The Moses Stone

48

Hassan pulled the hire car to a stop in a car park – really little more than a dusty piece of waste ground – on the outskirts of Ram Allah, a small settlement north of Jerusalem and deep in the territory of the West Bank. Almost as soon as he'd stopped the vehicle, two other cars nosed their way into the parking area and braked to a halt close by. As Hassan and Yacoub climbed out of their car, four men – all wearing jeans and T-shirts – emerged from the other vehicles and walked over to them.

'As-Salaam alaykum,' Yacoub said formally. 'Peace be upon you.'

'And upon you,' the apparent leader of the group replied, then asked: 'You have the money?'

Yacoub turned to Hassan, who reached slowly into the outside pocket of his light jacket and pulled out a bundle of notes, then stepped forward. Yacoub raised his arm to stop him advancing any further.

'And you have the goods?' he asked. 'Let me see them.'

The man nodded and turned back towards one of the cars. As he and Yacoub reached it, one of his companions popped open the boot, and all three men peered inside. On the boot floor were two black briefcases, their leather scuffed and scratched. The man glanced round, then leant inside, snapped open the catches and lifted the lids. Each case contained half a dozen semi-automatic pistols of various types, each with two or three magazines. All of the weapons looked well used, nicks and scrapes all over them, but they were clean and oiled, which suggested they had been properly cared for.

Yacoub bent down and picked up several of the weapons for inspection.

'We'll take the two CZ–75s and two of the Brownings,' he said, 'and two magazines for each. You have plenty of shells?'

'Of course. How many boxes do you need?'

'Four will be enough,' Yacoub said.

The man opened another, smaller case, took out three boxes of nine-millimetre Parabellum ammunition and handed them to Hassan, who passed over the money he was holding.

'Thank you, my friend,' Yacoub said. 'A pleasure dealing with you.'

'The weapons,' the man replied, as he checked the money and then slammed the boot shut. 'When you've finished with them, call me. If they're undamaged we'll buy them back at half the cost.'

'Only half?'

'That's our normal rate. Take it or leave it. You have my numbers.'