A Devil is vaiting

THIRTEEN

During the run from Rubat, the wind had increased considerably, picking up more and more sand, but it wasn t at the stage where it was giving Slay any serious trouble, although he thought it likely that might happen. His mobile sounded, and once more it was Roper.

It s me again. Did you really mean that about the sandstorm?

It s shaping up to one now. This is the last place God made, Slay told him. In other places, people go to market to buy food. Here down on the border with Yemen they go to market to buy arms. Anything from a general-purpose machine gun to a pistol for your pocket, and most things in between. It s a savage old world.

Are you regretting you ever went there?

I didn t have much choice, old son the cutbacks in the military in the UK saw to that. A violent wind rocked the Scorpion. Slay managed to control it. All of a sudden, it s getting interesting. I ll check in with you later.

I m open at all hours.

Slay tried going up above the storm and seemed to do better, so he increased speed and pushed on until in the distance he saw three or four derricks next to various trucks, cars, and prefabricated buildings. He dropped to where red and green lights marked the landing site, and he put down.

Sand was beginning to coat everything like a different kind of snow; he noticed that as three men manhandled a trolley toward him, the foreman leading. Slay got out of the pilot s seat, opened the side door, and jumped out.

Help yourselves, he shouted to the foreman in Arabic. Where is Hakim?

The men were already transferring the cargo. He s gone, the foreman shouted back. He said he thought it was going to get worse. I told him he should stay until it blows over, but apparently he needed to get back to base.

Damn fool, Slay said.

That s what I thought. You ll be staying, then?

No, I m a damn fool, too.

The men had finished their task, were driving the cargo away. The foreman said in English, It s your funeral isn t this what you British say?

He was laughing as he followed his men into the buildings. Slay closed the main door of the Scorpion, went back to the cockpit, and took off, sand devils dancing all around as the helicopter lifted.

Hakim had envied Gregory Slay from the start, although he had managed to conceal his feelings. There was more than one reason why. He had been taught to fly by Ben Carver, but hadn t been able to raise the money to buy it when Ben retired. Slay referred to Hakim as his partner, but he knew it was more to salve the man s pride than anything else, and Hakim s flying was only adequate, whereas Slay gave a master class in how to fly a helicopter every time he took off. Hakim, however, was totally dedicated to Al Qaeda, what Osama himself had described as the perfect jihadist, a man who gave no indication of being one.

He knew nothing of Fatima personally. To him, she was just a voice on the phone who occasionally passed on orders to him in Al Qaeda s name. Even more important, he had to keep her informed well in advance of flights to anywhere, such as Djibouti, Muscat, Bahrain, or Dubai, so that he could act as postman when required.

Fatima s first call, asking for details of Greg Slay s recent whereabouts, had excited his curiosity, but she had not explained the reason for her interest. Her second, just before he landed at Gila, certainly did.

Gregory Slay was a direct threat to Al Qaeda. He had been given the task of disposing of him, she told him, and by a famous man, Mullah Ali Selim surely he had seen him recently on Al Jazeera? Hakim had. Fatima had disobeyed the master s order not to reveal his name because she hadn t been able to stand his questioning his own worthiness. Such nonsense. She wanted to shout out his greatness to the whole world, but had to be content with just telling Hakim.

I want to hear from you the instant Slay is disposed of, she said. There was crackling on the line. What s wrong with the reception?

The wind will get worse before it gets better, he told her. If a full sandstorm drives in from the Empty Quarter, it will probably kill any signals for mobile phones for some time. I will handle this matter as fast as possible, but may not be able to report a successful outcome for a while.

Then you must fly down to Rubat and make your report to us here on the Monsoon.

As you wish.

He gripped the steering column tightly and laughed, head thrown back. So Al Qaeda wanted Greg Slay disposed of? How perfect an answer to all his problems. Change was coming; it was inevitable that Al Qaeda would fill the vacuum of power that would bring to Hazar. With Slay disposed of and the goodwill of Al Qaeda behind Hakim, there was nothing to stop him from taking over the company and its aircraft.

Gila loomed up in the distance, and he increased speed. He couldn t wait to land, discharge his cargo, and get back in the air and strike out for Hazar before Slay arrived.

It was pouring with rain in London as Henri waited in the Citro n. Owen Rashid had called him, saying he expected to be there in half an hour, but still hadn t arrived, probably because of some holdup with the weather. Kelly had taken anold umbrella from the rear of the Citro n and gone off to the shop, ostensibly for more coffee, but in reality for whiskey, having emptied the half bottle. He got two coffees and more whiskey, stopping in a doorway to drink some, then carried on, to find Owen s Mercedes parked just beside the entrance to Highfield Court. He and Henri were loading the collapsible wheelchair and a couple of bags into the luggage compartment.

Owen turned to face Kelly, disgust on his face. For God s sake, what are you playing at? You re drunk. He knocked the two paper coffee cups on the cardboard tray from Kelly s hand and grabbed the umbrella. Go and wait in the Citro n.

He pushed Kelly violently away. Henri said, What s your plan?

We ll break in from the back if we have to, but let s try the frontal approach. Did you bring the white coat and the stethoscope I suggested?

I m wearing it under my raincoat, and the stethoscope s in my pocket. He took his raincoat off and put it in the luggage compartment. Let s do it.

Sprawled across her bed hugging a pillow and still fully dressed, Sara came awake to the insistent pealing of the front doorbell. Dazed and conscious only of her throbbing headache, she lay there waiting for the bell to stop ringing, but when it didn t, she got up wearily, pulled on her desert boots, and limped down the stairs to the hall, feeling decidedly shaky. She opened the door and found the two men confronting her, Owen holding the umbrella over their heads, a small wheelchair beside them.

Captain Gideon. I had the pleasure of meeting you on the terrace of the luncheon for the President. Owen Rashid.

Oh yes, she murmured, deeply tired, conscious only of that throbbing headache. What can I do for you?

General Ferguson asked me to look in on you and introduce Doctor Legrande here.

He lowered the umbrella, took a step forward, and instinctively she moved back so that Henri followed her in. She was so tired, she felt no alarm at all, so that what happened was so very simple.

What s it all about? she asked wearily.

You seem tired, Henri said. Permit me to take your pulse, and he reached for her left hand. The prick itself was of no account, but the Seconal was so instantly effective that Owen had to grab her as she started to slide to the floor.

Henri pulled the wheelchair inside and, leaving Owen to lower her into it, opened the cloakroom door, searched hurriedly, and came back with a black beret and a gray rug, with which he covered Sara, adjusting the beret over the red hair. He went back to the cloakroom and returned with a khaki trench coat, which he draped over the back of the chair.

So, my friend, let s go.

They lifted the chair down the steps just in time to see Kelly drive away in the Citro n.

The bloody fool s drunk out of his wits, Owen said. He ll probably hit the first car he sees.

Nothing to be done about that. Henri lifted Sara in strong arms. Owen opened the rear door for him, and the Frenchman placed her carefully inside and belted her in. I ll sit beside her, playing the doctor, and you will do the driving. Are you still convinced we can get away with this?

I told you, we ll be waved straight through the gates.

He joined the traffic in Park Lane, moving toward Marble Arch, then Bayswater. Henri said, It sounds too good to be true, but I suppose we have no choice.

No, we don t, Owen told him. We re not playing the game anymore, it s playing us, so think positive and keep your fingers crossed.

The rain was torrential as they drove in through the members entrance at Frensham, and the security officer on duty simply peered out the half-open office window, recognizing him at once.

Nice weather for ducks, Mr. Rashid, he called.

I hope you re going somewhere better than this. He didn t bother coming out, simply raised the bar, and Owen drove in.

He threaded his way through an array of parked airplanes and helicopters, and pulled up under an overhang where cars were parked in bays that bore company logos. The Learjet was some little distance away. It took only two or three minutes to get out the wheelchair for Henri, who handed Sara into it. Owen raised the umbrella and walked with him toward the Lear, going ahead and opening the airstair door.

Henri carried Sara s limp body up the steps, ducking his head to pass inside, and Owen followed with her coat and the rug. He squeezed past them and lowered one of the rear seats into the reclining position. Henri passed her to him.

Gently, now, she ll need the belt, and cover her well. The change in body temperature may not be helped by the Seconal.

Why, Henri, I didn t know you cared, Owen said.

Henri s habitual smile vanished. But I do, my friend this is a great lady. I respect her both as a woman and a soldier. See that you do. I ll see to the wheelchair.

Leave it, for God s sake.

Which would draw attention. The slight smile was back on Henri s face. I would also remind you of the bags in the Mercedes.

He went out, and Owen took the deepest of breaths, realizing the stress was beginning to get to him, which wouldn t do at all. He tucked Sara in, then went to the cockpit, took the right-hand seat, and started preparing for takeoff.

Henri, holding the umbrella over his head with one hand, pushed the wheelchair with the other to the Mercedes under the overhang. He opened the trunk, took out the two bags, then closed the wheelchair and placed it inside.

Someone said, Can I help you, sir?

Henri turned as a man moved out of an exit tunnel a few feet away, wearing a peaked cap, yellow oilskins streaming. He half turned, looking toward the Lear, and Henri saw that he had Airport Police on his back and he was holding a radio.

And what exactly is going on here, sir?

Such a shame, Henri said as if to himself.

What is, sir? the policeman asked.

Oh, life, Henri said. Everything going so smoothly one minute and a total fuckup the next.

He took a silenced Walther from his right-hand raincoat pocket and shot the policeman in the heart, hurling him back against the next vehicle, a Toyota service van. He d dropped his radio to the ground, and Henri stamped on it, picked it up and threw it several cars away, then went round to the rear of the Toyota and found that the door was unlocked. He opened it, dragged the body round and heaved it inside, slamming the door shut, then he returned to the Mercedes, picked up the bags, and returned to the Learjet, where the engines were already rumbling.

Owen, headphones and mike on as he talked to control, glanced over his shoulder and, seeing him enter, closed the door. He received permission to move and felt a sudden elation as Henri eased into the left-hand seat.

They taxied to the end of the runway, paused, rain drumming against the fuselage, then, on the instruction from the control tower, took off, climbing fast to thirty thousand feet, leaving the rain behind and leveling at forty, setting a general course southwest.

Henri had put on the copilot s headphones and mike.

How far?

Four thousand miles, perhaps a little more.

How long would you say?

Depending on weather, particularly wind, eight hours. Owen laughed. I told you we d manage okay at Frensham. You worry too much.

Tell that to the policeman who turned up out of nowhere back there and wanted to know what we were getting up to. His laugh was ugly, and he shook his head. No, I was forgetting. You can t speak to him.

Why not? Owen s question was automatic.

Because I double-tapped him in the heart.

Owen shoved the Lear on autopilot and turned to him. You killed him?

He wanted to know what was going on, so what did you expect me to say? We re just kidnapping a British Army officer, so mind your own business and clear off?

What did you do with the body?

There was a Toyota service van parked next to the Mercedes. I put the body in the back.

Was that the best you could do?

Better than sticking it in the boot of the Mercedes. I stamped on his radio and threw it as far as I could along the line of parked cars. A number of the owners must be up there flying. No reason to connect us particularly. It could be anyone. He got up.

I m going to go check the woman, then I ll find the brandy and make some coffee.

Owen, filled with despair, said, Damn you, and damn that interfering cop.

His mobile phone sounded. He took it out, sat there looking at it, and Henri said, Now, I wonder who that is. Probably your master s voice all the way from Rubat. Aren t you going to tell him the good news?

Owen glared at him helplessly, then answered. Ali Selim said,

There you are, Owen. I ve been waiting to hear from you. Where are you? Do I hear aircraft noises? Are you flying?

Owen took a deep breath. Yes, Henri and I have just left Frensham and are on our way in the Lear. Kelly decided he wanted no further part in the matter at hand and did a runner on us.

How unfortunate for him. Someone should have told him that there s no place to hide. So, what news of Captain Gideon?

We ve got her. She s deep in a Seconal-induced sleep in the back of the cabin.

Ali Selim said, How long before you get here?

Almost eight hours. The Lear was still on autopilot, but he suddenly felt tired, his brain refusing to function. He could have told Ali Selim about the policeman in the Toyota, but he didn t. It could come later.

You ve done well, Owen I m pleased with you. Al Qaeda will be right behind you when the Council of Elders decides on the succession. I regret to tell you that the Sultan seems close to the end.

Well, I hope he goes to a better place, Owen told him. But as far as I m concerned, Al Qaeda can go to hell. I m signing off now.

Henri clapped his hands. Excellent, my friend, there s hope for you yet. I ll go and see to that coffee now.

On the Monsoon, there was unholy joy on Ali Selim s face as he turned to Fatima, who had been listening on speaker. So they have her. I am thrice blessed that I should see such a day.

Holley and Dillon were enjoying a Turkish bath at Holland Park when Roper called through on the internal phone.

I ve got something very interesting for you lot on my screen.

They put on terry-cloth robes and went to see him and found exactly what he was talking about when they went into the computer room. There were photos of Henri Legrande at various stages of his career, medals and all.

Just in from Claude Duval. He was called to Paris on another matter, and DGSE records had these for him. Serious business, this man.

And living right here in Mayfair in this antiques shop in Shepherd Market, Dillon said.

Not for the first time, I dare say, that the French know more about someone in London than we do. Have a look at the text on Legrande.

There was his military history, not only in the Foreign Legion but of the time he had spent training terrorists at the camp in Algeria. There were even lists of his pupils, including members of the Provisional IRA, particularly one Jack Kelly.

This is particularly interesting, because when Legrande inherited the antiques shop in Shepherd Market he also started taking classes at London University, where he met student Mary Barry, a PIRA activist whose father was a friend of Kelly s, who put her in touch with Henri, who became her lover. You ll note the details of her unfortunate death at what would appear to be British hands.

All good stuff, but what s the connection with what happened to me and Sara, and where s this leading? Holley asked.

Well, the peace process wiped the slate clean for men like Kelly, who was released from prison. As no one knows better than you and Dillon, he s been at it again. We keep an eye on him. He came over from County Down the other day in a Talbot International plane.

So? Holley said.

We monitor Jean Talbot s comings and goings. Just look at this film of people visiting her home, Roper said.

There s Kelly more than once with Legrande outside the house. There are shots of her with Owen Rashid going into the house together.

What are you suggesting? Dillon said.

That they see a lot of each other, Roper told him. But that isn t the point. Besides surveillance cameras, we have an asset who now and then observes her, sees where she goes, who she speaks to. She was being watched this morning when she emerged from Marley Court in a tracksuit, obviously bound for the park, when Owen Rashid appeared, running along the pavement, on the other side of Curzon Street.

So she followed him? Dillon asked.

So did our asset right to the antiques shop in Shepherd Market, where Rashid hammered on the door and was admitted by not only Henri Legrande but Jack Kelly. She watched from a doorway and then left, not looking very happy.

So what s it all add up to? Dillon asked.

These incidents involving Holley and Sara?

The way I see it, I would guess that Jean Talbot was shocked to see Owen Rashid and the other two together, Holley said.

So anything not kosher that they ve been up to has nothing to do with her, Dillon added. Does Ferguson know about this?

He isn t in London. The Prime Minister invited Henry Frankel and him to join him at Chequers for the weekend.

Have you tried to pull Sara into the frame?

Good God, no, Roper said. She s really been through it the last few days. She s sleeping the sleep of the just, I trust.

So we can go and lift Jack Kelly and Henri Legrande?

I don t see why not, Roper said. You ve got your SIS warrants. Technically, you should be accompanied by the police, but when did we let that stand in the way? I d get on with it, if I were you.

At Hazar, the wind was blowing curtains of sand every which way, but visibility wasn t so bad that Hakim couldn t see where he was going. He made a bad landing outside the hangars, rocking from side to side. Opening the door to get out was a struggle, the wind gusting, and Feisal had closed the great hangar door for obvious reasons. Hakim, holding the tail of his headcloth across his nose and mouth, lurched to the Judas gate, opened it, and stepped inside.

Feisal, working on the Cessna, turned to greet him, wrench in hand. He spoke in Arabic. I wasn t expecting you.

Well, I m here. Hakim crossed to the office, opened a corner cupboard, took out an AK-47, selected a magazine from several on offer, and returned to the hangar.

Feisal, wiping oil from his hands with a rag, frowned. What s happening? What s the AK for?

The execution of Gregory Slay. He should be arriving shortly from Gila.

What madness is this? Why would you wish to do such a thing? Feisal demanded.

He is not only an enemy of Islam but an enemy of Al Qaeda.

On whose authority?

Mullah Ali Selim, at this moment staying in Rubat on the Monsoon. I am privileged to have been given this task, just as you are privileged to have the opportunity to aid me.

Feisal said, I am a Bedouin of the Rashid tribe, born in the Rub al Khali, the Empty Quarter, where a man s word is his bond and honor comes before everything. Slay risked his life to save mine. I won t let you do this thing.

Hakim reversed the AK-47 and rammed the stock into the side of his face, Feisal collapsing sideways. He had just missed the Cessna wing as he fell, and lay there, blood on his face. Hakim pulled off his headcloth, using the folds to tie his wrists, then propped him up against a wheel, stuffing another loose fold into his mouth. The wind was rising out there, howling in from the desert, and Hakim opened the Judas, peered out, and immediately drew back quickly as sand blasted into his face.

He went over to Feisal, who had his eyes open now. Hakim kicked him. Wake up. I ll let you watch the fun before I kill you.

There was a genuine menace in the voice of the wind now, and then it grew louder unexpectedly and changed into the distinctive clatter of the helicopter, which rose to a crescendo outside, and then stopped. The wind howled as if trying to get in, rattling the hangar door, and then the Judas gate opened and Gregory Slay entered.

He stood there, shaking sand from his hair, wiping it from his face with the palms of his hands, and paused at the sight of the tableau before him. Outside, the wind had subsided a little, so that it seemed rather quieter in the hangar.

What s going on? he asked. Why is Feisal tied up?

Because he s a traitor to his own people, Hakim said. He actually refused to help me kill you, even though it s in the name of Islam. It seems it s a matter of honor. Can you believe that?

Feisal groaned, eyes desperate, but Slay smiled. Yes, I can.

Hakim said, Take off your flying jacket. I know you always carry a. 38 Smith Wesson in the left-hand inside pocket. Toss it away and kneel.

Anything to oblige.

Slay did as he was told, dropping to one knee, drawing the. 25 Belgian Leon from his ankle holster very quickly as he went down, shooting Hakim in the forehead, the hollow-point cartridge blowing away the back of his skull.

He untied Feisal and heaved him up. He made a mess of your face.

Feisal kicked the body. This dog tried to get me to help him kill you.

What was his reason? Slay asked.

He was under orders from Mullah Ali Selim, who is staying on a boat called the Monsoon in Rubat Harbor. It seems you are an enemy of Al Qaeda.

Gregory Slay said in astonishment, Are you certain about this?

That s what Hakim told me.

Does it bother you that we ve just killed an Al Qaeda follower?

Why should it? I ll probably take my family, travel far out into the Empty Quarter, and join up with my fellow tribesmen. They won t find me.

No need for that, Slay said. We ll empty his pockets, take his watch and wallet, drive him into the outskirts of town, ditch the jeep, and leave his body beside it in an alley. Such robberies occur all the time. You take him in one jeep, I ll follow in the other to bring you back. If a story is needed, he left here to go home. He s living on his own these days anyway.

That is true. An excellent plan, Feisal said.

Then let s get on with it.

Everything worked perfectly, they did what was necessary on the way into town, and were back in forty minutes. The drive through the increasingly bad weather had been difficult and truly frightening, the sandstorm raging at full blast.

They returned through the Judas gate into the comparative calm of the hangars, but the storm still raged outside.

I ll make some coffee in the kitchen, Feisal said. And there is a goat stew that may be heated up if you are hungry.

Excellent. You see to it, while I phone friends to reassure them of my safety.

In such a storm as this, I think not, Feisal said. It makes the signal for the mobile phones impossible for a while. You have not experienced such a great storm as this during your time here, but it happens.

Slay was already calling Roper, praying for a connection but without success. He tried several times, then went into the kitchen. The stew was heating on a bottle gas stove and smelled good as Feisal stirred.

No luck, sahib?

I m afraid not. How long will this last, would you say?

As Allah wills. Feisal shrugged. I remember several years ago a storm of such anger that there was no connection for five hours. You could keep trying, though.

I hope we can do better than that, Slay said.

But what about some of that goat s stew while we re waiting?

Jack Kelly had made it back to Shepherd Market in the Citro n, had let himself into the shop in despair at the situation into which he had gotten himself. His years in prison should have taught him a lesson.

He d had it all, the chance of a new life, a good job as the estate manager at Talbot Place, his pub in the village. Why had he listened to the siren voices of dissidents who wanted Ulster to return to armed struggle? It had been total madness.

Suddenly the quiet of the place was too much for him. What he needed was people and more whiskey, so he went out through the shop and started along the street to an Irish bar he knew.

As he was about to enter, he glanced back and saw a red Mini pull up in front of the shop. To his horror, Sean Dillon and Daniel Holley got out and moved to the entrance. Kelly panicked on the instant, and dashed into another narrow alley that brought him into Curzon Street.

He paused at a boarded-up house with a builder s sign and was violently sick, then moved out into Curzon Street, wiping his face with a handkerchief. The drizzle he d been walking in suddenly increased into a downpour. He stood there in total despair, then realized there was only one place he could go, so he crossed the road and made for Jean Talbot s house in Marley Court.

She opened the door, hair tied back. Good God, Jack, you are in a mess, she said.

I m in trouble. He was half sobbing.

Deep trouble. Can I come in?

Of course you can. He staggered past so close that he bumped into her and made for the sitting room. She frowned then, some inner caution making her leave the front door slightly ajar, and went after him.

He was helping himself to a whiskey from the sideboard. She said,

I d say you d had strong drink in abundance, from the state of you. What s this all about?

Well, your good friend Owen Rashid could make a better story of it than I can. Not that he s available to tell you anything, as he s out there in the wild blue yonder flying to Rubat in his Learjet.

He s what? She was not pleased, and it showed. I think you d better explain what you re talking about, or Talbot Place will be needing a new estate manager.

Kelly was helping himself to another whiskey. You wouldn t want to know what lover boy got us all into.

She was furiously angry now. Tell me what all this is about, damn you.

Why not? He held his glass high. To Owen Rashid, the Real IRA, and Ali Selim and Al Qaeda, may they all rot in hell. I was in over my head, I was so stupid, but I can t go to prison again. I d rather die.

So he took a deep breath, tried to pull himself together, and told her everything.

Five minutes was all it took and her life changed totally. She sat there, looking at him gravely and rather sadly.

So you ve told me the truth, Jack? They ve flown off with the young woman and are on their way to Rubat right now?

Absolutely, Jean, you ve hit the nail right on the head.

If you ll excuse me for a minute, I ve just got something to do. Have another drink if you want.

She walked out, crossed the hall into the study. There was no way she could leave Sara Gideon to her fate. How strange then that the man she needed to do the right thing now was the man she had threatened to have killed. She had put Sean Dillon s mobile number into her phone from the card he d given her at the luncheon, called him now, and he answered at once.

Who is this?

Jean Talbot. I believe you might still be in the vicinity of Shepherd Market?

How the hell did you know that?

I think you should know that Henri Legrande and Owen Rashid have kidnapped and drugged your friend Sara Gideon and are en route to Rubat with her, acting under the orders of Ali Selim. Jack Kelly s at my house now, drunk out of his wits, and has confessed everything to me.

Kelly appeared in the doorway of her study in time to hear, and pulled a Colt. 38 semi-automatic from his pocket and aimed at her, hand shaking.

Stop that, he bellowed.

You can go to hell, she replied.

He fired, bouncing her back against the wall. He stood there staring at her, shocked at what he had done. There was the roar of the Mini Cooper arriving outside, and Holley, first out, came through the front door, already ajar, and flung himself down, firing blindly. Kelly appeared from the study, gun raised, and it was Sean Dillon who shot him twice in the heart.

He stepped across Kelly as Holley picked himself up. Jean Talbot was trying to stand, blood seeping from her sleeve and soaking her blouse.

Oh, dear, she said, as he raised her, then eased her into a chair. I m stuck with having to thank you for saving my life instead of making plans to end yours.

I ll expect you learn to live with it, he said, as Holley came in with some kitchen towels. Good man, Daniel. I ll see to Jean, you call Roper, tell him what s happened and what she said about Sara. Also, a disposal team will be needed for Kelly. We ll leave the front door unlocked.

A disposal team? Jean inquired, as Dillon padded a towel and slipped it inside her blouse.

We have our own funeral people. They ll clean the place up, take the body away and deal with it.

And what happens to me?

We re going to take you to Rosedene, our own private hospital.

How kind. She smiled, but winced. It s beginning to hurt.

Don t worry, they re the best in London for gunshot wounds. They also do a great cup of tea.

That s comforting, she told him and fainted. He caught her, held her close, and called Holley, who had been in the hall, talking to Roper, then trying to contact Sara.

Holley s face was hard and set. Dillon said, You look like the devil himself, Daniel.

I feel like him. Roper said we must get Talbot to Rosedene as soon as possible. Professor Bellamy s been notified and is on his way over from Guy s Hospital to receive her. I ve been trying to reach Sara on her Codex. Only got her recorded message. Roper has sent Tony Doyle straight round to Highfield Court to do a proper search.

Bring Talbot, put her in the back seat, and let s get moving. We have to pass Sara s place on the way. Tony is bound to be there. He ll do the full police search, he s very methodical.

Holley carried Jean Talbot out, Dillon put the front door on the latch so that the disposal team would get entry, and a few moments later, the Mini Cooper was on its way.

Doyle s van was in the drive of Highfield Court, so Dillon dropped Holley off and carried on, with Jean Talbot still unconscious in the back. Holley tried the doorbell, and Doyle appeared, his face somber.

He held up a Codex. This is Sara s. I found it beside the bed, and from the state of that, I d say she d not been between the sheets. But it did look as if it had been slept on.

She was absolutely exhausted when I left her, Holley said. I think she probably flung herself on the bed fully dressed and just crashed.

No sign of a struggle. Whatever happened must have been slick and quick.

According to Kelly, she was to be drugged with Seconal.

Now that would really put you to sleep, Tony said. Anyway, there s nothing more that we can do here, so let s get back to Holland Park.

They left, Doyle locking the door, and as they went down the steps, Holley s Codex sounded. Roper said, Are you still at Sara s?

Just leaving.

Well, get here fast. I ve just had confirmation of where Ali Selim may be from Greg Slay. Quick as you can, Daniel. I think time is of the essence now. I ll contact Sean.

Anything interesting? Doyle asked.

Oh yes, Holley said as he got into the van.

I ll explain as we go. Holland Park and fast as you can.

At Rosedene, Dillon walked behind the wheeled stretcher on which Jean Talbot lay, all prepped up for her operation, drowsy from drugs already. They paused at the entrance to the operating room, where Charles Bellamy and his team waited. Dillon stood to one side, gazing down at her.

You know, I used to be an actor before the IRA got its hands on me, and actors never say good luck.

So what do they say?

Break a leg.

There s an old Irish saying: When you ve sinned, a devil is waiting. She smiled faintly and touched his hand with some difficulty. God knows, I ve sinned enough in my time, so you must be my devil. May I say break a leg to you?

And why would I need that?

Oh, I think you know, my friend. Another performance, I m sure. You ll never leave that woman in such dire straits. It s not in your nature. Give them hell. They deserve it, all of them.

Her eyes closed, and the nurse pushed her through into the operating room. Bellamy nodded, and Dillon nodded back and went out to reception, where he found Maggie Duncan.

A lovely lady, she said.

She s certainly that, Dillon said.

Can I see Harry Miller?

I wouldn t suggest it. The operation was fine, but he s had a secondary infection. Lots of penicillin will make it right, but at this moment in time he has a fever.

Well, tell him I was asking for him.

Try again tomorrow, she said.

I ve a strong suspicion I m needed elsewhere right now, so I won t be here tomorrow.

She sighed and shook her head. How many times have we patched you up, Sean? You ll never stop until

He cut in. They bring me in inside a body bag.

She crossed herself. God forgive you for saying such a wicked thing.

As he went out, his Codex sounded, and Roper said, Things are hotting up, Sean. I ve just heard from Greg Slay that Ali Selim is definitely in Rubat on this boat, the Monsoon. You d better get there fast.

On my way, Dillon told him, and ran to his Mini Cooper.

At Hazar, Greg Slay had tried innumerable times to connect with Roper, but the sandstorm blew fiercely, and it was well over an hour since his first attempt when he finally heard Roper s voice.

How are you? Roper demanded. What about the sandstorm? He d phoned Slay again so the others could hear him.

Slay said, To go through it once more, the Hawker was delivering Ali Selim to Rubat. He s down there now, staying on a luxury dhow owned by the sheikh who loaned him the Hawker that got him out of England.

Have you had any dealings with him?

Only secondhand. My partner, Hakim, turned out to be Al Qaeda, and Ali Selim ordered him to kill me.

Why would he do that?

I can only imagine he d discovered I was the Raptor pilot who d been giving him problems in Afghanistan.

So what happened?

Hakim beat up my mechanic, Feisal, because he refused to help him, and was about to blow my head off with an AK-47 when I shot him dead. We dumped the body, but Ali Selim remains a problem. The Sultan is extremely sick, with only a medical man keeping him alive. The Council of Elders are old fogies who get no respect from the lower orders. Most of them work for Rashid Oil, so they enjoy a good standard of living, but Al Qaeda has a strong following.

What about the military? Holley asked.

There s only Rubat town and port to bother about, so a sort of police militia is in charge, run by a Colonel Khazid. He and his men are totally controlled by Al Qaeda. What are we talking about here?

Well, I don t know what anyone else wants to do, said Holley, but I intend to fly down there as soon as possible to retrieve Sara Gideon.

You think you can do that?

If it s going to be done, now is the time. Sara is in the air on her way, fast asleep, not knowing what s happening. Now Roper tells me Ali Selim hasn t been crowing about this, hasn t phoned in to say he s got her, and she s destined to be the most valuable kidnap victim of all time. He s got her, in the sense that Owen Rashid and Legrande have her on the Lear, but they won t arrive in Rubat for a while. My Falcon is one of the fastest planes around. I ll have the advantage of surprise. Ali Selim s keeping quiet about where he is, but doesn t realize that we know. That should count for a lot.

Well, I wouldn t land at Rubat if I were you. Hazar would be much more sensible.

Then we d drive down to Rubat?

Good God, no, it would take forever, and the roads are hell. We ll use one of my Scorpions. It s only half an hour in one of those, and we do it so regularly, we re not even checked. So when are you coming?

Holley turned to Roper. You didn t tell Ferguson that we were going to lift Legrande and Kelly. Have you told him about these developments?

No, I haven t, because it would mean Henry Frankel and the Cabinet Office and the Prime Minister all getting their political knickers in a twist. And the newspapers, who don t give a damn about anything except their front pages, would all spew the story worldwide. Then the government would tell the Gideon Bank that they can t pay to get her back because it would set a precedent, and that would be the ministerial cherry on the cake.

He swung his chair round to look up at his screens, and Holley said, We d better check that my plane is fueled.

Roper turned. Good God, are you still here? I ordered your Falcon filled up at Farley Field within ten minutes of hearing she d been taken. I asked the armorer to sort out the weaponry you re likely to need Semtex, timers, all the usual toys.

You re a gem, Dillon told him. I always said it.

Just one thing more, since we re circumventing every avenue of government. I d just like to say, as a crippled veteran who s seen it all, that I don t give a stuff for Owen Rashid and Henri Legrande, and my opinion of Ali Selim is even lower. Blow them away, and let s get rid of these people once and for all. I want to see Sara Gideon back here in this computer room, bright and cheerful and unsullied. That s what it s all about.

And that s what you re going to get. Holley turned to Dillon. Let s get moving, Sean. And they hurried out.