Roper said, So where s he off to now, that s the thing.
I think Colonel Hamza might be helpful there.
He s certainly come up trumps so far, Roper said.
The Prime Minister s going to be furious, especially about Harry being shot, Ferguson said.
As long as it doesn t kill you, there s always a slightly heroic thing about taking a bullet, Roper told him. I ve been there, remember, before the bomb? On top of that, the PM will enjoy being able to say I told you so.
Which I don t look forward to at all.
So what happens now? Will you call him personally, or do you want me to speak to Henry Frankel at the Cabinet Office?
Well, at least that would be following protocol, and it would give me time to get my act together here for the return home. You don t mind?
Why should I? It will quite make his day. Henry loves being the bearer of bad news.
Not long after leaving Amira in the Raptor, Ali Selim spoke to the chief pilot of the Hawker that had delivered him to Peshawar after his flight from London. It had been waiting at Peshawar Airport while he considered his next move.
Having discussed where the Raptor should meet the Hawker, he stood and leaned up to the flight deck, where the pilot, Omar, sat alone. He gave him a destination and flight instructions, then sat down again.
Thirty minutes later, they came to a village in ruins named Herat, a crumbling runway beside it, a concrete control tower and some flat-roofed buildings. It was a relic of the Russian occupation, totally uninviting, no signs of life, brooding in the rain as if waiting for something.
The Raptor was different from the other two in that there was no machine gun and only the one pilot. Omar was a young and energetic man in his twenties, in a brown flying jacket and jeans. He was obviously overawed by Ali Selim, who told him to land by the tower and switch off.
Ibrahim stayed impassive, a sinister figure in dark robes, an AK-47 beside him, a bulging bag at his feet. Ali Selim took a book from his briefcase and read, and Omar, on the flight deck, stirred uneasily.
Finally, Ali Selim looked up and said, If you want to smoke, do it outside. Go now, I can t abide your twitching.
Yes, master. Omar scrambled down, slid back the door, dropped to the runway, then ran through the rain to stand in the doorway of the control tower, where he lit a cigarette.
There was the sound of an engine approaching, and the gold Hawker dropped in below gray clouds, descending through the heavy rain, rolling to the end of the runway, turning and taxiing toward them, and stopping some little distance away. Omar hurried back to the Raptor, the airstair door opened on the Hawker, and a uniformed pilot came down, opening a large umbrella.
A handsome, bronzed-faced Arab, he smiled and inclined his head.
It is an honor to see you again, he said to Ali Selim.
Good to see you, Abdul, but get me inside, this rain bothers me. He ignored Omar but nodded to Ibrahim, went off with Abdul to the Hawker, and followed him up the steps.
Omar said, Where do I go now?
Inside, and I ll tell you, Ibrahim said.
Omar pulled himself into the Raptor, turned, and Ibrahim, already holding a Beretta in his right hand, shot him in the head, knocking him back into the hold. He opened the bag, took out a magnesium night flare, pulled the toggle, and tossed it inside. As the flames took hold, he turned and hurried to the Hawker, went up the steps where Abdul waited, and ducked inside. He sat down on the opposite side of the cabin from his master and waited.
Ali Selim looked up from his book. Captain Feisal has had a word. We can forget winter in northern Afghanistan. In Rubat it s hot, with enough sun to satisfy even you.
Ibrahim made no reply, simply nodded, clicked his seat belt into place, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
In London, Owen Rashid, unable to sleep, was sitting by the terrace window in his dressing gown, a glass of red wine by his hand, as he worked his way through a report on the current finances of Rashid Oil.
When he answered the phone, Ali Selim said, This is Abu. Were you asleep?
A touch of insomnia. What can I do for you?
I m just letting you know the game is afoot again isn t that the English phrase? Ferguson and his people are on their way back to London. This Sara Gideon has become very important, not only to me but to Ali Selim and to Al Qaeda.
So what do you want from me?
Warn the Frenchman and Kelly that I m particularly interested in Gideon. I want them on her case.
So what do you want from me?
Warn the Frenchman and Kelly that I m particularly interested in Gideon. I want them on her case.
Can I ask why?
Not at the moment. One of my assets has left you a package in the glove compartment of your Mercedes. It contains several ampoules of Seconal.
What on earth would I need that stuff for?
All in good time, Owen. Put Legrande and Kelly to work, and I ll be back in touch very soon.
So he was gone, leaving Owen Rashid more frustrated than he had ever felt before.
When the Raptor landed at Peshawar in front of the Hussein Air hangar, Hamid was waiting beside a military ambulance for Miller, who was stretchered and put in the back and taken away, accompanied by Ferguson and Hamza.
At the hospital, the two of them sat in the waiting room, drinking tea and discussing what had happened. One thing is certain, if you ll allow me to make a point, Hamza said.
Ali Selim must have an agenda.
I couldn t agree more, Ferguson said, but before he could carry on, a gray-haired and rather distinguished-looking man in green scrubs came in.
Well, my boy, how are you?
Very well, sir. Hamza turned to Ferguson.
Brigadier Mahmud is my uncle. This is Major General Ferguson.
Mahmud shook his hand. How interesting all this becomes, General. But I am just a simple surgeon who knows his place, so I ask no questions. Major Miller has been patched up for the moment, pumped full of drugs and sedated. He should survive a flight by private jet, but will need the best of treatment at the earliest possible moment.
I promise he ll get it. We re very grateful. Ferguson shook his hand.
Happy to help, Mahmud said. And you, Nephew, remember where we live. Your aunt thinks you ve forgotten.
At that moment a comatose Miller was wheeled out, and they followed him down the corridor and outside to the ambulance, where he was lifted inside by two male nurses. Hamza and Ferguson joined him and the ambulance drove away.
The Gulfstream was waiting outside the hangar, and Lacey and Parry supervised the careful loading of Miller into the cabin. They were all there now.
Ferguson said, Time to go, people, but not before thanking Colonel Hamza for conduct far above the call of duty, and Captain Slay for some extraordinary flying. He gave Slay a package. It s a bit late in the day, but here s one of our nylon-and-titanium vests with our appreciation.
Slay smiled and took it. One never knows.
Ferguson shook his hand. So Hamza s arranged a lift back to Hazar for you?
Yes, all taken care of. All I can say is it s been an amazing couple of days and I wouldn t have missed them for anything, Slay said. Watch your backs, you lot.
He walked across to where Hamid waited and was driven away. The others said their good-byes to Hamza and boarded, leaving him and Ferguson alone.
Our governments may sometimes disagree, Ferguson said. But in the world we inhabit today, it s vital for us to keep in touch. What we ve just been through together proves that. It was good working with you, Colonel.
And you, General. And I have one last piece of information. Ali Selim s plane left an hour and a half ago with a flight plan for Bahrain. Only the two pilots on board.
I m sure Roper will find that useful. Ferguson shook hands. Take care, my friend.
He turned, went up the steps to where Parry waited, and went inside. As Hamza turned away, the Gulfstream started to move.
It rose to thirty thousand feet and turned northwest, still climbing into a darkening sky. Ferguson sat on his own at one end of the cabin and talked to Roper by Skype. He told him of his final conversation with Hamza.
I ll put a trace on that jet and I ll try and do something about the Raptor helicopter Ali Selim cleared off in, Roper said. How s Harry?
Out for the count, thanks to the medication Brigadier Mahmud gave him. It s all a bit subdued on the plane at the moment, but, then, night flights usually are. Walking on eggshells around a wounded man makes it even more so. Any word from Downing Street?
I believe the Prime Minister was speaking in the House today. Maybe Henry s not been able to give him the bad news yet.
Damn Frankel, Ferguson said. He s enjoying my humiliation.
Don t be so silly, Roper told him.
If he was, it would mean he was treating Harry s being wounded unimportant, which is rubbish. This damn operation was a complete failure. We couldn t lay hands on Ali Selim, and every one of our people had to kill to survive. It was like a bad day in Afghanistan. You re lucky we got away with just one wounded man.
Good God, Giles, Ferguson said. You re angry with me?
You re damn right I am, Roper said.
So go and get yourself a large Scotch and shut up.
He logged off, the screen cleared, and Ferguson sat there, completely deflated. God help me, I m getting old, he said softly, turned to get up, and found Sara holding out a glass of whiskey.
I heard, she said. Try not to take it to heart. But he was right, you know. A lot of people died so we could be here. If it weren t for Greg Slay and Hamza well, they saved the day.
The way I heard it, you, Daniel, and Dillon were into it up to your necks, too. But there you are. He toasted her.
My sincere thanks.
She turned and went back to Harry Miller, tucked in his blanket, then sat beside Holley, who lay back, eyes closed.
An hour later, a signal beeped and the screen flickered into life again, bringing Ferguson awake from his doze to find Henry Frankel on his screen.
Ah, there you are, Charles.
So what do you want? Ferguson asked.
The Prime Minister would like a word. Frankel smiled. If you can spare him one.
He was replaced by the PM sitting at his desk, who said, A bad business, Charles.
It was impossible to argue with that, and Ferguson said, I m afraid so.
How we play this with the newspapers is beyond me, the Prime Minister said. They ll be wanting a statement in the House. I can see the headlines now.