“OK.” Wasim moved into gear. “Let’s do this.”
The checkpoint came into view at the next bend in the road: four men, armed with sub-machine guns. Two of them were surveying the street and two leaning against the bonnet of the car that helped close the road. The light had not completely faded away, but Wasim had switched on the headlights as they had resumed their journey. His window was the only one down. He greeted the soldiers that slowly came his way. They looked around the inside of the car briefly as Wasim produced the letter embossed with The Treasurer’s seal.
“It’s late to be leaving Raqqa.”
“We need to reach our destination by morning, no other choice if we are to fulfil The Treasurer’s orders.”
One of the guards had moved to the other side of the car. Henry felt the Glock against the small of his back. He returned the soldier’s stare with irritation and impatience. The guard finished his inspection and chatted to the other man in a low voice. Wasim’s hands had turned white on the steering wheel. Henry could take the two men standing next to the car easily. It would be more difficult to deal with the two men at the gate.
The first guard leaned against the window and handed over the pass. He jerked his towards the gate that stood in their way. “Safe journey, may Allah protect you.”
“May Allah protect you too, brother.” Wasim eased the SUV toward the gate. One of the guards opened it. He drove away as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. A long exhalation came out of everyone in the car. It seemed they had all forgotten to breathe for a short moment.
* * *
They had been driving in silence for about three hours, each lost in their own thoughts, when Wasim turned off Route 3 into a side road that looked badly maintained. “We all ought to eat something, and I need to get the map out to decide on our best course across the rough terrain.”
Mattie and Henry had moved to the boot where food had been packed for the journey. Ali got out last. He did not know where he was and looked around for clues. Henry called him and his grumbling stomach told him he needed food. They ate quickly what had been brought out and spread on the car’s bonnet. No one spoke, focused on the food and the journey ahead.
The landscape was almost lunar. They had left behind the lush greens of Raqqa’s suburbs, and the fields that grew along the Euphrates river. Mattie walked a few paces away from the car towards a desert of flat stones and dust. She watched the other men and wondered who had decided to take Ali with them. She had not asked where they were going but her sense was that they were heading towards Iraq.
She understood.
Scrambling an SAS force to drop in the middle of Syria or Iraq required planning and a knowledge of the location they were targeting for the operation. They had to get nearer a base the UK or perhaps the Peshmerga operated from.
Basra was at least 1,000 miles away. Their best bet was with the Kurdish fighters. Mattie had written about the new women fighters of Kurdistan, fearless and hard as nails. She had been amazed by their determination and their ability to put their lives on the line. Each carried a hand grenade and when asked why they had said they would never be captured alive by IS.
Henry and Ali were speaking. The young man froze, stunned. He started shaking his head and Mattie could hear raised voices. She ran back towards the group. Wasim had joined Henry in trying to pacify Ali. The young man dropped to the ground and started sobbing.
“What on earth is going on?” Mattie had knelt next to Ali.
“We’re going to Mosul.” Henry’s voice was flat. He did not dare look Mattie in the eye.
Mattie’s throat tightened. She had been made to watch the scenes of the IS victory on TV and had been forced to close her eyes at some of the scenes. She had seen her fair share in her years as war correspondent but never so much gratuitous violence of that magnitude. “Why?”
“Because everyone is going to look for us going towards Aleppo.”
“But Aleppo is, what, five hours from Raqqa.”
“Then we have to make contact there and be extracted. Aleppo will be swarming with IS fighters and cells, factions fighting for and against Assad.” Henry’s face had regained its determination. That was not the right route.
“Mosul, no one will be looking for us there, and from there we make contact with the Kurds.”
Mattie tried to put a hand on Ali’s shoulder, but he edged away. He took the bottom of his black shirt and wiped his face with it.
Henry crouched down too. “It’s OK. You’ve seen some terrible things out there, but we have to contact people who can help us.” Henry had switched to Arabic.
Ali shook his head. “You know nothing…” he replied in English.
Wasim had taken his laptop out of his rucksack and laid it on top of the car bonnet. He tried to pick up a signal but there was nothing there, unsurprisingly. “We wish there could be an easier way,” he added.
Ali half turned his face towards him. He turned back around, Henry still crouching in front of him. He nodded slowly and stood up to meet Wasim’s eyes.
“Then,” Ali’s voice was still trembling and broken, “you need to know what to prepare for.”
Wasim walked back to the SUV and jumped into the driver’s seat. Henry and Mattie joined him. Ali looked around before getting in. In a few moments he would tell them all that he knew, and that effort would be heart wrenching.
Wasim had decided on a route… They would be avoiding main roads, concentrating on dirt tracks and rough terrain crossing. They had been driving over flat terrain for over an hour when the track started to steepen. Mattie recognised the typical bulk that formed part of the Iraqi landscape. Rocks carved into hills and crevices, dried by the unforgiving sun and eroded by the winds that blew all year round. The SUV started to shake one way, then the other, and the bumpy ride quickly became an odd rhythm. Wasim had slowed down almost to a walking pace. The vehicle kept sliding on the flat pebbles that the rock had broken into before they themselves turned into the grey dirt that pervaded everything. Everybody was silent, in an effort of concentration, willing the vehicle forward.
Mattie checked the clock on the dashboard. It was almost midnight. The sun would be rising again in five hours’ time. This did not leave them much time to ensure they reached Mosul by the morning. She was trying to remember the layout of Mosul when Wasim pulled hard on the brake and the car stopped abruptly.
The track ahead had turned into rubble. Wasim wound down the window and put his head out. They were close to a ridge. There was little room for him to open the door and he could not quite see where the drop was on the other side.
“I’ll go and take a look.” Henry pulled his rucksack onto his knees. “I can lead you with the torch until we’ve reached safer ground.”
Wasim nodded. Henry opened the door and moved a foot out to leave the car. He could not find solid ground and his body started to tilt sideways. He could feel the sucking effect of the void below. Two hands grabbed him and pulled him back in. The car slid sideways a little. “Move to the left.” Wasim shouted. Henry threw his weight towards him. The car stopped rocking and remained still.
Henry slid cautiously back into the seat and directed the beam of his torch onto the side of the vehicle. There was hardly any space between the wheel of the car and the sheer drop to the ravine below.
“I need to get to the other side.” Henry squeezed over Wasim and pushed his body out through the open window. The SUV started rocking again. Henry stopped when he was halfway out. When the rocking stopped, he moved out as slowly as he could. The road had narrowed dangerously. He directed the light towards the roadside. There would be just enough space for the car to move across the rubble. Henry walked up the slope and reached the top. The entire road was a mess of collapsed rocks and earth. He directed the light behind the car. They couldn’t turn back. This was going to take time. Time they did not have.
Chapt
er Thirty-Four
Henry’s mobile phone had not moved from the hotel. Amina checked the GPS location again. She did not yet want to think the worst. OMA had not reported any chat on the platforms IS used, nothing on WhatsApp or Facebook. James had been a real sport. He had brought back some Nando’s chicken from the restaurant underneath the Vauxhall arches and managed to find Caffe Italia after Amina had mentioned it was the best. It was about to close but he had begged for two large cups of the strong Italian brew.
James was reviewing all the data they had collected. There was nothing he could contribute… yet. “You say they are still going ahead with the exchange?” He had moved his chair away from his desk to come and sit next to Amina. “If Henry and Wasim have been compromised, it may be that we need to use Abu Maeraka as a bargaining chip,” James wondered.
“I made the point to Steve. Steve has made the point to Sir John. Sir John’s reluctant to speak to the Home Office. He’d rather not disclose MI6 has two operatives in Raqqa until absolutely necessary.”
James shook his head. “He worries about leaks.”
“And the Home Office wants the deal done, it seems.”
“Colmore MP is pushing?”
“Not so sure. There must be something else. Releasing Maeraka against a single hostage is not a good deal.”
Amina fell silent. Her forehead now bore a permanent crease that never softened.
“Henry is resourceful… the damned man conned everyone in the City, me included.”
“Yes, but you’re not IS are you?”
“Still, my feeling is that they have left Raqqa. Henry knows when to cut his losses. He went to get the data he was after back to London. If anybody can pull it off, he will.”
“And Wasim won’t be in touch until they are way out of that city… agreed.”
“Is there any other device they might have used that can give us their whereabouts?”
“Wasim had removed the hard drive from his laptop as he reached Raqqa. In case his laptop was investigated.”
“That was wise.” James nodded. “Has it got GPS?”
“Yes, but…” Amina thought things through. “You’ve got a point… Wasim would not have left it in his room. He would have carried it around with him at all times.”
Amina brought up the map of Raqqa. Wasim’s hard drive had roamed around an area of Raqqa that was suburbia, towards the north of the city. The tracking was showing the device coming and going over the same ground in loops and then moving to the edge of the city where one of the main exit roads lay.
James took over the mouse and clicked on the map again. He zoomed on the furthest point the hard drive had reached.
“They’ve left the city going north-east.”
Amina moved closer to her desk, eyes retracing the tracking lines of Wasim’s hard drive. How could she have missed it? The pattern became clear. Wasim was on reconnaissance, trying to establish the optimal way to leave Raqqa. He had started yesterday late and resumed his driving around in the morning.
“They’ve left already.” James’s eye glimmered with excitement. “Wasim’s left his phone behind as a decoy. They are on their way.”
Amina walked to the large digital map that stayed permanently projected on the office wall. “If they have left, they will seek to make contact asap. But they need to put some real distance between Raqqa and their contact location… also the cover can be patchy.”
“Agreed… or perhaps they are seeking contact not only with London but with other friendlies.”
“Two options. The Syrian rebels or the Kurds.” Amina traced the patches of territories that belonged to both groups.
“The Syrian rebels means Aleppo,” James’s voice trailed.
“That makes sense. They could reach Aleppo in four or five hours.”
“But they’ll encounter roadblocks, patrols and the entrance into Aleppo will be risky coming from the east.” James shook his head. “Why leave the city through the north-east in that case… it adds travelling time.”
“Another decoy?” Amina suggested. “Still it’s the obvious route and exactly where everyone is going to look for them.”
“Correct.”
“OK.” Amina ran her fingers along the digital map again. “If they want to reach the Kurdish army, they’ll go towards Iraq.”
“Which is what the tracking map of Wasim’s hard drive tells me.”
“Al-Hakasah is a possibility. Steve is working on this…”
James surveyed the map for a moment. “But a direct route between Raqqa and Al-Hasakah takes them through a large expanse of IS territory, and then territory that’s being fought over by Assad’s army and the rebels.”
“And they don’t know about Steve’s plan because he couldn’t connect with them in time,” Amina agreed.
“I’d go to Mosul.” James had stood up and moved over to the map as well.
“That’s crazy… you worry about IS territory and yet you think Mosul is safe for them.”
“It’s not about safety… It’s about improbability and doing what no one will expect them to do whilst achieving their goal.”
Amina looked puzzled. “OK. It’s improbable they may want to cross the desert and go to Mosul of all cities, granted.”
“And because the territory between Mosul and Raqqa has not been consolidated within IS territories yet. There is a large Kurdish community in Mosul. They’re more likely to find the right contact there.”
Amina made a face. “And the Kurdish territories extend right to the outskirts of Mosul.”
“Exactly.”
“We need to speak to Steve.”
James looked at the clock. It was gone 10pm.
Amina dialled Harris’s mobile. He picked up after the second ring. She placed the phone on loudspeaker and took him through what had been discussed.
Harris did not interrupt.
“We’ve just received information about the exchange.” Harris’s voice sounded tired.
“Still between Aleppo and Raqqa?” James moved closer to the phone to place his question.
“That’s right.”
“What’s your thinking?” Harris perked up at the thought that James might have a way to delay the exchange.
“Not sure. They can’t do this in the open. They know there will be a drone strike the minute Maeraka is released.”
“I’ve asked myself that.” Harris muffled a yawn.
“Then we don’t have the final location yet… They’ll change it at the last minute.”
James changed tack. “Does Maeraka know he’s coming out?”
“No way. No one wants him beating the jungle drum about his release at least until it’s done.”
“Perhaps, but if Maeraka knows he’s coming out and other people do too, then al-Baghdadi and his war council will find out that he knows. They will want the exchange to be a success.”
The phone went silent for a while.
“I doubt the Home Office is going to be willing.” Amina bent towards the phone.
“Who said he would go through the official channels?”
“We force their hand on Aleppo, this helps with our exchange too and it focuses them on the wrong city.” Harris loved it.
“Got to make some calls…” Harris killed the line.
“Now what?” Amina finished her coffee.
“We wait.”
* * *
The SUV was crawling along the track. Wasim had insisted Mattie and Ali leave the vehicle. Henry kept shining the torch to the right of it to help Wasim navigate the path. It was well past midnight and the sun would rise in four hours. Mattie and Ali had gone ahead equipped with their own torch. The worst was yet to come. A part of the track had crumbled away to such an extent that a couple of planks had been used to lay over the ravine. Henry stopped Wasim fr
om continuing. He went to check the makeshift bridge and tested the planks with the heel of his boot. The wood beneath stood firm. Still they looked perhaps strong enough for a small truck but may not withstand a large SUV.
“You’ll have to get over them as fast as you can…”
Wasim nodded and brought the SUV to the edge of the rubble. Part of the right hand wheel would hang over the side of the wooden structure. Henry moved a few yards ahead, giving Wasim enough room to accelerate. Wasim revved the engine. The SUV leapt forward with a sharp crunching noise. The planks started giving way under the weight of the vehicle and as the back wheels moved over them, they collapsed into the void. The wheels spun, sending rocks flying around and the SUV jumped over the large gash in the track. The sounds of falling debris reverberated from the ravine.
Henry ran to the bonnet and banged it with the flat of his hand. “Bloody well done!”
Wasim fell out of the car. He sat down on the track for a moment. Mattie and Ali shouted in relief.
Henry gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Shall I take over?”
Wasim nodded. “I’m done for the night.”
* * *
The track improved and it soon led them to a dual carriageway. They had reached Route 47, a direct line to Mosul. It was now gone 1am. Henry pushed the car’s speed to over 60 mph. They needed to make up time.
By 2am a few lights had materialised in the distance. They were approaching the border between Syria and Iraq. A checkpoint had been erected there.
IS or Iraqi forces?
Wasim took a Sig Sauer out of his backpack. Another gun had been left beneath his seat. Henry cast an eye towards the back of the vehicle, sliding the gun in his trousers’ waistband. Mattie’s face was hidden in the shadows of the dark windows. Ali moved forward, head between the seats.
“Is it IS?” Henry looked at him in the rear-view mirror.
“Yes.” Ali looked back at Henry. “Two days ago, when I came back, it was.”
“Let’s switch.”
Wasim nodded. It would be more credible to have a fluent Arabic speaker at the wheel. The switch happened in a flash and the SUV started moving forward at a good pace again. Ali had spoken little about Mosul. After his warning it seemed he did not want to recall what he had seen there.
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