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.