And what would that be? Tod demanded.
Ive just heard from a source that the target is receiving guests tonight by helicopter.
We heard one arriving somewhere in the island not long ago, Tod told him.
The Masters voice was unemotional. Probably the one delivering them.
Theyll get a shock when they find themselves invaded by two crazy Chechens.
Its the Chechens we need to worry about, the Master said. His guests are General Charles Ferguson who commands the British Prime Ministers private hit squad and two of his top people, a Captain Sara Gideon and one Sean Dillon, a notorious IRA gunman who now works for Ferguson.
But I know these people, everyone in the Death Trade does. Flynn was angry now. Why the hell would they be here?
Its time to tell you who our target is. Its the former President of the United States, Jake Cazalet.
Tod was shocked. You lousy bastard.
The Master continued. You must cancel the operation. I cant do it. Yanni and Khalid have no phone.
I see, Tod said. You knew they were wild cards and too untrustworthy to handle your special phone.
You must try and stop them. Surely theres still time?
Tod was so angry he switched off.
Kelly said, Christ, what a cockup. Maybe well be lucky and catch them walking the beach to Cazalets house.
No, we wont, Tod told him. I dont want anything more to do with this. Well cast off right now, sail overnight to Long Island, and leave the boat at Quogue. Then well head straight to the airport and find the first plane thatll take us back to Dublin.
And not even try to pick the boys up?
Do you really think therell be anyone to pick up? Sean Dillon is a bloody living legend of the IRA, as no one knows better than you, and this Sara Gideon lass has a Military Cross for killing Taliban. Not to mention Ferguson himself. No, those Chechens are dead meat. And frankly, I couldnt care less.
The house stood in trees behind a vast beach reaching out from town. The helicopter had landed some distance away, where Cazalets Secret Service man, Dalton, waited in a Jeep. He went to greet Ferguson and his people, who walked to meet him.
Ferguson shook hands. Here I am again, Agent Dalton. Nice to see you. They waited as the helicopter drifted away.
Dalton said, Itll be back in the morning. He eased Saras bag from her hand and led the way to the Jeep.
President Cazalets really pleased to be seeing you. Mrs Boulder has left out a lovely supper in the conservatory.
The President? Is that how you still address him? Sara asked.
Ferguson said, Technically, all former holders of the office retain the title for life, but I think its a matter of individual choice. Cazalet says there can only be one Mr President and asks that I call him Jake. I could never bring myself to do it, so I make do with sir.
Then sir it will be for me also, Sara said.
Im looking forward to seeing Murchison again, Ferguson said. Thats the dog of the house, Sara, a wonderful flat-coated retriever.
Who once saved the Presidents life, as I recall, Dillon said. Although theres no official documentation of that.
Too bad he isnt here tonight, said Dalton. Mrs Boulder has taken him home with her. She gets lonely since her husband died last year, and the President doesnt mind.
He turned off the road at a point where high-wire fencing fronted the trees. He paused, waiting for a ten-foot gate to open slowly between stone pillars, and drove through, pine trees and lots of shrubbery crowding in from both sides. To the left, they could see a terraced conservatory and they continued, circling around to a formal garden that fronted the old Colonial-style house with steps leading up to a pillared entrance, the door standing open, light pouring out, and Jake Cazalet waiting to greet them.
Charles, my dear old friend, he cried. Marvellous to see you, marvellous to see all of you.
Then he rushed down the steps to greet them, arms outstretched.
After embraces, Ferguson said, Now, this was all most mysterious. Its always a pleasure to see you, sir, but why were we summoned?
Cazalet said, Oh, its nothing dire. The President wanted to invite you to the Oval Office, but couldnt because of the publicity such a visit would have caused. He said you were in New York to meet the British ambassador and proposed that we kidnap you for a night so that I could say a heartfelt thanks on his behalf for your handling of the Husseini affair. If Iran had been able to use his work to perfect their nuclear bomb well, it wouldnt bear thinking of. All three of you did a remarkable job, and we are in your debt.
Please tell the President how grateful we are, Ferguson said. But its all in the game these days, and a damn ugly game it is.
Youve got that right, Cazalet said. Its a complete mess. Jihadists allied to Al Qaeda have infiltrated international terrorism like the plague, linking groups worldwide, each controlled by that anonymous leader always known as the Master, a shadowy figure, a voice on the phone. Backed by millions obtained from oil-rich states in the Middle East. Theyre extremely dangerous.
As Captain Gideon can attest to first-hand, said Ferguson.
Cazalet turned to Sara, who said, Dillon and I were targeted by Al Qaeda in London, with orders to dispose of us.
I notice youre still here, Cazalet said.
You should see her in action, sir, Dillon told him.
So theres a Master responsible for London?
He also handled affairs in Paris, Dillon said. And later in Beirut.
And turned out to be General Ali ben Levi, the commander of the Iranian Armys Secret Field Police.
He was killed in London, though we werent responsible, Ferguson said. But we had his body disposed of. We couldnt see the point of sending the details to the Iranian military, and theyre still looking for him. They had no idea of his Al Qaeda connection.
And Im sure he has already been replaced, said Cazalet. That theres a new Master out there now. Terrorism has completely changed warfare as we know it. Enemies without uniforms, bombs everywhere. He shivered. End of an era. But enough of that for this one night. Tonight, lets go out on the terrace and have some champagne. Or perhaps youd prefer a glass of port, Charles?
Now youre talking, sir, Ferguson said, and led the way out.
The dining room opened into the conservatory, where great sliding doors gave access to the terrace with tables and lounging chairs, the garden crowding in, flowering shrubs of every description, tall pines and palm trees that someone had experimented with over many years. The scent of flowers, the sound of grasshoppers chirping in the lights, all combined to create a kind of tropical splendour.
Wonderful, Sara said. I love the smell of it.
Cazalet said, Its a bit of a jungle really, but at my age I can do as I please, so I let it run riot. Reminds me of my tours in Vietnam. Come, have something to eat.
2
Yanni and Khalid had reached the house without the slightest trouble, following the beach, passing the occasional barbecue, sometimes a fire. There were lots of other people in the darkness, laughter, guitar music, but there was no one by the Cazalet house.
Yanni and Khalid had reached the house without the slightest trouble, following the beach, passing the occasional barbecue, sometimes a fire. There were lots of other people in the darkness, laughter, guitar music, but there was no one by the Cazalet house.
They passed it, turning up the left side of the estate through a marshy area with reeds growing high, found a place where the fencing gaped and squeezed into the garden. They could hear conversation and laughter, light through the trees and shrubbery.
They had taken pills before leaving the cottage and were feeling the effects. Are you getting high, brother? Yanni whispered.
Im floating, man, Khalid told him.
Then put on your face.
Yanni pulled the ski mask on, and grinned as his brother did the same. You look like a clown.
So do you, Khalid told him, and took his Glock out and dropped the shoulder bag to the ground. Lets do it, he said to Yanni, and led the way cautiously.
On the terrace, they were at the coffee stage, Ferguson and Cazalet sitting down and Dalton pouring it out. Dillon was standing by the open window, enjoying a cigarette. There were three stone steps leading up to the terrace crowded with overgrown shrubbery, and Sara stood there waiting for her coffee. Yanni crouched, watching her admiringly. His brother stood a few feet away in heavy bushes behind the balustrade.
They could have killed everyone if theyd fired without hesitating, but the drugs had taken full control and they were shaking with excitement, and it was Yanni who made the first move.
Lets go! he shouted, and took three quick steps up to the terrace. Sara half turned and he hit her sideways in the face, pulled her against him, and rammed the barrel of the Glock into her side. A present from Osama, with regards from the Master.
Oh God, she moaned, as if terrified, and closed her eyes, apparently fainting, starting to slide to the floor so that he was losing his grasp.
Dalton was already drawing his weapon and jumping in front of Cazalet. Khalid stepped out of the bushes and shot him in the chest. In the same moment, Dillon drew the Colt .25 he always carried in a rear belt holder and fired rapidly three times, the hollow-point cartridges tearing Khalid apart, hurling him back into the shrubbery.
Yanni howled in rage, allowed Sara to slide, and fired once at Dillon, denting the wall. Sara withdrew the flick knife from the sheath she always wore around her right ankle, sprang the blade, and stabbed him under the chin. He dropped his weapon, fell back down the steps, and lay in the middle of rosebushes, kicking as he choked to death.
There had been surprisingly little sound, just the dull thud of silenced weapons, and Cazalet was already on his knees with Ferguson, examining Dalton, Dillon standing over them, his gun still in his hand. Dalton groaned and Cazalet looked up in relief.
Thank God, he was wearing his vest. Ill leave him to you, Charles, while I raise the alarm.
He found Daltons cell phone and called in. This is Cazalet. Empire down. Two intruders down. Request Nightbird Retrieval.
He said to the others, Which means a cover-up job by the CIA. It should be easy enough, since all the weapons were silenced, so the neighbours shouldnt have any idea whats been going on, and as you know, the occasional helicopter landing is nothing new here. He turned to Sara. I can see why they awarded you a Military Cross in Afghanistan, but your suit will never be the same again. Its badly bloodstained.
No problem, sir, I have another in my luggage. If youll excuse me, Ill go to my room to shower and change.
Of course, he said.
As she moved out, Dillon murmured, Are you okay?
She held up a bloodstained hand. As usual, not even shaking.
Just like in the Bible. The sword of the Lord and of Gideon.
Which doesnt help me in the slightest, she said, and went out.
Cazalet eased Dalton onto a chair and gave him some brandy to sip. Dillon poured champagne for himself and Ferguson, who said, God knows why were drinking this, but its a pity to waste good stuff.
Thats what I was thinking. Dillon toasted him.
Cazalet cut in: Did you two hear what the one she killed said to her?
Dillon nodded. A present from Osama, with regards from the Master.
It appears that Al Qaeda has found us, right here in Nantucket.
The Nightbird was of medium size, black in colour, the engine noise remarkably quiet. A dozen men in black overalls got out. The officer in charge, wearing the same black uniform, was calm and efficient.
Colonel Sam Caxton, Mr President. Well be treating this as a crime scene, although its not a police investigation. If you would, Id like you all to wait inside and two of my men will record interviews with you, both individually and together, to cover all the bases. We also have a doctor with us, just to check you all out.
Were at your service, Colonel, Cazalet said.
If you could move in, well get started. It goes without saying that were delighted to find you in one piece.
He went out, and Cazalet said to Dalton, How do you feel, Frank?
The vest Im wearing can stop a forty-four.
You deserve a medal, jumping in front of me like that.
Thats what Im paid to do, sir.
Cazalet clapped him on the shoulder. Lets all return to the kitchen and have a cup of coffee. Its going to be a long night.
On the Dolphin out at sea, the lights of Nantucket had faded when Kelly entered the wheelhouse with two mugs of tea and gave one to Tod, who was listening to a jazz trio.
Sounds good. Who is it? Kelly asked.
No idea. Its Nantucket local radio. I was waiting to hear if there were any news reports.
What are you going to tell the Master?
Ill think of something. He sighed. Probably better get it over with.
Id like to hear that, Kelly said. Put it on speaker.
In a moment, they were connected.
This is Tod Flynn.
Ive been waiting to hear from you. Are you still in Nantucket?
Were at sea. Couldnt contact the Chechens, and there didnt seem to be any sign of action at the Cazalet house. Nothing on local news, either, so I decided the smart thing to do was leave.
The Master cut in. Then I have news for you. Yanni and Khalid are dead, bagged, and waiting to be flown away.
Shocked, Tod made an instinctive response. Thats impossible. How could you know that?
Because I provided backup that even the Chechens did not know about. A woman sympathetic to our cause that I had in place. After I phoned you, I called her. She had seen you casting off to go to sea and smelled a rat, went after the Chechens herself, and was right behind when they entered Cazalets jungle of a garden. There was no time to warn them.
So what happened? Tod asked.
The Chechens were butchered. Dillon shot Khalid, and the Gideon woman stabbed Yanni with a knife. When a CIA black unit arrived by helicopter, she slipped away.
A hell of a cool customer, Tod said.
Yes, a remarkable lady but to business. Admit it, you were doing a runner. You never even attempted to warn those boys.
Okay, we were. We know Dillon from way back in the Troubles. Nobody messes with him, hes a killing machine and the Gideon woman is the same. If we had tried to find them, wed be lying dead next to the Chechens.