‘Farishta, what about her?’ Habash asked.
‘She is not our concern,’ replied Steve curtly. ‘Leave her here.’
‘You cannot do that,’ said Yanny. ‘She is only a child.’
Steve looked at her. ‘The child of a barbaric Taliban warlord, should we care?’
‘We are not savages,’ she said indignantly. ‘They may behave that way up here, but the child of an evil man does not make her evil. I will ensure she is well cared for.’
‘Okay,’ Steve relented, ‘but we have a more immediate situation. We need those four crates. Habash, do you know where they are heading?’
‘I believe I know what they are planning.’
‘They, who are they?’
‘Rehmani and the person I held with the greatest respect. The person who saw me through the dark years after my parents were killed. I believe that I am now superfluous to their plans. They intended to leave me here on purpose.’
‘Let’s leave and bring the child,’ Steve said.
***
The return flight back into Fayzabad was a sombre affair. The intended retrieval of the crates had failed, and whereas they had Habash, there appeared to be others who could continue his work. Yanny sat sullenly in one corner glancing over towards Habash, who sat with his head buried between his knees. Farishta, Habash’s tribal bride, nervous and shaking sat close to Yanny, who attempted to console her. Nobody spoke other than the minimal necessary.
Upon arrival at the airport, Steve was soon on the phone to Ed Small. ‘Any updates?’
‘The helicopter we were tracking has landed in Kunduz, about one hundred and fifty kilometres to the west of your current location,’ Ed replied.
‘Is Rehmani still there?’
‘No, he transferred to a private jet. We instructed the German military to stop it leaving, but they said it was out of their mandate.’
‘Can’t we get the US military to force it down?’
‘With prior notice that may have been possible, but it headed straight north and crossed into Tajikistan airspace, only a five-minute flight. By the time we get all the permissions, it will be too late, and they won’t be too keen on doing it themselves. No idea if they’ve got an air force capable, anyway.’
‘Keep tracking the best you can,’ said Steve. ‘We’ve got some serious talking to do with our man Habash.’
‘What’s his general condition? Is he saying much?’
‘He’s gone native, beard and turban, the works. He’s also got a young girl of indeterminate age in tow. She looks ten or eleven, but I suppose she may be a bit older. Poor diet and malnutrition plus the savage winters up where we found them have probably stunted her growth. Apparently, she’s Rehmani’s daughter, and now Habash’s wife.’
‘Will she know where he’s gone?’
‘It’s not likely. She’s uneducated and, in this society, of little value. She would never have been taken into the confidence of her father.’
‘Habash, what’s he saying?’ asked Ed. ‘Anything of interest?’
‘He was talking plenty up in the village, but now he’s morose and sitting with his head in his hands. We need to get him out of here. Somewhere we can question him better.’
‘We’ve got some experts who could make him answer. Do you want me to line them up?’
‘Ed, that’s not the best approach at the present moment. It’s clear that he was left at the village on purpose. I’m surprised he wasn’t killed by Rehmani before they left.’
‘From what you told me, Rehmani just wanted to get out of there with the crates. He was more interested in saving his own neck than wringing Habash’s.’
‘You’re probably right,’ replied Steve. ‘He realises he has been duped by Rehmani and this guy he saw as his mentor.’
‘Mohammad Al-Rashid. He certainly fooled Mossad, and they’re not easily fooled.’
‘And he fooled Haberman – or Habash as he’s known here.’
‘Al-Rashid may have been genuine,’ said Ed, ‘but after so many deaths it may have unhinged him as well. These idealists, we’ve seen it before. They tend to rationalise, see it as Allah’s will, never their own damn stupidity. He’s not acting logically now. He could do anything.’
‘Does he know we’re after him?’ said Steve.
‘If he didn’t before, he will now after the encounter up at the village.’
‘So how will this affect Al-Rashid?’
‘He’s a dead man and he knows it. He’ll be looking for holy redemption.’
‘He could release the spray himself?’ Steve said.
‘Why not? If Mossad gets hold of him, he’ll be subjected to torture. Once that’s finished – and it could go on for several months – he’ll be summarily executed, with either a bullet to the brain or a rope around his neck.’
‘He’s got nothing to lose. We need to follow him. What about Rehmani? Do we know much about him?’
‘Only that he was a senior Taliban commander who’s apparently gone rogue.’
‘According to Habash, he was never a true believer. Rehmani’s out for what he can get, and anyone who gets in his way is for disposal.’
‘I’m not sure how much we can trust Habash,’ said Ed, ‘but he may be right in this case. Someone must have had the jihadists ready to commit martyrdom, and Rehmani would have been the best bet for that. No doubt he would have wanted to be paid well.’
‘We’ve got to follow the crates, as soon as we’ve delivered Habash somewhere secure. Is Israel a good location?’
‘Not a chance. As soon as Uri and his guys have him, they’ll start working on him. It’s best if he’s somewhere else. It may be best if you bring him to Washington. I’ll set him up in a cosy prison cell.’
‘That’s a bit far from the action,’ replied Steve. ‘Jordan, can you set up somewhere Uri won’t find?’
‘Leave it to me,’ said Ed.
Chapter 25
The Gulfstream jet that had flown Habash into Afghanistan some months earlier was now transporting Rehmani and his crates north into the former states of the defunct Soviet Union. He was concerned that he was still involved. Deliver the merchandise to the Arab, who had more money than sense and then, with a new passport, a new name and a new look, he had intended to disappear into Dubai.
‘Where are we heading?’ he demanded of the pilots.
‘We are avoiding the American military,’ responded Captain Bahjat Rifai. ‘If we head across Afghanistan, they’ll scramble, force us down or blow us out of the air.’
‘This is not what I agreed with the Sheik.’
‘It is of no concern to us at to what your agreement is. Do you want to die or would you prefer to live?’ Rifai asked.
‘Don’t get smart with me. Do you not know who I am? I have killed men for less insolence,’ the rogue Taliban responded with threats.
‘Yes, I am aware of who you are and what you are capable of. But up here, in this plane, I alone control the choice of life and death. It is well for you to remember this.’
Fifteen years in the Jordanian Air Force and a lifetime of experiences had quickly led Bahjat Rifai to judge the man sitting in luxury in the plane’s beautifully appointed cabin drinking copious quantities of the best Scotch whisky. Rifai was a man who took his religion with piety, a man who saw the best in people and a man who hoped that one day, peace may be possible in the Middle East. He had taken the charter as life was expensive and the Sheik was paying well.
He regretted that he had not been as diligent as he should have been. In the confines of the plane, leaning over him was a contemptible man giving orders and who, no doubt, would claim religion as his driving force.
The helicopter pilot had told Rifai how the man had cast his daughter out with no consideration as to whether she lived or died. Rifai had three daughters, and he loved them dearly. Anyone who could act in such a manner was not going to receive the courtesy of good manners from him.
‘Where are we heading?’ Rehma
ni demanded to know.
‘I have plotted a course for Azerbaijan. The Sheik will meet us there.’
‘That is satisfactory.’ Rehmani saw the wisdom of the Sheik in choosing a location remote enough from the immediate intervention of the Americans, yet civilised enough for him to affect the changes to his appearance and his name. He could also take a flight to Europe where he could access some cash. How long he would have to wait before retiring to a life of luxury and, hopefully, debauchery, uncertain.
Three hours later and safely on the ground, the Sheik, Mohammad Al-Rashid, approached Abdul Rehmani.
‘We meet at last,’ said the Sheik. ‘I would have said it is a pleasure, but I would be lying. These are not auspicious circumstances, and it would be foolish for us to pretend that we hold anything other than contempt for each other.’
‘I will respect your honesty in this matter,’ replied Rehmani. ‘You have followed Allah in your own way as I have.’
‘And now it will cost me my life. Millions have died, and I can only believe it to be his will. My sacrifice is a small price to pay.’
‘I have delivered you the crates. Have you transferred the money to my account?’
‘Yes, that has been done. What of Samir Habash? Did you dispose of him as we agreed?’
‘It was not possible. We were pinned down in the village. There was a sniper. He killed most of my men, some of the others had their throats cut. I was the only one who escaped.’
‘It is good that you did not lie.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Samir Habash is alive and with those who would stop us.’
‘Stop us?’ said Rehmani. ‘Surely you mean you? I have my money and my escape arranged.’
‘Do you think they will let you live? Do you think any of us will survive?’
‘Why would they concern themselves with me?’ The Taliban was a naïve man, whose arrogance failed to recognise the determination of his enemy. ‘I never released whatever is in those crates. I only assisted you with the martyrs you desired.’
‘If the Americans choose to leave you alone, do you think the Jews occupying Palestine are equally forgiving?’
‘The Israelis do not concern me. I will be as an Arab in an Arab country.’ Rehmani replied arrogantly.
‘You are as a big a fool as Habash. He chose to become involved with that woman, and you want to believe that the Israelis are incapable of finding you, wherever you may be. You may be derisive of the Jews, but they have held a piece of land for sixty years surrounded by people who would gladly kill them all. They didn’t achieve that by being forgiving and complacent. If you were on the moon, they would still find and kill you.’
‘They are Jews. Why should I fear them?’
‘It is because they are Jews. It would be best to bring the final plan to completion. Hopefully, we may be able to negotiate a deal for the Palestinians and santuary in a country of our choice.’ Al-Rashid realised there was no hope, but he was a smarter man than Rehmani. He hoped to convince him that his plan was their only hope.
‘Are you saying that we should work together?’ Rehmani asked.
‘I am saying that, if you want to live, you have no alternative.’ Mohammad Al-Rashid had found in Rehmani a possible solution. If it was Allah’s will that he should use this man, then so be it.
***
‘Samir, why did you think this would work?’ Yanny asked as he sat restrained in a corner of the plane on the runway at Fayzabad. She had resolved not to talk to him, but love was fickle and, as much as she tried, she could not keep away.
‘You don’t understand,’ he replied quietly.
‘What don’t I understand? I met a wonderful man in Jordan, a man I fell in love with. Why did you leave me there?’ She knew she was wrong to engage in a personal conversation and that Steve and the others would have been outraged if they had known.
They were all elsewhere, Steve on the phone to Ed, Phil and Harry catching up on some overdue sleep, a hot shower and a change of clothes. Fahim and Zouhair, no longer required were involved in preparing the helicopters for the flight back to Pakistan.
‘I didn’t want to, but the plan to help my people had been set in place a long time before. I couldn’t back out even if I wanted to.’
‘But why did you have so much hatred?’ She asked although she had been told the story before in Amman.
‘Yes, I had hatred, but with you, it seemed to abate. I would have asked you to marry me, but what could I offer? The die was cast. It could not be changed.’
‘If you had told me, I could have helped.’
‘Rehmani told me you were a fearless fighter, who had killed six men in close combat.’
‘That is true.’
Was that what you intended for me?’
‘If it had been necessary,’ she replied.
‘But you didn’t.’
‘It was information that we wanted from you. We needed to stop the madness and getting close to you seemed the best option. It was my decision to meet you, to seduce you if necessary. It seemed the only way we could get the truth of what you were planning.’
‘And the falling in love?’ he asked. ‘Was that intended too?’
‘No, that was unintentional.’ She paused for a moment. ‘It complicated the situation dramatically.’
‘It complicated the situation for me as well.’
‘Do you know what the Sheik may be planning?’ she asked.
‘Not precisely, but he would be a desperate man now.’
‘And desperate men commit desperate acts, is that what you are saying?’
‘Yes, I can understand what he must be thinking. The deaths, the millions, you know I never intended for that to happen. I knew there would be some in the Haredi settlement, but I thought that would have been acceptable if it achieved freedom for my people. If the Israeli government had capitulated and the Palestinian truck driver hadn’t infected the south of the country and the Gaza, then all would have been well. We could have been together.’
‘But it didn’t, and then, in desperation, you attacked America?’
‘That was the Sheik’s idea. He started to become irrational. Strike at the heart of the infidel – that’s what he would say. I saw that it made sense, but then he had been like a father to me. I always tended to see his point of view. If that woman had not gone to Africa, to that refugee camp, then no one would have died on that continent.’
‘You can never know that. You create a disease that no one can be protected against and then hope to control the deaths. That’s illogical.’
‘We tried to create a vaccine. My colleague suggested England. It seemed the ideal opportunity to help the Palestinians.’
‘Paul Montgomery?’ Yanny said.
‘Yes, Paul. I assume he’s in a lot of trouble. Taking it to England was against all the rules.’
‘He’s been helping us. At some stage, he will be held accountable. First, we need to stop the mess you started. He said it was your idea to take the virus to England.’
‘It was his, although he’s not a brave man. Maybe he’s trying to protect himself. I will help if I am given the opportunity.’
‘How can anyone trust you?’ she asked.
‘I don’t expect them to. But I understand how the Sheik thinks, better than anyone.’
‘No one’s going to listen to me, not after I slept with you,’ she said. ‘We better leave it until we arrive at our next destination.’
‘And where’s that?’ he asked.
‘It appears to be Azerbaijan.’
***
While Steve and Ed had been talking over the mobile phone network in the country instead of a satellite phone, the experts back in America had been tracking Al-Rashid’s jet. The American government’s plane that they intended to use in the pursuit of Rehmani and the crates had a finite range due to its fuel tanks being depleted on the flight into Fayzabad. They didn’t want to risk picking up aviation fuel in Afghanistan. A cl
ear destination was required before they left.
‘It’s on final approach into Baku, Azerbaijan, ten minutes to landing’ Ed said. ‘It’s time for you to depart.’ Steve was concerned that they were close to three hours behind, but there had been no option. If Al Rashid’s jet had flown north for several hours and then back-tracked as a diversionary tactic, he and the team would have possibly been placed in a difficult situation. Obtaining fuel in a country where the relationship with the West was fractious was not always easy.
Immediately on confirmation, Steve hung up the phone and moved to the aircraft. There still remained some issues to deal with before they left and they didn’t have much time. Quickly he contacted Phil and Harry and Bob Smith. All three were out to the airfield within ten minutes.
‘What about Habash?’ Steve asked as they stood outside the plane.
‘We take him with us,’ Yanny said. ‘He says he can help.’
‘I hope you’re not getting emotional again.’
‘I’m not. The Sheik’s plans are unknown to us. Samir may be stringing us along, offering to help, but we can keep him restrained. We can’t leave him here. Or do you have a better idea?’
‘Phil, Harry, make sure he’s restrained. We can’t risk him getting free.’
‘What about the girl?’ Yanny asked.
‘We’re not taking her,’ Steve said.
‘I didn’t suggest that at all.’
‘She can stay here with me,’ said Bob. ‘She has a pleasant manner. I’m sure we can find a place for her at the medical centre in Kabul. It may not be too late to give her a rudimentary education.’
‘She’s the daughter of a Taliban commander,’ said Steve. ‘Won’t that cause a problem?’
‘Why? As far as anyone is concerned, she’s the orphaned child of a family that perished in a snowstorm in the Hindu Kush. She’ll be fine.’
‘Agreed,’ said Steve. ‘Let’s get airborne.’
The jet supplied courtesy of the CIA was not as luxurious as Rehmani’s had been, but it was adequate and comfortable. Airborne and no with no firm plans, the focus turned to Habash.
Terrorist: Three Book Boxed Set Page 30