Yes, Id like you to look up Tod Flynns niece at the Royal College of Music. She interests me. It seems that when she was fourteen, she lost her parents to a car bomb on a trip to Ulster and was crippled.
Dear God, Lily said, genuinely shocked.
Her father was Flynns elder brother, Peter. Flynn became her legal guardian, and shes been raised by him and her great-aunt. I want to know more about her. Something tells me itll come in handy for keeping Mr Flynn in hand.
The usual file?
Exactly, now be on your way. God go with you.
She continued to walk at the waters edge, thinking of Pound Street Methodist Chapel, now converted to the mosque and the headquarters of the Army of God charity. She was a cockney girl who from childhood had only wanted to be a nurse, had qualified against the odds and then joined the Army Medical Corps. In the seven years that followed, one war after another had given her an unrivalled experience of the barbarism, the butchery, that people could inflict on one another.
In Bosnia, shed seen open graves with hundreds of Muslim bodies tumbled into them, as if the Nazis had returned to haunt Europe. In Kosovo, you had to get out of the ambulances to pull the corpses of mothers and their children to one side of the road so you could continue. In northern Lebanon, she had served with the Red Cross and UN with only a handful of soldiers to try to control the rape and pillage outside the mission hospital.
It was the only time shed fought, and that was in desperation, picking up a dead soldiers Browning pistol and emptying it into savage faces one after another, and then the trucks had roared up with the men and rifles. Al Qaeda, ruthlessly shooting wrongdoers, bringing order where there was none.
Two years later and out of the army, a nursing sister at the Cromwell Hospital in London, shed met the love of her life, Khalid Shah, a handsome Algerian charge nurse, married him, and theyd moved to the dispensary at Pound Street, where it became clear that he was a follower of Osama bin Laden.
It was a year later that the cruelty of life took him away from her, when Al Qaeda called him in for service in Gaza, an Israeli air strike a month later ensuring his stay was permanent. She couldnt hate Jews because of what had happened, for her dark secret, even from Khalid, was that she was only a Christian through her father, because her mother was a Jew and had married out. Hamid Bey, the imam at Pound Street Mosque, seemed a reasonable man, and as the dispensary was multi-faith, Lilys Christianity caused no problem. The fact that he also looked the other way where Al Qaeda was concerned was understandable, when one considered that the greater part of his congregation supported it. She had yet to realize that she was entirely wrong in her assessment of Hamid, a savage zealot, who supported the Cause as much as the Master.
As her husband Khalid had been very open about his dedication to Al Qaeda, Lily had, to a certain extent, been drawn in. After all, it was the ruthless actions of Al Qaeda in Lebanon, saving many lives, including her own, which had made it possible for the most important relationship of her life to take place. And when that had ended, the telephone call from the Master to commiserate had opened a door into what followed. When General Ali ben Levi had been killed, she had not wondered why the Masters voice had suddenly become different, for it was her place to serve without question.
But what had taken place here in Nantucket was like a bad dream that wouldnt go away and not like anything that had happened before. Not even like Lebanon and the massacre and the intervention of Al Qaeda, which had saved so many lives.
She glanced at her watch and saw the time. If she was going to catch the ferry, shed have to run. She slung her beach bag over her shoulder and started to do just that.
NEW YORK3
The helicopter was comfortable enough, three tables with bench seats around the windows and a room in the back for privacy, into which Cazalet and Ferguson vanished on boarding. A young man and woman were in attendance, wearing identical dark blue suits and ties, and they ushered Dillon and Sara to one of the tables, belted themselves up for takeoff, and afterwards indicated that coffee or tea and a selection of sandwiches were available.
Would there be anything stronger? Dillon asked the woman, her colleague having gone off to serve the back room. Like Bushmills, or would that be too much to ask?
Of course not, sir, we keep a full range of spirits. And you, Captain?
You must forgive my friend being so particular, but hes Irish and not as other men. Im probably being just as awkward by asking if you have any English breakfast tea.
There was the ghost of a smile as the woman said, Of course, Captain, I think I can manage that.
She returned with their drinks on a tray and served them, and Sara thanked her. There were three double miniatures on Dillons small tray, a glass, but no water. That should make you happy, Sara said as she poured her tea. Its almost as if she knows you.
Dillon had opened his first miniature as she spoke, poured it, and tossed it down. Maybe she does, he said as he opened another.
I dont understand you, Sean, Sara said. You were fine earlier when you came to tell me youd had a word with Roper and so on, but now youre in another place. She drank some of her tea. You seemed okay when you went off to have a walk on the beach, but since then, not even a smile. Whats wrong? Are you upset about something?
You mean like shooting a guy three times in the head last night? Why should I let a little thing like that bother me? You, on the other hand, the sword of the Lord and of Gideon. He picked up the third miniature, started to open it, and slammed it down.
Sara reached over and put her hand on his. What is it, love? This isnt you. Just tell me. Its what friends are for.
Damn you, Sara, for being so bloody nice. Im truly sorry, but lets leave it. If youll excuse me, Im going to the toilet.
She sat there thinking about it, thoroughly worried, then he returned fifteen minutes later, a fresh face on him, hair combed. He smiled. If I do that again, punch me in the mouth. I dont usually stress up that easily, but I seem to have done so this trip.
Not that she believed him, but she couldnt take the matter any further when the young man appeared from the back room and told them that Cazalet wanted to see them.
It was comfortably furnished, some chairs clamped to the floor, a desk, a large television screen, a computer. Cazalet sat behind the desk, Ferguson to one side. Ferguson said, Well be in New York pretty soon, so this is the last chance for the four of us to discuss whats happening. Sit down.
Which they did, and Cazalet said, The President has decided to be guided by the CIA in this matter, and their advice is this. They agree that the attack was sponsored by Al Qaeda, but they want to keep it under wraps. Theyll immediately start investigating, but want to keep Al Qaeda off balance by not saying a word about it publicly. All theyll know is that Im obviously alive and walking around. Al Qaeda wont know what to make of it, wont know what did occur.
Only that their two assassins have gone missing? Sara nodded. That makes for an interesting situation.
Only that their two assassins have gone missing? Sara nodded. That makes for an interesting situation.
Well, they love their martyrs, Ferguson said. We all know that, so handled this way, it denies AQ the oxygen of publicity.
Cazalet said, Maybe theyll slip up, make a mistake, try to communicate with each other. Thats helped us before. Cazalet smiled grimly. And we have a lot of drones.
Which still requires us to know where the bastards are in the first place, Dillon said. To be able to score.
There was a slight pause. Sara glanced at Dillon, then said, Thank you for being so clear, sir.
Very weird. Dillon shook his head. We were in New York at the UN to discuss the Husseini affair with the British ambassador, then got yanked out for an evening with you, and it was that which screwed up Al Qaedas plan. Im surprised they didnt get wind of our trip to Nantucket. The UNs a sieve, all those countries crammed into that building on the East River. Dont tell me Al Qaeda doesnt have its fingers in that pie.
That may be, Ferguson said. The point is how we handle it now. Ive had word from London. It seems the President has spoken to the Prime Minister, who has agreed to all this but with some reluctance. So that settles it. As far as the public is concerned, none of this ever happened.
He turned to Dillon. Have you anything to say? You usually do.
About the dream I had last night? Its fading rapidly.
Go on, back to your seats. We need a last few words together, dont we, sir? he said to Cazalet.
Dillon and Sara turned to go. He had his hand on the door handle when Cazalet called, Just a moment, you two.
They turned, and Sara said, Yes, sir, was there something else?
Yes. Cazalet was smiling. Very private and between us. Frankly, I dont give a damn about the CIA. Thank God you were there last night. Its people like you who guard the wall for all of us, and I, for one, am extremely grateful.
There was a silent moment as his words sank in, and then Sara smiled and said, Its been a privilege to serve, Mr President, and she followed Dillon out.
Later that day, in the Gulfstream heading home, Ferguson stayed towards the front of the cabin video-conferencing while Flight Lieutenant Parry moved along from the cockpit, visited the kitchen area, and came out with coffee.
Weve got some storms threatening in the mid-Atlantic, so make sure you belt up if you go to sleep. And he looked a little uncomfortable could you advise Dillon to watch his drinking?
He and Sara exchanged a look, then he moved back towards the cockpit. She reached up to a locker and found a couple of blankets, and Dillon, whod been to the toilet, returned with a glass in one hand. She tossed one blanket to him and draped herself in the other.
Id be careful with your booze intake, Sean, she advised. Rough weather forecast.
They sat with their backs against the rear bulkhead on either side of the aisle, and he touched her. Just the one, and then Ill probably have a sleep.
So youve still got problems?
As a matter of fact, Ive been thinking about what Cazalet said about people like us guarding the wall.
That was a fine thing for him to say, but then hes a fine man.
I agree, but it made me feel ashamed.
She frowned. But why should it do that?
Oh, not living up to the image, in my case allowing a mental aberration to cloud my judgment, but I see sense now. Ive been wrong, but at least when you see you have, you can put it right.
Are you going to talk to Ferguson about it?
Eventually, but I need to consult Roper first.
Ferguson switched off the screen, turned, and called to them, Thats it for me. Im taking a pill. With any luck, Ill sleep through to Farley Field, and he pulled out a blanket and settled down.
Sara lowered her voice. Come on, Sean, whats going on?
Well I believe I know the identity of two people involved in the Nantucket business.
She was astonished. But you havent said a word of this to anyone. Why not?
Theres an Irish connection, a question of mistaken loyalty to family on my part. It has to do with the death of my father in Belfast in 1979, when he blundered into a firefight with British paratroopers and was killed. I can see now I was wrong. It will be put right, thats all that counts. God knows what Ferguson will do, but Ill take that as it comes.
Sean, what are you talking about?
Well, if youll shut up for a while, girl dear, Ill tell you, Dillon said. In my early years in Collyban, my father in London trying to make a place for us, I was raised by my uncle, Mickeen Oge Flynn. His son Tod and I were like brothers. We tackled the old upright in the front parlour together, learned to play passable barroom piano, accompanied by our friend, Tim Kelly, on clarinet. A boy with a real gift, believe me. Then I went to London and got involved with the theatre, as you know.
Sean, what on earth has this to do with anything?
It has to do with everything, Dillon said. Be patient. What with the Troubles, we just kept in touch with the family by phone from London, and I knew that Tod and Tim Kelly had made something of their music, played in bars and clubs, and it was Uncle Mickeen who phoned me with the news of my fathers death. He said that nobody from Collyban would be going up to Belfast for the funeral, as it would be too dangerous.
Sara said, And I imagine he thought the same for you.
I suppose so, but I told him Id be there, and he said he ought to warn me that Tod and Kelly, who were going to take care of the funeral, were Provisional IRA and on the run as far as the army and police were concerned.
Sara shook her head. So, needless to say, you went?
A rushed flight, Belfast greeted me with pouring rain. Taxis were available, though expensive. I was dropped at St Mary the Virgin Church in Samson Street near the docks. Three vans had men standing around them under umbrellas, watching. I hurried through a decaying graveyard and entered the church.
And what did you find?
It was like most of them, half dark, burning candles, an effigy of Mary and the Christ child by the door. I remember putting my fingers in the holy water habit, I suppose. There was the aisle between the pews towards the altar, a closed coffin on trestles, an old priest in a cassock, no vestments. Tod stood there, obviously startled by the door opening, a Browning ready, and Tim Kelly was opposite, a clarinet in his hands.
God in heaven, youve come. Tod stepped forward and gave me a hug.
Its where I should be, I told him, But there are vans outside, and we seem to be attracting attention.
UVF Protestant bastards, Kelly told me. Theyd hang the lot of us if they could.
Never mind that now, Tod said. Father Murphys done with his prayers and will see to the burial with the sexton after weve gone. It only remains for Tims tribute.
Tribute? Sara said. What was that?
My father had a favourite old Irish folk song, The Lark in the Clear Air, and the sound of that clarinet played in the Gershwin style, soaring up to the roof, was the most poignant thing Id ever heard, has remained with me forever. There were voices outside, but the music stilled them. There was a moment of silence as Kelly finished then a brick came in through a window. Tod pulled a Smith & Wesson revolver out of his pocket and pushed it into my hand. Id done a training course on the use of weapons on stage.