Once she had finished she offered those present the chance to ask questions and for half an hour Shepherd was gently interrogated, with those who didn’t know him being especially interested in how his eidetic memory functioned. The general had several questions about what actually happened inside the cave but Ellis cut him short each time, explaining that the SAS didn’t want operational tactics revealed but that she was sure the regiment would arrange a private briefing for him down the line.
Once the debriefing was over, Shepherd was ushered out of the building to the waiting Jaguar. And that was that. Job done.
He groped in his pocket for his door key.
‘So all’s well that ends well,’ said a voice behind him, jolting him out of his reverie, and Shepherd whirled around to see Charlotte Button standing with a sly smile on her face.
‘How the hell did you creep up on me like that?’ said Shepherd.
Her smile widened. ‘Give me some credit for my years with Five,’ she said. ‘I did pick up the odd bit of tradecraft. How did it go?’
‘The mission? The flight? The debriefing?’
‘All of the above.’
‘The mission was a complete success. The flight was a pain in the arse. Ditto the debriefing.’
‘Patsy just wanted her moment of glory,’ said Button. ‘She wants it known by all and sundry that it was driven by Five.’
Shepherd flashed her a tight smile. ‘Presumably so that no one will think to look too closely at what happened to Ali Naveed, Israr Farooqi and Imran Masood and his family.’
‘It was a spectacular success, Dan. We took out the terrorist responsible for killing dozens and maiming hundreds in London and killing God-knows how many others in the past. We took out seven British-born jihadists who would have caused untold havoc when they got back. Plus we killed close to a hundred ISIS fighters and snapped up a plethora of intelligence that will set them back years.’
Shepherd grinned. ‘You keep saying “we”, Charlie.’
She shrugged. ‘I like to think I played a small part in it, yes. But I won’t be getting a medal. Unlike Captain Gearie, who I hear on the grapevine might be getting put up for a Military Cross or perhaps even a DSO.’
‘You are joking,’ said Shepherd. The Distinguished Service Order was second only to the Victoria Cross as an award for bravery during a military operation. ‘Please tell me you are joking.’
‘It was a success and credit where credit is due. Captain Gearie was in charge of the operation.’
‘Right up until the point where Khaled was going to blow them all to Kingdom Come with one of his suicide vests.’
‘Well, you have a point, but that was resolved and there were no casualties on our side so we come out of it as clear winners in the fight against terrorism.’
‘And Gearie gets his medal even though I saved his life?’
Button grinned. ‘But you were never there,’ she said. ‘And nor was Dean Martin.’
‘Funny that.’
‘It has to be that way, and you know it. Explaining Martin’s involvement would open up a whole can of worms that is best left unopened.’
‘I suppose so.’ He shrugged. ‘I was never a fan of medals, anyway. They need too much polishing. So what’s going to happen regarding Dean?’
‘He’s back in Bali and he tells me he’s going to stay under the radar. Says he’s happy being a diving instructor but we’ll see how long he feels that way once he gets his share of the reward money.’
‘Reward money?’ repeated Shepherd.
‘Didn’t I mention that? The Americans had a ten-million-dollar bounty on Khaled’s head.’
‘That would be the head that I blew apart, right?’
She chuckled. ‘But you were never there.’
‘The money would have been nice, Charlie.’
‘You’re a civil servant carrying out his civil servant duties, so you wouldn’t be eligible anyway,’ said Button. ‘But I’m very much in the private sector these days, as you know, so the Americans are quite happy to pay me and I’ll be splitting it with Mr Martin.’
‘So Dean gets five million dollars? Nice.’
‘I said I was splitting it with him, I didn’t say he was getting half. I had expenses. A lot of expenses. He’ll be getting a million dollars and good luck to him. And you, you get what you’ve always wanted, a return to active operations.’
‘You’ve spoken to Ellis?’
‘Of course. Patsy and I have no secrets. She’s very grateful to you. We both are. The operation couldn’t have been more successful. You took out one of the world’s most prolific terrorists, and you nailed home-grown jihadists who would have been back here before too long.’
‘Go me,’ said Shepherd.
‘Indeed. And now MI5 will start using you the way you should be used. Your desk days are behind you.’
‘I hope so.’
‘You have Patsy’s word on that. Just be careful what you wish for.’
Shepherd frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your love for the adrenaline rush could be the death of you one day. Just be careful.’
‘I’m always careful.’
‘Yes, and you’re lucky. But one day your luck might run out. You’ve got a son and a girlfriend. It can’t be easy for them when you put your life on the line.’
Shepherd laughed. ‘This from the woman who was instrumental in sending me to a bloody war zone.’
Button smiled. ‘You’re right, of course. Listen to me pontificating about how you should live your life and yes, I had no qualms about putting you in harm’s way.’ She reached out and touched his arm. ‘My heart was in my mouth all the time you were out there. I would really miss you, if anything ever happened to you.’
‘I’d miss you too, Charlie.’
She took her hand away. ‘I’m being serious.’
He could see from her eyes that his flippancy had offended her so he stepped forward and hugged her, then planted a light kiss on her cheek. ‘I’d miss you, too, Charlie. You’re devious and cunning and sometimes you take risks that you shouldn’t but the world would be a much more boring place without you.’ He released his grip on her and grinned as she blushed and rearranged her hair. ‘Now, next time phone, don’t come up behind me like that. I might be carrying a gun.’
She laughed. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ She turned and walked away.
Shepherd watched her go for a few seconds and then went inside the apartment block. He rode up in the lift and let himself into the flat. He called out for Katra but there was no reply. He took his bag into the sitting room and saw her standing by the window.
‘Who was that?’ she asked.
He dropped his bag on the floor and
went over to her. ‘What do you mean?’ He tried to put his arms around her but she flinched and moved away.
‘That woman, outside. You were talking to her.’
Shepherd realised she had seen him with Button through the window. He laughed and reached for her again and this time she let him hold her. ‘That was work,’ he said.
‘It didn’t look like work,’ he said. ‘And since when do you meet people from work in the street?’
‘You’d be surprised how often that happens,’ he said. ‘That was Charlie Button, my old boss. She left MI5 under a cloud so she can’t come around to my office.’
‘What did she want?’
‘It’s complicated.’
She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away. ‘I’m not stupid, Dan.’
‘I never said you were. It’s just that most of what I do is covered by the Official Secrets Act, you know that. I’m not even supposed to tell you where I’ve been.’
‘But I’m your girlfriend!’
‘Friends, family, it makes no difference.’ He pretended to look around and lowered his voice. ‘But I can tell you I was in Afghanistan, okay? But you mustn’t tell anyone.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Was it dangerous?’
Shepherd shook his head. ‘No, I was there in an advisory capacity. And the job’s done now so I can spend some time with you.’
Her face brightened. Then just as quickly she frowned. ‘You kissed her.’
Shepherd laughed. ‘A peck on the cheek. Katra, I swear, there’s nothing there you have to worry about?’
‘Cross your heart?’
He laughed again and made a play of drawing a cross on his chest. ‘I swear. She’s a work colleague, that’s all.’
‘Not a friend?’
It was a good question and Shepherd wasn’t immediately sure how to answer it. Shepherd had worked for Button, and alongside her, but he had always felt that there had been more to the relationship than just work. But friendship implied trust and the simple fact was that he didn’t think he could ever trust her, not one hundred per cent. He smiled and shook his head slowly. ‘No, she’s not a friend.’
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