by Hilary Green
* * *
Back in the communications van Pascoe and the other officers bent over their maps while Mitch, who had been joined by an Arab speaking interpreter from the Triple S staff, monitored the conversation going on in the farmhouse.
‘Well, there it is,’ said Pascoe. ‘No possibility of action by the Government before midnight.’
‘Do you reckon this man Zahran will stick to his deadline?’ asked the colonel in charge of the SAS contingent.
‘Almost certainly,’ Pascoe replied grimly.
‘Haven’t got a lot of choice then, have we,’ the other man concluded.
Mitch turned away from his radio console.
‘He’s just sent someone to fetch our two, sir.’
Pascoe straightened up. ‘Right. We’re agreed then. I’ll get up to the house and try to keep them talking.’
* * *
It had taken Stone almost half an hour to free Leo and it was some time after that before her numbed fingers could work loose the knots which bound his arms. By the time she succeeded he was sweating with the pain in his cramped shoulders and back. She knelt behind him kneading the knotted muscles while he rubbed his wrists until at last the blood began to circulate again. Then he rolled up the pieces of rope and tucked them out of sight.
‘OK,’ he said, ‘when they come to get us they must think we’re still tied up. Pretend to be unconscious, or unable to get up anyway. I want whoever comes to have to get close. When they do we’ll take them. Right?’
‘Right,’ she confirmed.
They were silent for a moment.
‘I wonder what’s going on out there,’ Stone murmured.
Leo shrugged. ‘I imagine Pascoe has realized that Zahran is still somewhere in the area, and that we’re either dead or prisoners. God only knows how long it’ll take them to track us down to this particular farm. I wonder if Zahran has given them a deadline yet.’
‘He won’t want to hang about, that’s for sure,’ Stone replied. ‘He must know it’s only a matter of time before he’s found.’
‘You know the thought that frightens me most?’ said Leo. ‘The idea that he might make a run for it and leave us down here.’
‘It wouldn’t be for long,’ he reassured her. ‘Nick’s out there somewhere. He’s got a nose like a bloodhound and he won’t rest till he’s found us.’
She turned and smiled at him. ‘No, I know he won’t.’
He looked at her. The elegant white suit was very little protection against the chill of the cellar. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chin but he saw that she was shivering. He put his arm round her and drew her close and they settled down together to wait, like a couple of lost children. He glanced at his watch. It was coming up to ten o’clock.
The time passed slowly. They talked in snatches, about Pascoe and Triple S, about places they had visited, cases they had worked on. Every so often they forced themselves to get up and move around to keep themselves alert but it was lucky for them that, when the sound of the bolts being shot back finally came, they were sitting down, for they had less warning than they had anticipated. Instantly they both thrust their hands behind them and lay back against the tarpaulin.
‘On your feet!’ commanded one of Zahran’s men.
Neither of them moved. The man came half-way down the steps, while a second stood at the top covering them with an automatic pistol.
‘Come on, get up! You’re wanted,’ the first man repeated.
Stone looked at Leo. She was lying with her head slumped, her face half hidden against the tarpaulin.
‘She can’t get up,’ he said. ‘There’s something wrong with her. I think she was injured when we crashed the car. She may be dead, for all I know.’
The man came to the bottom of the steps. He looked worried. Stone had guessed correctly that the idea that one of their valuable hostages might already be dead had got him jumpy. He came closer, peering at Leo. Stone willed the man at the top of the stairs to come down but he remained where he was, watching.
‘You! Out of the way.’ The first man gestured at him with his gun. Stone wriggled backwards, getting to his knees, pretending to have difficulty in rising. The Arab grabbed Leo by the hair and jerked her head back, but her eyes remained closed and she flopped back again as soon as he let her go. Stone mentally awarded her full marks for self-control. The man said something over his shoulder in Arabic and at last his companion holstered the automatic and ran down the stairs to help him. They bent over Leo, taking her by an arm each to drag her to her feet. At that instant Leo jerked her head forward and up, butting the first man hard on the bridge of the nose, and at the same time bringing up her knees to catch him sharply in the pit of the stomach. Simultaneously Stone brought the edge of his hand down on the back of the other man’s neck. He crumpled without a sound, while the first staggered back to collapse groaning a few feet away. Stone caught Leo by the hand, dragging her to her feet, and they turned towards the door.
‘Very good!’ said Stratos Zahran. ‘I must say that Triple S trains its people extremely well.’
He was standing in the doorway with the machine-pistol in his hands. Stone was filled with a wild desire to run straight at him and knock the mocking smile off his face, but he knew that one sudden move would almost certainly spell death for both of them.
‘Up here!’ said Zahran, sharply.
Slowly they climbed the stairs towards him. Behind them they could hear the two men beginning to recover and stagger to their feet. Zahran shouted over his shoulder,
‘Nadim!’
The man who had greeted him when he came off the boat appeared and there was a short exchange between the two of them in their own language. Zahran indicated with a movement of the gun that Stone and Leo should pass him into the hallway.
‘Tie them,’ he said. ‘And this time, make sure it’s tight.’
Stone gritted his teeth as his arms were once again forced together in the small of his back and tied so that the rope bit into his flesh. He saw Leo wince as her arms too were twisted behind her but she submitted without resistance. The other men stumbled out through the cellar door and were subjected to a scathing harangue in Arabic before being dismissed to the kitchen and replaced by the two who had tried to stop the Jag when they first arrived. Zahran looked from Stone to Leo.
‘So,’ he said. ‘Now we wait.’
The hall was large and square, almost a room in its own right. At one end was the front door and at the other, beyond the entrance to the kitchen, it narrowed to a passage, at the end of which was a window covered by a blind. In the centre of the square section was a polished oak table. Stone and Leo stood with their backs to the wall opposite the cellar door and the staircase leading to the upper floor. Zahran wandered over and stood in front of Leo, looking at her curiously.
‘Leonora Carr!’ he mused. ‘So this is what happened to you. I saw that film, you know. There was a scene in which you and the man were in bed together. Tell me, what was really going on under those silk sheets?’
Leo looked back at him without expression. ‘Nothing that would have been of any interest to you, from what I know of your reputation.’
Zahran bared his teeth, half a smile, half a snarl.
‘Later in that scene you got out of bed. We saw you walk across to the window—naked.’
Leo continued to meet his eyes. ‘As it happens,’ she said evenly, ‘that wasn’t me. They filmed that later with another girl. I didn’t even know the shot was there until I saw the finished film. But I don’t expect you to believe that.’
Stone remembered the scene, vividly. He believed what Leo had said and found, somewhat to his surprise, that he was glad of it.
Zahran laughed. ‘You’re right, I don’t believe it. You are a woman without shame. You deserve to be punished.’
He turned away and perched himself on the edge of the table, watching them.
‘You will be interested to hear, no doubt, that your colleagues have already
located us.’ Stone caught Leo’s eye with something like triumph but her look remained impassive. ‘Oh yes,’ Zahran went on, ‘I must give them credit. They have been extremely efficient. I have spoken with your commander, James Pascoe. Officially, your government has until eight o’clock tomorrow to accept our demands, but I have told him that unless we have an assurance by midnight that those demands will be met one of you will be shot, as a demonstration of our determination.’ He looked at his watch. ‘It is now eleven thirty. Of course, your government will not concede immediately. They will negotiate, play for time, try to wear us down—that is the technique, isn’t it? It will undoubtedly be necessary to convince them that we mean what we say. So I think you can make up your minds that in half an hour one of you will be dead.’
A man’s voice shouted something in Arabic from the landing above and Zahran turned and ran upstairs. A moment later, distorted by a loud-hailer but instantly recognizable, they heard Pascoe’s voice.
‘Zahran! This is Commander Pascoe. I want to talk to you.’
They heard Zahran answer but the words were muffled and indistinguishable. When Pascoe spoke again he had abandoned the loud-hailer and Stone found that however hard he strained his ears he could not make out what was being said. The conversation went on for what seemed like a very long time. Stone knew that Pascoe was doing exactly what Zahran had expected and playing for time. He could only hope and pray that his chief understood just how real the threat was; on the other hand he knew that if the price of a successful operation against men like these was his life, or Leo’s, then the price would have to be paid.
The chatter of the machine-pistol from upstairs jerked them all to attention. For a second Stone met Leo’s eyes and saw the same wild supposition as that which was in his own mind. Had Zahran shot Pascoe—and what would it mean for them if he had? Then they heard the sound of a car being reversed fast away from the house. Someone, at any rate, had survived to drive it. It occurred to Stone that Nick might very well have been with Pascoe.
Zahran came down the stairs, slowly, swinging the gun from one hand, like a man with a treat in store which he is putting off in order to savour the enjoyment longer.
‘It is as I thought,’ he said. ‘Excuses—the difficulty of assembling Cabinet Ministers at this time of night et cetera; demands for proof that we actually hold you and that you are not already dead; questions about what we propose to do if our demands are met; offers of an aircraft to fly us out of the country if we hand over the hostages safely… Delaying tactics, all of it. So, it is necessary to prove that we intend to carry out our threats.’ He paused, looking from Stone to Leo. The girl, I think. To the English, the death of a woman always comes as more of a shock.’ He gestured to his two subordinates. Take him over there, out of the way.’
Before they could get hold of him Stone lunged forward, hoping to knock Zahran down with a body charge, but he swung round and smashed the butt of the gun into his face. The two men grabbed him as he staggered and Zahran hit him in the stomach for good measure. Then he raised the gun and levelled it at Leo.
‘Not her, Zahran!’ Stone choked, fighting for breath. ‘Shoot me instead.’
Zahran cast him a mocking, sideways look.
‘Such chivalry! Be patient, your turn will come.’
Stone gazed desperately at Leo. She was deathly pale but her eyes never left Zahran.
‘You know your trouble, Stone,’ she said, without looking at him. ‘You’ve never been able to accept the equality of the sexes!’
Zahran braced the gun under his arm and took aim. He was about five feet from where Stone was being held, each of his captors tightly gripping an arm. Stone measured the distance with his eye and, as Zahran’s finger tightened on the trigger, he threw his whole weight onto the men who were holding hire and, using them as a pivot, kicked out with both feet. He caught Zahran under the forearm just as the first bullet was fired. The gun jerked upwards and a line of bullets scored up the wall and across the ceiling; but Leo twisted forward and fell to her knees, blood staining the white suit.
Stone’s impetus had dragged hire free from his captors’ grip and, unable to save himself, he fell heavily on his back, knocking the breath from his body. Zahran, still holding the gun, swung round and aimed it at him but, as he did so, there was a crash of breaking glass from the window at the end of the passage and Nick hurtled through it, feet first. Zahran raised the gun to cover the new target but as he opened fire Nick threw himself flat and a single shot from his pistol took the terrorist in the stomach and hurled him back across the oak table. At the same time there were two or three heavy explosions as stun grenades went off in several of the rooms, followed by more breaking glass and splintering wood as the men of the SAS came in through windows all round the ground floor. Helpless and only half conscious Stone rolled himself out of the way against the wall and waited for the trampling feet and the occasional shots to cease. He saw Farnaby bundled out of the back kitchen and out through the front door, followed with an almost equal lack of ceremony by the Prime Minister’s son. He looked round for Nick and saw him kneeling on the floor on the other side of the room, cradling Leo in his arms. Pascoe came swiftly through the front door and went straight to them. Stone staggered to his feet and was immediately seized by a hefty soldier.
‘OK, sunshine, on your way!’ He was shoved towards the door.
‘Get off me, you moron!’ he ground out between gritted teeth.
He was rescued by Barney Lightfoot who had come in with Pascoe.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘He’s one of ours.’
The soldier released his grip, somewhat reluctantly.
‘Cut me loose, for God’s sake,’ Stone growled.
As soon as his arms were free he staggered over to where Nick and Pascoe were still huddled over Leo and dropped on his knees beside them. The left hand side of her shirt was completely soaked in blood and her eyes were closed. Pascoe was holding her wrist.
‘Is she alive?’ Stone mumbled, through lips that felt as numb as his arms.
At the moment,’ Pascoe said.
Two men came in through the front door carrying a stretcher.
‘Over here, quickly,’ Pascoe called.
As they were about to lift her onto the stretcher Leo’s eyelids flickered and opened. Her gaze went from Pascoe to Nick and finally rested hazily on Stone. The pale lips twitched in a faint effort at a smile.
‘Precious…’ she whispered. ‘Definitely—a pearl of great price…’
They laid her on the stretcher and wrapped her in blankets, and the two bearers carried her out to the waiting ambulance. Someone called Pascoe and he straightened up and went over. Nick got up too but Stone stayed where he was on the floor. Suddenly he was aware of the blood trickling from his nose; of the pain in his back and stomach which blended into a single, sickening ache filling the whole of his body. He started to shiver.
Nick looked at him for the first time. He crouched down again beside him and put a fist under his chin to lift his head.
‘You know,’ he said, studying his face, ‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d been in a fight.’
‘Get lost!’ muttered Stone and found to his annoyance that his teeth were chattering.
Nick stripped off his jacket and put it round his shoulders.
‘C’mon,’ he said. ‘We’d better get you down to the hospital and have you checked over.’
* * *
An hour later all three men were in a small hospital waiting-room. Stone, his face cleaned and patched up, was huddled in a blanket, his hands round a mug of hot tea. X-rays had shown no bones broken but the hospital had wanted to keep him in overnight just the same. He had refused—politely, but in no uncertain terms. Nick sat opposite him, his long legs thrust out in front of him, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, resting his head against the wall behind him. By the window stood Pascoe, who had just joined them. Leo was in the operating theatre, and they were all waiting
for news.
‘I shall want a full report tomorrow, of course,’ Pascoe was saying, ‘but tell me briefly what happened.’
Stone told him.
‘So Leo wasn’t shot by accident in the fighting?’ Pascoe said.
‘No,’ Stone said flatly. ‘It was pure, coldblooded murder.’
‘I can confirm that,’ Nick said. ‘I heard Zahran giving the orders. That’s why I…’
‘Why you went in before my signal and jeopardized the whole operation,’ Pascoe said drily.
‘I’d have been dead if he hadn’t,’ Stone told him.
They were silent for a moment, then Nick said,
‘What was she talking about when she came round, just before they took her away?’
‘No idea,’ said Stone. ‘Something about pearls…’
‘Oh, surely she was referring to you,’ said Pascoe, raising an eyebrow.
‘Me?’ he queried.
‘A pun on your name? A precious Stone—a pearl of great price…?’
Stone stared at him for a moment, then he said, ‘Oh,’ and looked away and Nick was touched to see him blush.
The door opened and a man came in wearing a surgeon’s gown.
‘Commander Pascoe?’
Stone and Nick came to their feet simultaneously.
‘Yes?’ Pascoe said.
‘You’re waiting for news about Leonora Cavendish—the young woman with the gunshot wounds?’
‘Yes!’ said Pascoe again.
‘Are you a relative?’
‘No, I’m not. Get on with it, man!’
The surgeon looked at Stone and Nick.
‘Are either of you related to the young lady?’ They shook their heads dumbly. ‘It’s all rather irregular,’ he continued. ‘We usually only give information to the next of kin ...’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ exclaimed Pascoe.
‘Here!’
He thrust his warrant card under the man’s nose. The surgeon took a step back.
‘Oh, I see,’ he said nervously.