by Jack Higgins
It s true, Wali Hussein said. Just leave me out of it, and he turned, moved away to the back, and disappeared into the kitchen area.
Ferguson and Miller had their heads together with Dillon and Hamza, and Holley approached Sara. Are you all right?
I was impressed with what Slay had to say. I could do with another cup of coffee. Let s see what Hamid s got going in the kitchen.
There was no sign of him, only a pot bubbling on the electric stove. She switched it off and was suddenly aware of a low voice coming from the next room. Holley started to speak, and she held up her hand and shook her head.
Someone s speaking in Pashtu, she said, and eased the waist-high screen door gently open to reveal Wali Hussein talking softly into a mobile phone. She turned to Holley.
He said he couldn t speak Pashtu.
We ll see about that. Holley darted out the door, appeared in seconds on the other side, a Colt in his hand, and rammed the barrel into Hussein s neck. Now then, you little bastard, let s have some truth.
Everybody watched as Colonel Hamza questioned Hussein, who stood before him handcuffed, Sergeant Hamid at his side.
I have no time to waste in this matter, the colonel said. You will answer my questions or it will be the worse for you.
They will cut me to pieces, Hussein told him.
Who, the Taliban or Al Qaeda?
I dare not say.
Hamza turned to Sergeant Hamid. Take him down to the military prison. Don t book him, turn him loose in the general cell, lose him. We ll see how he likes that. Twenty-four hours and he won t be able to walk.
Sara, horrified, said to Hussein in Pashtu, Don t be stupid. He means it. Tell him what he wants to know.
He raged at her in fluent Pashtu. All right! The Taliban rule in Amira, but on behalf of Al Qaeda. Ali Selim arrived from London in a gold Hawker jet, with two prominent businessmen with him as cover. I flew him to Amira myself in the Raptor that you didn t think was safe. He s waiting for you, whoever comes, but not to return to England. You are meat for the dogs, all of you, and a Jewish whore like you knows what to expect.
She punched him in the mouth, knocking him back into Hamid, and Ferguson said, Tell me the worst, Captain Gideon.
Which she did.
Hamid took Wali Hussein off to the kitchen, while the rest of them sat around the table and considered the situation.
Slay said, Can I ask a question of you, Major Miller? As there was always the chance that things would go sour when you met Ali Selim face-to-face, what did you intend to do if that happened?
Shoot him dead, Miller said. That s why Dillon and Holley came along, to back me up.
Dillon said, His importance stretches way beyond Europe. He s been responsible for more deaths than you could ever imagine, from Yemen to New York. If I could get close enough, I d shoot him dead without a thought.
Are you saying you d still like to go through with it? Hamza said. Even though you know Ali Selim has got his own troops ready for whoever comes along?
Slay said, On the other hand, what if we changed that some?
How could we do that? Ferguson asked.
Let s be a little inventive, Slay told him. Say, Wali Hussein phones Ali Selim up to tell him that the whole mission s been aborted. That he s been told that the Prime Minister s got cold feet, decided he can t risk losing Miller, and has called them all home. You could order the Gulfstream to take off as if returning to London, put down at Islamabad perhaps.
What would be the point?
A considerable one, if Hussein could be persuaded to tell Ali Selim he d be dropping by in the Raptor to report in person, especially if he had us on board.
Good God, what a wonderful idea! Ferguson exclaimed.
It does have merit, though there would be no guarantee you could get close enough to guarantee killing Ali Selim. That was Hamza, who was frowning but suddenly smiled. Of course, and so obvious. A mullah s blessing, the most precious gift a young woman contemplating marriage can have. If Wali Hussein begs for such a blessing, as if for a relative and his intended bride, such people would be privileged to meet Ali Selim face-to-face.
It was Holley who said, Before we go any further, we d need a woman
We ve got one, Daniel, don t be silly, Sara told him. I could pass without comment in my black burka. One of you would have to go native and dress up. You could get away with a cotton headcloth across the face, only the eyes showing.
Two would be better, Dillon said. Men, I mean. I m small enough to pass as Wali Hussein wrapped up. You could play the lover boy, Daniel.
There was silence for a while, everyone considering it. Sara took Holley s hand under the table and squeezed it hard, and he knew that what she said was as much for him as anyone else.
I m a soldier and I take a soldier s risks. Ali Selim is as bad as it gets, so I say let s take him out.
Greg Slay said, Well, you get full marks from me, Sara.
Ferguson turned to Hamza. How do you feel about this, Colonel?
I m in complete agreement with Captain Gideon. We re doing the world a favor by disposing of this wretched man. Let s have Wali Hussein in, and I ll make him an offer he can t refuse. You speak to your pilots, and I ll apply the right pressure to make sure the Gulfstream flies out within the next hour. I would also suggest trying to arrange the flight to Amira for as soon as possible. I see no reason why it should not be this afternoon.
Then by all means get Wali Hussein back, and let us do what has to be done.
Hamid produced Hussein, still in his handcuffs. He looked a sorry sight and was obviously terrified. Hamza said, Do you remember what I said before? I could send you to the military prison, not even book you in, just allow it to swallow you up until you die from abuse.
Hussein moaned, shaking his head. In the name of Allah, don t do this.
On the other hand, we could put you on a flight to Florida with your American passport in your hand, and a thousand dollars to tide you over, as long as you never come back.
Which stopped Wali Hussein dead in his tracks. He stared at Hamza.
What would you expect of me in return? Just tell me. I don t care what it is I ll do it.
I thought you might say that, so now we will have the truth. When you were on the phone talking in Pashtu, was this to Ali Selim?
No, to Ibrahim, his bodyguard. Ali Selim prefers to speak to me in English. I was to call back. He was at his prayers.
Then you must try again, but first we must get your story straight.
To Wali Hussein, deceit and low cunning were second nature, and he was actually smiling when Hamza finished planning what he had to do.
That s really very clever, he said. You ve got it right about the value of a mullah s blessing. There are parents who d pay through the nose for one of those, but from Ali Selim he shook his head you couldn t put a price on it. Mind you, the things I ve done for him, I could ask him this favor, but it would have to be for relatives. My mother s Italian American, so it d have to be one of my father s cousins. Selim is an amazing guy, he knows everything about everybody who works for him. I d have to use real names.
But that wouldn t matter, Hamza said.
If everything goes according to plan, Ali Selim would be dead.
You ve got a point. Wali Hussein smiled strangely. Or maybe we could be the ones to end up dead. But okay. I ll say my cousin Malik is marrying Zara Khan. The families have been arguing about it for years.
Excellent. What happens now? Ferguson demanded.
Hamza said to Hamid, We ll need suitable clothing for Mr. Holley, Sergeant. You go and see to that. He turned to Ferguson. Come into the office with me, and we ll arrange for the Gulfstream to take off for a simulated trip to Islamabad.
Of course, Ferguson said, and followed him to the office, leaving a disconsolate Wali Hussein sitting with his wrists still handcuffed.
Sara and the three men sat talking about the situation at one of the tables, and Dillon glanced across.
Are y
ou all right there, Wali, me ould son?
What do you bloody think? Wali Hussein replied.
Dillon peered out to the rain falling outside and wet snowflakes drifting in it. Just look at that weather and think how lucky you are to be returning to the place where you were born. Good ould Florida oranges, blondes on the beach, and tourists to fleece. You ve got it made. Remember that, so be a good boy and don t cock it up.
The clothing Hamid returned with was what you d expect in winter: boots, long shirts, baggy trousers, a three-quarter-length sheepskin coat, and a choice of headcloths in various colors and with loose ends to wrap around the neck and face against the bitter mountain cold. Every so often there was the sound of a plane landing or taking off, and suddenly, Ferguson s Codex sounded.
He answered, listened for a moment, then said, Excellent, Squadron Leader, let s hope everything goes to plan.
Was that Lacey? Greg Slay leaned out of the Raptor.
Yes, on their way, but with any luck, they might be able to turn back without landing at Islamabad, so let s get this show on the road.
Hamid unlocked Wali Hussein s handcuffs, and Ferguson said, Everybody stay well back, please, and keep absolutely quiet. He s going to make this call using my Codex on speaker. Sara, you stand close. He handed the Codex to Wali Hussein.
Get on with it.
I ve been expecting to hear from you. Tell me what Ferguson and company are up to.
The voice was dry and precise, the English perfect. Wali Hussein said, Good news, master, they ve gone.
There was a pause, and then Ali Selim said, Gone where?
Back to London. The Gulfstream has just left.
You re absolutely sure about this?
Of course. You may confirm it at the airport. There were many phone calls, which led to a great deal of talk amongst Ferguson s people. It seems the British Prime Minister has changed his mind about the whole thing and ordered they return.
How amazing, Ali Selim said. What else do you recall?
Many things, master, but I m not sure what is important and what is not. Perhaps I could come and see you. I d like to try the Raptor out. The pilot they brought with them has given the engine an overhaul. I was going to give it a test flight anyway.
An excellent idea. Come, by all means.
I would beg a favor, Wali Hussein said. My cousin Malik and Zara Khan are to be finally wed. A mullah s blessing is the most precious gift, but one from you would give them a lifetime s happiness. Forgive my impertinence.
No need to beg, Ali Selim said. You have served me well. Bring them with you, by all means. Come as soon as you like.
Amira was a typical frontier village on the edge of a plain at the foot of soaring mountains that were invisible behind a curtain of gray mist. It was raining here, too, the same mixture of large wet snowflakes. There was an air of poverty and decay to everything the crumbling flat-roofed houses, the water streaming down the center of the streets. No sign of people, no sign of life, not even a dog, but there was smoke drifting out of the stovepipe poking up from the largest house.
Ali Selim sat at a table by the window to catch the light, and the wood-burning stove produced a certain amount of heat. In spite of that, he wore a large sheepskin against the cold as he sat there, still holding his mobile phone in his right hand.
His bodyguard, Ibrahim, a fearsome creature in black robes and over six feet tall, stood impressively at the door, an AK-47 automatic rifle slung across his chest.
Ali Selim said, That was Wali Hussein to tell me the English are returning to London. He comes to see me bringing his cousin Malik and his intended bride, Zara Khan. What would you say to that, old friend?
That Allah is merciful if he allows the dead to walk, master, for Malik Hussein and Zara Khan were killed in the Raga bombing six months ago. Ibrahim spoke excellent English. Ali Selim nodded. Wali is a clever young fox to fool them like that. He is obviously under duress. We must be prepared.
I ll go and see to it, master. Ibrahim went out.
Ali Selim sat there, thinking about it, then tapped a long number into his phone. In bed at his Park Lane apartment, Owen Rashid groped for his mobile in the dark.
Ali Selim said, Ah, there you are, Owen. This is Abu.
I was asleep. It s the middle of the night.
Ah, pardon me, I m in a different time zone. I just wondered how the reception went at Parliament.
Rather crowded, and it rained. They had to put the canopies out.
Did Jean Talbot enjoy herself?
She certainly did. The President had a word with her.
Was he in good form?
He seemed so, though his day was busy. He s gone now, off to Berlin.
So there were no problems, then, no disturbances?
No, nothing at all. Why do you ask?
Oh, no reason, just curious. Sorry I bothered you, Owen. Go back to sleep.
Selim nodded to himself and switched off his mobile, thinking about his niece and Jemal, wondering what had gone wrong. But that would have to wait. He had enough on his plate right now.
At the aircraft hangar, Sara said, Ali Selim s voice on the phone was so different from when he delivered that speech in Hyde Park. He sounded so benign.
I wouldn t count on that, Holley said.
Wali Hussein said, Did I do well?
Yes, I have to admit you did, Ferguson said.
Now you d better get changed, all of you, so we can be on our way.
Sara went off with her bag, and Ferguson, Hamza, and Dillon watched as Holley picked up his clothes and went, followed by Miller. Greg Slay had been leaning out of the Raptor, watching, no need for him to change. Only Wali Hussein was left.
Can I get my flying gear? asked Hussein.
Dillon said, I ll go with him. Whatever he puts on, I ll have to do the same, if I m going to have any chance of looking like him, and he followed Wali Hussein upstairs.
Ferguson said to Colonel Hamza, You don t trust Hussein, do you?
Not even a little bit, which is why I ve decided to go along for the ride, Hamza told him.
My dear chap, Ferguson said. You ve been absolutely splendid, but I really don t think that s necessary.
He s my responsibility, General, so there s no argument here. I ll stay in the helicopter when we get there and keep an eye on him. I ll leave Hamid here with you, of course. Use him in any way you see fit.
Miller came in wearing combat fatigues, his head and face wrapped in black-and-white checkered cotton, and Holley moved in after him. The costume was perfect, and as Sara had suggested, he had wound a cotton headcloth about his head, its folds falling to his shoulders.
They d love you in the bazaar, Miller told him.
Wali Hussein came down the stairs with a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, a blue cotton scarf wound around his neck. He wore a black flying jacket and a khaki shirt and trousers. Dillon was wearing identical khaki.
I ll fly like this and steal his flying jacket and the baseball cap when we get there.
My spare shirt and trousers, Wali said.
You should he honored, Dillon told him.
All conversation died at that moment, as Sara drifted in, moving out of the gloomy shadows like some dark ghost in her black robes.
Will I do? she asked.
Most certainly, Colonel Hamza told her. You fit the part perfectly.
Then let s get going. She went to the Raptor and reached for the helping hand that Gregory Slay offered her.
ELEVEN
Wali Hussein had discussed the flight with Greg Slay before they left. Short flights to towns and villages by his three Raptors were commonly accepted by air traffic control at Peshawar. The one he had filed for a twenty-mile run to Dimla aroused no comment; nor did the fact that at five hundred feet and ten miles south, it swung west across the border with Afghanistan. Greg Slay at the controls, they set course for Amira.
The weather was atrocious, heavy rain mixed with those large wet snowflak
es, the mountains in the distance shrouded in mist. The landscape below, in the heat of summer arid and barren, stretched to a gray and miserable infinity, patchy with snow. Here and there, what had once been fissures in the ground were now swollen with water.
They passed the occasional mud house, sometimes four or five such dwellings huddled together. Occasionally two or three people would appear and stand together, staring up, although, muffled as they were in winter garments, it was impossible to tell if they were male or female.
Harry Miller, who was wearing an old sheepskin robe over his uniform, stood by the machine gun, peering out. What a bloody awful place. The backside of the world.
That s why they call it the Wilderness, Hamza shouted. Tribal laws alone apply here. They can do what they want.
Miller crouched beside him. I m trying to imagine Ali Selim fitting in here. In London a couple of days ago, now here in some mud hut, living a primitive life.
But with a mobile phone, don t forget that s all he really needs, Hamza reminded him.
Why is it so important for him to be here, of all places? Miller asked.
Al Qaeda reigns supreme in areas like this. The tribesmen from these mountains are warlike by tradition and easily recruited for the training camps in Waziristan. To them, Osama bin Laden was the next best thing to the Prophet himself. A great man who made them proud to be Muslim, proud to see Americans and British humiliated by what the West calls terrorism, but they regard as a holy struggle.
So when Ali Selim appears in their midst, it s like the Second Coming? Miller asked.
A Christian concept, that, and quite different, Hamza said. But he has enormous power and respect.
Miller shook his head. I still think religious differences are a poor reason to kill someone. I m sure most people would agree if pressed, whatever their religion.
Wali Hussein turned and scrambled down, leaving Greg Slay on his own, and said to Miller, Not long now. You and the colonel will stay well back out of sight, and Slay must join you. They will expect to see only me at the controls, and my cousin and the woman.
Hamza said, All right, we re not fools. Raise your arms.
Not again, Wali Hussein said, but did as he was told.