A Devil is vaiting

FOURTEEN

Roper called in to Greg Slay to tell him of the Falcon s departure. After that, he left Dillon and Holley alone for the long flight. It was five hours later that he called them and discovered Dillon was doing the flying.

What s Daniel up to? he asked.

Checking the weaponry.

He s taking it hard, I think.

Wouldn t you? Dillon shook his head.

He adores Sara Gideon. I ve never seen such a change in a man.

How are you doing?

Wonderfully well. This latest Falcon is a fantastic plane with phenomenal speed, so we re catching up enough to say we could be landing at Hazar around an hour after they ve landed at Rubat.

Holley had come in, wearing desert fatigues, moved into the copilot s seat and put on the headphones. How are things, Giles?

Not as good as they are for you. Dillon tells me that you re eating up the miles.

That s what we need, but our greatest strength will be the total surprise when we come knocking on the door. It will be close to midnight, Holley told him.

Dillon cut in, Any word from Ferguson?

Not a one. They ll be too busy putting the world to rights and having a good dinner. I ve checked at Rosedene on Harry. His fever is improving, so the penicillin is doing its work.

And Jean Talbot?

She s post-operative, but Bellamy s pleased with her and says the operation was a success.

Give her my best, Dillon said.

You can do that yourself, Sean, when you two get back with Sara.

You think that s a given, do you?

It always has been. I can t see you coming back without her. I ll do my best to keep Ferguson off your back. I gave him a call, reported on Harry, and said he was best left alone.

Take care, Holley called and turned to Dillon.

Have yourself a break, and I ll take over again. Have a cup of tea and a sandwich or something. Have a look at the weaponry the armorer selected for us and check them out. There s enough for Greg Slay if he wants to come to the party, too.

Not much doubt of that, as he s flying us into Rubat. He ll play his part in the rest of it, I m sure.

Holley said, It s like going back into the past, to what happened to Rosaleen in Belfast when I killed the four men who d raped her. His face was bleak and hard. If anything bad has happened to Sara, I ll have Ali Selim s life if it s the last thing I do on earth.

We re getting close now and you re feeling stressed. Dillon patted him on the shoulder. Just take it easy, Daniel, relax. Put the plane on autopilot, let it fly itself for a while, and watch the stars come out. We re going to pull this off, I promise you.

The Learjet was passing through considerable turbulence, Owen Rashid at the controls. He eased the column forward and went down three thousand feet, finding things calmer, and Henri Legrande joined him on the flight deck.

How is Sara Gideon? Owen asked.

Henri sat down in the copilot s seat. Sleeping very peacefully. I ve looked Seconal up on the laptop in the cabin. What I read confirms that the effect lasts eight hours. It seems that when the subjects come back to life, as it were, they re in good shape and able to operate physically and so on, but they ve no memory of what s happened. They need to be told it s eight hours on.

That must be hard to grasp, Owen said.

I would think so, Henri said. No news from our lord and master? I wonder what he s up to?

Owen s mobile sounded. He put the plane on autopilot, turned his mobile to speaker, and answered.

How are things? Ali Selim said. I left you alone so long because I thought you had enough to think of with such a difficult flight.

We ll be with you quite soon now, Owen said.

And the woman?

Out cold.

Excellent. We ve had extremely bad weather here. The most ferocious sandstorm in years, with a fury seldom witnessed. It has seriously interfered with mobile phone signals, but I think things will improve.

Yes, I know all about that from the weather reports, Owen said. Have you been in touch with anyone in London about the woman?

Of course not. Today is Sunday, a day of rest to any true Englishman, and my information is that Ferguson is spending the weekend at Chequers, the Prime Minister s country retreat, with the French foreign minister. He laughed harshly. Ah, if only we had the opportunity. A bomb would wreak havoc. We could change history.

Ferguson must feel he s finally arrived, so close to the Prime Minister and the seat of power, his advice sought by international politicians. Just think what s waiting for him tomorrow when I call to break the news about Sara Gideon.

Owen said, How s my uncle?

Just the same. When he goes, it will be like the snap of a finger, for everything will change, and for you also, is it not so?

Sorry, the weather s turning turbulent again, Owen said. I ve got to turn off the autopilot and get back to flying this plane.

He switched off his mobile and took control, breathing deeply, his hands firm on the column. God, but I hate that bastard.

Join the club, Henri said. But as it isn t an option, settle for a cup of coffee, which I ll get for you now.

Slay was speaking to Holley, Dillon listening. I checked with the control tower. I told them an Algerian Falcon was arriving carrying a diplomatic envoy booked through to Bahrain. It d only be on the ground for an hour or two. Just passing through, that s your story. So you ll be in an hour after the Lear lands at Rubat. Round about midnight.

And how long in the Scorpion from Hazar?

Half an hour, and since the sandstorm has caused major disruption, we are allowed to land anywhere. The port area, for example.

And getting to the Monsoon. How would that be done?

I ve seen the police launch going out there from time to time. That could be a possibility for men of enterprise.

Which includes you?

Wouldn t miss it, old son.

And how have you been surviving the sandstorm?

I keep myself hidden. A policeman turned up a couple of hours ago to ask where I was, but Feisal, my mechanic, told him that if I wasn t at my house, he had no idea, and he said the same about Hakim Asan. It s not surprising someone s not found his body yet what with all the disruption. Feisal asked the policeman what it was all about, and he told him there had been an inquiry from the Rubat police.

Ali Selim seeking information about his Al Qaeda brother, Holley said. We ll have to deliver it personally. See you soon.

The wind blowing out of the desert in Rubat was not as bad as it had been, but still carried sand, enough to keep the streets clear.

On the Monsoon, Captain Ahmed stood at the rail, watching Colonel Khazid in a motor launch crewed by three of his officers wearing yellow oilskins with Police emblazoned on their backs. They stayed unhappily in the launch while Khazid pulled himself up on the deck, nodded to Ahmed, who was tying the line, and went to report.

Ali Selim sat at one end of the table, Fatima at the other.

There you are, and none too soon, Selim said.

Since Hakim is not with you, I assume there s obviously no sign of a Scorpion helicopter at the airport.

But there is at Hazar, Khazid said eagerly, glad to have some sort of news at last. After repeated attempts, I finally managed to get through to a colleague on the airport police. It s chaos up there because of the weather. Lots of planes coming in, queuing up to refuel, then passing on.

I haven t got the slightest interest in any of that, Ali Selim told him. What about Hakim and this man Slay?

The mechanic Feisal said that Hakim returned from a flight to Gila, and then took one of the jeeps and went home. If he isn t there, he has no idea where he is.

Fatima said, And Slay?

He flew in from Gila some time after Hakim, when the weather was quite bad. He also took a jeep and left for a small hotel in town where he stays. My colleague checked there, only to find that they haven t seen him.

Ali Selim got up and paced around, frowning. A mystery here, compounded by such extreme weather. Anything could have happened, don t you think?

He had turned to Fatima, who nodded. There are more important things to consider now. She glanced at her watch.

The Lear will be landing in forty-five minutes. I ll meet it and bring Sara Gideon to you.

Of course. Wait for Fatima on deck, Colonel.

Khazid retreated and Ali Selim said, Take Ibrahim with you. Make sure she s treated with all respect, whatever state she is in.

Of course, master, a great day. She hurried out.

From the state of the rest of the town, I d say they ve had problems with the power supply, Owen said.

I suspect the airport s come on by royal command.

From behind them, there was a clattering noise of something falling over and then Sara Gideon s voice was heard. What is this? Where in the hell am I?

Get us landed, and quickly, Henri said and returned to the cabin.

She had tossed away the cover and was trying to unbuckle the seat belt. She paused and looked up at him angrily. Her voice was normal, yet she was furiously angry.

Who are you and where am I? She managed to free herself and swing her legs to the floor.

Calm yourself, he told her. You are about to land in Rubat, which is next door to Yemen. You ve just enjoyed an eight-hour sleep from England on this Learjet.

She didn t even seem bewildered, although that could have been the drug. She simply frowned and said, Do I know you?

You would have liked to get your hands on me, yes. I tried to blow up your friend, Holley s, Alfa and almost got shot.

So you were responsible for that?

And a couple of other things.

But not for you, for someone else? Am I right?

Completely. In a way, you may consider yourself to be a prisoner of war.

And who might be my captor?

Mullah Ali Selim.

Throughout their conversation, the Lear had been descending, and now it landed, so that both of them went staggering, grabbing at seats as the plane braked, turning from the runway toward Fatima, Ibrahim, Khazid and several policemen who were waiting.

On the Lear, the engines were switched off, and as Sara pulled herself up, Owen Rashid moved in to the cabin from the flight deck. He didn t know what to say, a kind of desperation on his face.

What on earth are you playing at? she demanded.

Does Jean Talbot know about this?

Of course not.

Ali Selim? she said. What s that all about? You re a friend of the Prime Minister, for God s sake.

And not only half Arab but nephew of the Sultan of Rubat, who could die any day now.

What s that got to do with anything?

Al Qaeda has got me by the throat, it s that simple. They want me to inherit.

She turned to Henri. What s your excuse?

We don t make excuses in the Foreign Legion. If I didn t do what Ali Selim wanted, I d be a marked man. Alas, I was looking out for a friend who had enough sense to run away from this party.

She nodded as Owen opened the airstair door. So what comes now?

Ali Selim is waiting to meet you on a dhow called Monsoon , moored in the harbor, Owen said. Meet the welcoming committee. The fat man in uniform is Colonel Khazid, the chief of police, and it would be useless to seek his help. He s Al Qaeda to the hilt they all are in this town. The woman is Fatima Karim, who handles administration for Selim. The big man in black is Ali Selim s bodyguard, Ibrahim.

We ve met before, Sara said. But at a distance, I m happy to say.

She went down the steps, as they moved toward her, and it was Fatima who took charge. Captain Gideon, you will come with me. Mullah Ali Selim is most anxious to meet you.

A great honor, I m sure, which I could do without, but I don t appear to have much choice in the matter. She followed Fatima, Ibrahim leading the way. When he opened the rear door of the car and turned to face her, she said,

Why, Ibrahim, it s you. Last time I saw you was in Amira, with fifteen or sixteen dead men in the street. His stare was frightening, but Sara smiled. Oh, dear, were they friends of yours?

She got in the car, and Fatima joined her. Be careful, Captain, Ibrahim is a dangerous man.

He got in the front beside a police driver, and Sara said,

Not to me, because his boss wouldn t like it. In any case, if this thing is going the way I suspect, then I m far too valuable.

I d take care, Captain, I really would.

I m a serving soldier in the British Army, shot in combat in Afghanistan, a permanent limp in the right leg. I ve killed many Taliban, which means many Muslims. What can Ibrahim do to me that has not been done? Ravish me? But what kind of dog does that? Not a real man, certainly.

All this was delivered in perfect Arabic. Ibrahim reached up to angle the driving mirror, and she looked into eyes filled with hate.

He said, A time will come when you beg me for mercy.

I m frightened to death, Sara said, as the small procession of vehicles drew up on the jetty. Khazid and six of his men led the way to a police launch followed by Ibrahim, Fatima and Sara, Owen Rashid and Henri Legrande behind. They boarded, only the police remaining on deck in their uniforms, the others under cover. Henri s chest had been hurting for some time, probably as the result of flying at a great height for so long. He coughed, reaching for a handkerchief, coughed again. When he examined it, he found fresh blood. So it was finally beginning.

He looked at Sara Gideon in the corner and then to Ibrahim, evil personified, and thought of her in the hands of such a man, thought of Mary, the love of his life, and knew what she would have wanted him to do now that he was close to the end. He carried a Beretta in a shoulder holster. He also carried a folded flick-knife in his left trouser pocket.

When the launch reached the landing platform for them to go up the steps, and there was a momentary crush, he murmured, Excusez-moi, Capitaine, and slipped the knife into her hand. Her fingers closed over it, she gave him not even the briefest of glances, and went after Fatima, who had followed Ibrahim out.

Several sailors had appeared, and Ahmed was talking to them. Ibrahim carried on, leading the way through to where Ali Selim waited, sitting behind the table in his usual place.

As you ordered, master.

Ali Selim examined Sara gravely. You are a remarkable woman, Captain.

Why am I here? Sara asked calmly.

I m sure you can answer that for yourself, Sara Gideon. You are the largest stockholder in the Gideon Bank, where your grandfather keeps the chairman s seat warm for you while you serve Queen and Country. How much would the bank pay to get you back in one piece? A hundred million sterling, to start with?

Oh, a lot more than that. After all, it s mostly my money, isn t it?

You know, you are absolutely right. He smiled.

But what a poor host I am. Sit down, all of you, at the dining table. I gave orders to the chef to provide something, in spite of the lateness of the hour.

He nodded to Ibrahim, who went and opened the double door at the far end, and four waiters pushed in trolleys and started transferring a range of rice dishes, salads, and baked fish, working fast to lay it all out.

On the other side of the world in Britain, three hours behind Rubat, Charles Ferguson, after a first-class dinner at Chequers with the great and the good, was enjoying a cigar on the garden terrace with Henry Frankel, when the French foreign minister came out, elegant in his black velvet dinner jacket.

There you are. The Prime Minister sends his apologies. He ll join us when he can. He s speaking to someone at the UN in New York. I ve just been talking to my chief secretary in Paris. I m glad to hear Claude Duval s been able to help you with the Frenchman you were after, Charles.

Claude Duval? Ferguson asked.

Colonel Duval, DGSE. They ve managed a match on some mysterious Frenchman you had a photo of. It seems he is an ex Foreign Legionnaire, one Henri Legrande, who used to train the IRA, and others of a like persuasion, in a camp in the Algerian desert.

Henry Frankel murmured, You didn t tell me, Charles.

More like, someone didn t tell me. The Prime Minister looked out, called them in for drinks, and Ferguson whispered to Frankel, Make my excuses, I ve got a phone call to make.

He said to Roper, So it would appear that the anonymous Frenchman was very real indeed and up to no good?

Absolutely, mea culpa, Roper said. You had other things on your mind, cabinet stuff, keeping the politicians happy. That s what it s all about these days. Mind you, it might get you a knighthood.

That s damn unfair, Giles. What about this Henri Legrande? Who is he?

Has an antiques shop in Shepherd Market. Had Jack Kelly staying with him for a few days. They were responsible for the bomb under Holley s car, amongst other things.

What are you doing about it? Have you pulled him in?

I can t do that. Kelly s dead and taken care of by the disposal unit, killed by Dillon after he shot Jean Talbot. Henri Legrande is in Rubat. The unfortunate news is that Sara has been kidnapped at the behest of Ali Selim, who we ve traced to Rubat. Holley and Dillon have flown out to Greg Slay in Hazar. Right about now, they re going to descend on Rubat in one of Greg s Scorpion helicopters and try to get her back.

Dear God, Ferguson said. They re going in now, you say, and I ve just been called in for drinks by the Prime Minister?

You do lead a rough old life, Charles. However, to cut to the chase, I wouldn t say a word about this. Just keep your fingers crossed that our gallant lads triumph and bring the girl home safe. That way, you might still have a job.

What a comfort you are, Giles. I ll go back in and try to keep smiling.

When Ferguson returned, everyone was enjoying their drink and listening to the French foreign minister playing Cole Porter numbers on the grand piano. He was doing it rather well, and people joined in with the chorus of Night and Day.

Ferguson pulled Henry Frankel into a corner, who said, What on earth is this, Charles?

Henry, you ve got the biggest mouth on you in Downing Street, perhaps even the House of Commons.

Why, Charles, how unkind.

Henry, I beg you. No mention of a Foreign Legionnaire who trained the IRA in the Algerian desert, no mention of what a good job Colonel Claude Duval and the DGSE have done for us.

You re getting quite intense. Wouldn t it be a good idea to tell me exactly what s going on?

While we re living it up, Dillon and Daniel Holley are flying into Rubat to try and save Sara Gideon, who s been kidnapped by Ali Selim s people. That s where the bastard is Rubat and guess who s been working with him all along? Owen Rashid, the Sultan s nephew.

Henry said, Is that so? His smile had no warmth to it at all. You know, I never cared for Owen. When you reach my age, it s comforting to know you re right occasionally. However, thank you for the confidence. I realize of course that you are hoping I ll agree not to mention this to the Prime Minister.

That was the general idea.

Like Sara said, hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Just imagine, we could be both out of a job.

Or claiming all the success, as politicians do, if everything succeeds.

Exactly. Henry smiled. It s going to be a long night, Charles. Brandy and bridge, is my suggestion.

The Falcon landed, taxied up to Slay s hangar, and parked. He immediately ordered priority refueling, reminding the tower that it was an Algerian plane on diplomatic business.

In the hangar, they met Feisal, got him to find a blanket, and laid out the weapons. Each of them was wearing a bulletproof vest, and the personal weapons were the same for each: a Walther and a. 25 Colt, an Uzi submachine gun all silent versions a useful flick-knife for the left boot, a couple of pineapple grenades, Semtex with five-minute pencil timers.

Feisal had gone off to check with the tower, and returned as the refueling truck finished its work and drove away. The wind was beginning to pick up again, and one could feel the sand.

He came into the comparative warmth of the hangar and found the three men pulling on desert fatigue tunics and loading up the capacious pockets.

They landed at Rubat just under an hour ago. I have reminded my friend on night dispatch that the Falcon is on an important Algerian diplomatic mission and must be allowed a priority departure when you are ready to leave.

Greg went out to his office and returned with a small leather purse, which he handed to Feisal. If something goes wrong, you must flee at once with your wife and child into the Empty Quarter. In the bag are fifty gold sovereigns, worth a couple of thousand pounds sterling in today s market. You have been a good friend.

Feisal embraced him. My wife is already waiting for me fifteen miles out at the Shaba Oasis with her extended family to protect her, all Rashid Bedu warriors who have no fear where Al Qaeda is concerned. He smiled. So I can take my chances here and wait for you. I have told my friend on night dispatch that you go to Rubat on a medical emergency with drugs.

Good man, yourself, Dillon told him, and turned to the others. Here we go, then.

They went out through the Judas gate, it slammed shut, and the wind rattled the roof, making a strange moaning sound. Then there was the unmistakable clatter of a helicopter starting to move, the sound very powerful, but then fading into the distance as the Scorpion moved away into the night.

Ali Selim sat at the end of the table, Fatima on one side, Sara the other. Owen Rashid and Henri faced each other, and Captain Ahmed and Colonel Khazid were at the far end, Khazid stuffing himself. Five of his men were at a table in the far corner, a waiter ladling some sort of stew to them, and three other waiters stood ready to handle any of the main table s requirements.

So long had it been since she had eaten at all that Sara had accepted what was offered to her, baked fish with rice. Ali Selim said, I can t ask if you enjoyed your flight, since you weren t aware that it was happening. It must have been an alarming experience. Tell me about it?

Do you really want to know? she said.

I do indeed. It s certainly to be preferred to watching two fat swine gorging themselves like pigs at the far end of the table.

I ll tell you, then. I believe that what I experienced was very much how death is going to be. I was alive one second when Legrande gave me the needle and then I didn t exist until I came back to life as the plane descended.

Owen looked uncomfortable, and Henri sat there, face set, as Ali Selim said, So you experienced resurrection, which ordinary people don t after they die.

Fatima s mobile phone sounded. She answered, her look immediately grave, and leaned over and whispered to him. He listened, face expressionless, then raised his hand and called for silence.

He turned to Owen. Do you believe in the resurrection, my friend?

There was total silence. I ve never given the matter much thought, Owen said.

Not even your Christian half, where the Gospels tell us that Christ died and rose again after three days?

Ibrahim, who had been standing against the wall, eased forward, as if at a signal, and stood behind Owen. Ali Selim said, What if I told you the Sultan is dead? Would you be pleased or sad at the prospect of replacing him?

Owen looked pale and desperate. I don t know what you mean.

Ali Selim nodded. Ibrahim pulled the leather whip from his belt, flung it around Owen s neck, and proceeded to throttle him, jerking his head over the back of the chair.

Sara shouted, Stop it, damn you. I don t know what your game is, but it s gone far enough.

Quite simple, really, Ali Selim said, watching Owen coughing and choking as he fought his way back to normality as Ibrahim released him. I have provided your resurrection, Owen, so that you may occupy your uncle s place. I ll make your decision, of course, on behalf of Al Qaeda. You ll need to marry, people will expect it. Fatima will make a perfect bride no problem there, Fatima?

She was obviously troubled, glanced at Owen for only a moment, then said, As you command, master.

Before he could reply, there was a disturbance down at the far door, as a sailor came in, leaned down, and spoke to Ahmed and Khazid.

Ali Selim called, What is it?

Khazid said, There seems to be a helicopter landing somewhere in the town.

Selim glanced at Fatima. Hakim turning up at last, perhaps? He nodded to Khazid. Well, do something useful for once, Colonel, go and investigate.

Of course, master, Khazid gestured to his men, who followed him out, followed by Ahmed. They stood at the rail, listening, but the only sound was the moaning of the wind.

Maybe it was a mistake, Ahmed said.

Perhaps, but the last time I saw him in this kind of mood, Ibrahim strangled the man concerned, then threw him overboard. I prefer to go and check. I ll take one man to pilot the launch and leave the others with you. With sailors, that will give you a dozen men. Tell them to stay alert. I ll be back soon.

As the Scorpion drifted down over the town, the wind started to blow again. Slay said, I was looking this sandstorm business up on screen. It seems there can sometimes be a resurgence pattern where the second shock can be worse than the first, just like an earthquake.

Then let s get on with it, Dillon said.

Where are we landing?

Greg Slay said, By the cargo hangars at the east end of the pier. I ve used it often to pick up stuff that s come in by boat. There s a small police station near it, and the police launches tie up at the steps.

How many police?

I ve never seen more than a handful.

Dillon pulled a ski mask from his pocket and pulled it on, just the eyes and the gash of the mouth showing. Put us down, Greg, and let s get on with it. Maybe we can frighten them to death.

Holley said, Very funny, Sean, but remember where you are. The kind of country where leg irons are a permanent fixture. Torture of every kind is on the menu, and the sexual varieties don t bear thinking about. I m here to get Sara. I ll kill anyone who gets in my way.

All right, Dillon said, we get the point. So let s do it.

They skimmed flat roofs, noticing that in most places where there was a light it was quickly turned off, dropped in beside the cargo building, hovered and descended. Slay switched off, pulled on a ski mask, pulled an Uzi out of the capacious pocket of his desert fatigues, turned and followed the other two out.

A uniformed policeman with an AK-47 moved out from behind a container and called out in Arabic, Stay where you are and identify yourselves.

Holley turned, pulled out his silenced Walther, and fired on the instant, knocking the policeman over the edge of the pier and into the water.

Give the man a coconut, Dillon said softly, and they paused at the sound of the launch approaching from the Monsoon.

What now? Slay asked, as they crouched, watching the launch come in, the pilot jump to the pier to the step. Khazid joined him, paused to light a cigarette, then walked toward the police post, the pilot following, opened the front door and entered.

That was Khazid, the chief of police, Slay said.

Excellent, Holley said. And as he s just over from the dhow, he ll be able to tell us exactly what s going on out there.

He ran toward the police post, flung open the front door, and rushed inside. Khazid was handing out cigarettes to his pilot and four others, and they all turned in alarm.

Who are you? What is this? Khazid demanded in Arabic.

Holley took a step toward him, pulled the Walther from his pocket, and struck him across the face. Khazid cried out and fell back across a desk.

We ve come for the English woman, Holley said. She only arrived an hour or so ago, so tell me the truth or I ll kill you. That his threat was delivered in Arabic made it even more impressive.

Khazid, fear of Ali Selim heavily on his mind, moaned and said,

What are you talking about? This is madness. Captain Slay, why are you mixed up in this?

One of the policemen at the back of the group made a move to draw his pistol from its holster, and Slay knocked him back against the wall with a blast from the Uzi. It was enough, and those unharmed put their hands on their heads.

Tell him, someone called.

So Khazid did. What was happening on the Monsoon, who was on board everything. Someone passed him a towel, which he held to his broken face.

Holley said, This is how it goes. You and your pilot will take us to the dhow in the launch and we ll go on board to retrieve the woman. The slightest thing you do wrong, you die. Is this understood?

We will do as you say.

We ll have three of those police oilskins so we look right on the launch. You and the pilot will handcuff the others, put them in leg irons and then lock them in a cell. Anyone who causes trouble will be shot instantly.

The pilot, a wild young man, looked angry, but Khazid put a hand on his arm. Do as you are told and help me, Abdul, that s an order.

The pilot nodded reluctantly. If you say so, Colonel.

The gunplay so far had been with silenced weapons, so there had been no cause for alarm for Captain Ahmed, the three sailors and four policemen standing at the rail, watching the launch come in.

One of the sailors said, The colonel appears to be bringing more police with him.

I don t see anyone I know, Ahmed said.

Who are they?

It was at that moment that Abdul, the pilot, angry and dissatisfied with the turn of events in the launch, grabbed for the very light signaling pistol that hung by the open starboard window. He reached out, raised the pistol and fired, the flare soaring into the night sky, illuminating everything in harsh white light.

He shouted at the top of his voice, They come for the English woman! Slay and his friends!

Captain Ahmed ran away along the deck, and Holley clubbed Abdul across the side of his head, and, as he went down, Slay grabbed the wheel. There was still some way to go, and shots rang out, and a bullet punched through the windshield.

Keep down, he said to the others. I ll go in fast, then swerve up close. A couple of grenades might give them something to think about.

You re on, Dillon said.

They all crouched, Dillon pulling Khazid down, and Slay pushed the launch as hard as it would go, aiming for the landing platform, turning at the last moment so Dillon and Holley could lob over two pineapple grenades. There were cries of dismay, men running to get away from the carnage. Slay brought the launch in again, bouncing against the landing platform. Dillon and Holley jumped to the deck, guns blazing, cutting some of the police and crew down, while others, shocked by the ferocity of the attack, turned and fled. Slay leapt on to the platform, the painter in one hand, and looped it over a hook to hold the launch ready against their departure.

He turned to see Khazid cowering back in the boat and shouted to him, Get up here now!

Suddenly Khazid was knocked out of the way by Abdul, the pilot, blood on his face and the signaling pistol in his right hand. As he raised it, Dillon, above him at the rail, fired a long burst with his Uzi that knocked him back over the side of the launch, the pistol discharging so that the flare glowed white hot under dark water for a moment before being extinguished.

Slay grabbed Khazid by the front of his tunic and said again,

Get up here.

Khazid was half sobbing, and Dillon reached down and pulled him up. Someone was firing from along the deck, AK-47 shots that you could hear. Together, he said, as he scrambled up with Holley and Slay, and they loosed off long bursts, sweeping the decks clear toward the prow.

There was only silence up there now and Holley pushed Khazid in the direction of the stern. You know where we want to be, so just take us there, if you want to live, that is.

The sound of shooting had everyone at the dining table jumping to their feet, and Ahmed burst in through the door from the deck.

Captain Slay is here Slay from Hazar with others. They say they have come for the English woman.

A burst from Dillon s Uzi drove him headlong to his knees at the end of the table, and the police there fired back with their AK-47s. One of them fell sideways to the floor close to Henri Legrande, who drew his Beretta.

He said to Owen, I shouldn t imagine we d get anywhere shouting, I surrender to these people. Are you armed?

I ve never had to be.

Henri leaned down and pulled a Makarov from the dead policeman s holster. He passed it across. Nine shots, make them count.

At that moment, Slay, on the deck outside, fired through a porthole window, a sustained burst that hurled both men back across the table, killing them instantly.

Ibrahim was at the deck entrance with his AK-47, Ali Selim firing a pistol he had produced from under his robe. Seeing what had happened to Owen and Henri, he turned to Ibrahim, taking another magazine from his pocket and reloading.

The women, Ibrahim, into the owner s quarters. I ll follow you. We can get away from this mess in the stern launch.

Fatima hurried ahead, pulling Sara behind her, and when she tried to struggle, Ibrahim gave her a heavy slap across the side of her head. Fatima got the wide mahogany door open to the bedrooms and pulled Sara in, Ibrahim at their heels.

The police and crew at the far end of the dining table had taken heavy casualties, and now Greg Slay, Dillon, and Holley rushed in low, sweeping the room, the men who were still standing dropping their weapons and raising their hands. Only one man was still on his feet with a weapon in his hand, and it was Ali Selim.

He leveled his pistol at Dillon and shot him twice in the chest, which because of the nylon-and-titanium vest Dillon was wearing only succeeded in knocking him down. Holley, in turn, emptied the magazine of his Uzi into him, throwing Selim backward and close to the open door to the owner s quarters, where Ibrahim, Sara, and Fatima could see him as he fell.

He s dead, Ibrahim said, kicking the door shut, as Holley and Slay pulled Dillon to his feet.

Fatima cried out as Ibrahim locked the door. No, you can t leave him like that, she cried in Arabic.

He knocked her down with a punch to the face. She rolled over, then got to her feet, a small pistol in her hand. Without the slightest hesitation, he pulled a Makarov out of his sash and shot her dead.

He turned to face Sara, a figure of total menace, and spoke in English. The small door in the corner opens to steps leading down to the stern. A launch is moored there, which is how we shall depart. He went and opened it. Lead the way.

There was a kick on the other door. She said, Like hell I will.

Ibrahim slapped her face, his fingers tightened on the hair, and he pulled her close. You will obey me by the time I finish with you. He laughed, his head back, as a thunderous knocking sounded.

I don t think so. Her right hand found the knife that Henri Legrande had given her. She pressed the button, springing the razor-sharp blade, and stabbed Ibrahim under the chin, the blade shearing up through the roof of the mouth into the brain. His eyes burned into her, he started to fold, his hands clutching at her, the door crashed open, and Holley and Slay rushed in. Sara pushed, and he went down.

She stood there, looking at her hands, which were covered in blood, and Holley and Slay pulled off their ski masks. She gazed at them wildly. God knows how you managed it. I really was facing the prospect of a fate worse than death with this animal.

She stirred Ibrahim with her foot, and Holley pulled his camouflage scarf off and wiped the blood from her hands. You don t need to worry about anything now.

Neither does she. She looked down at Fatima.

Poor girl, she really believed in it all, and in the end this is where it got her. Holley led her out to where Dillon was taking photos of Ali Selim. What s the point of that? she asked.

Proof that it s him and that he s dead, Dillon said. Otherwise, no one will believe it.

Are you okay, Sean? Holley asked, and said to Sara, Ali Selim shot him twice.

Which I ve survived, thanks to my titanium vest, and not for the first time. But I think we d better get moving. Wouldn t you agree, Greg?

Absolutely, Slay said. Back to Hazar as fast as possible.

There were bodies aplenty, but those who had surrendered had disappeared. They closed around Sara and proceeded cautiously, and just before they reached the launch someone fired a rifle from up ahead. Dillon and Holley immediately sprayed the area, while Slay escorted Sara down to the boat and turned on the engine.

Holley still fired short bursts into the darkness, and Dillon heaved open a hatch cover, revealing steps down into some sort of hold. He produced a Semtex block from his tunic pocket, stuck in a five-minute pencil timer, primed it, and dropped the block into darkness.

Let s get out of here, he said, and as Holley went down, hurried after him, unhooking the painter, the launch surging ahead as it picked up speed and made for the pier.

As they turned alongside and disembarked, there was a low, deep rumble as the Semtex exploded in the depths of the dhow. They hurried to the Scorpion, embarked quickly and were taking off in minutes, Slay making a close pass over the Monsoon as flames started to eat through the wooden decks. There were men down there, leaping into the sea in life jackets.

Not that they deserve it, but they ll be fine, Slay said. The sea is nice and warm and not renowned for sharks. The sheikh who owns Monsoon is a billionaire. All that oil, you see. He probably didn t even bother to insure it.

He took the Scorpion round on a curve, climbing to a thousand feet and heading fast across the desert to Hazar.