CHAPTER 8
‘Good morning. Here are the BBC news headlines at seven o’clock…’
Girling pulled the pillow over his head to block out the news reader’s voice. He could have used a week’s extra sleep.
‘There has been a vital breakthrough in the hunt for the terrorists who carried out the Beirut massacre two nights ago and the simultaneous kidnapping of the US Ambassador to Saudi Arabia and nine of his staff.
The words barely registered. It was publication day. There were another seven days before the next edition of Dispatches hit the streets. Today he could have slept, but he had forgotten to reset the radio-alarm and it was too far away to turn off.
At the back of his mind, however, a voice told him to listen. He was no longer merely Tom Girling, Science and Technology Correspondent. Beirut was his story now.
‘According to a report in Dispatches, the authoritative weekly current-affairs magazine, the attack was the work of an extreme Islamic terrorist organization called the Angels of Judgement…’
Girling lifted the pillow off his head. That was their story. Stansell had called back with confirmation. He was pleased. Pleased for Stansell; and pleased for Kelso. Their editor had found his exclusive at the eleventh hour and then some.
And now the Angels of Judgement were making the lead spot on the national news. No doubt, it was enjoying similar billing with other media outlets. The wire agencies would have picked it up; Reuters, the Associated Press, Agence France Presse… all flashing the news around the world. And Dispatches’ name was up there, too, in lights.
Girling smiled. Kelso, the survivor, had his big stick for the meeting. Lord Kyle could not possibly shut them down now, could he?
‘We have this report from Douglas Kennedy…’
Girling listened as the principal facts of the story he had written the night before from the nuggets Stansell had provided were churned out by the radio reporter. That the BBC had credited Dispatches so generously did not surprise him. The magazine had a very competent publicity machine that was ready to disseminate its best stories to the mass media in return for a hefty acknowledgement.
The line trotted out in the report was that the Angels of Judgement seemed to be a new breed of terror organization. Independent of larger groups like the PLO and Hizbollah, they were resourceful, dedicated, and furnished with the necessary funds to carry through a complex operation like Beirut. Worst of all, no one knew where they had come from.
It was then that Kelso himself came over the air-waves. His voice conveyed a sense of gravitas that befitted the story. Even if Dispatches was able only to cite ‘diplomatic sources in Cairo’ as its primary informant, Kelso’s deep and sombre tone gave it an unquestionable authority. The interview had been recorded over the telephone, probably late the previous night. Girling could hear the self-satisfaction in his editor’s voice. Kelso was enjoying himself.
‘Our exclusive report highlights a number of interesting points,’ Kelso said pompously. ‘The ability of a hitherto unknown group of terrorists to strike with seeming impunity at innocent civilians, despite recent assurances by Western governments, is particularly alarming. Secondly, so-called experts in other sections of the media have been labouring under the misapprehension that a substantial Middle Eastern power such as Iran or Libya was behind this incident. Our report has shown this not to be the case. The Angels of Judgement are very much on their own…’
The interviewer asked Kelso to elaborate.
‘Well, from newspaper reports earlier this week — reports that were confirmed by members of my staff, by the way — we know that the US Air Force was ready to launch a punitive strike against the perpetrators of the Beirut operation — not unlike Reagan’s venture against Libya in 1986. The fact they didn’t was underlined by the revelation that they had no idea who they were meant to be bombing. That information was to have been obtained when special forces stormed the airliner to rescue the hostages, we understand. But, tragically, the Angels of Judgement acted before a rescue operation was given a chance.’
‘Would you care to comment on yesterday’s reports that the terrorists and their captives have given US forces the slip?’ the reporter asked Kelso. ‘We gather you have independent corroboration.’
It sounded spontaneous, but Girling knew that the questions would have been rehearsed. Kelso had been furnished with all the answers he needed following the visit to Tech-Int.
‘Absolutely,’ Kelso said. ‘Sources within our own Ministry of Defence, which is collaborating closely with the Americans, have confirmed that the boat in which they escaped has completely disappeared.’
‘Despite the massive sea search?’ the reporter probed.
‘I’m afraid the Angels of Judgement have been one step ahead of Western intelligence all the way. It’s a political embarrassment, not to mention a tragedy.’
‘A tragedy, indeed,’ the BBC’s studio anchorman said at the conclusion of the bulletin. ‘Robert Kelso, editor of Dispatches, ending that report by Douglas Kennedy.’
Girling climbed out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Outside, it was still dark. Inside, the flat was bloody cold. He had no sooner filled the kettle than the phone rang.
‘Tom?’
Sally Gordon-Jones of Channel 4 News was quick off the mark. He saw her from time to time in the circus of press conferences, interviews and briefings that went with the job. Although a general reporter, she quite often covered science and defence-related subjects.
Girling carried the phone over to the coffee pot and tipped a spoonful of powder into a cup.
‘I just heard Dispatches’ piece about the hijackers on the radio,’ she said. ‘Was that for real?’
‘Kelso’s going to look pretty stupid if it’s not.’ He paused. ‘I’m joking, of course, Sally. Yes, it’s for real.’
‘Humour at this hour,’ she said in mock admiration. ‘Who filed the piece?’
The kettle wheezed dismally. Girling willed it to boil so he could take his coffee back to bed. ‘Stansell,’ he said. ‘Out of Cairo.’
‘The great Stansell. It has impeccable credentials, then.’
‘Sally, I’m freezing my nuts off. Please get to the point.’
‘Well, we wanted Kelso in the studio to record a piece for tonight’s news. But apparently he’s not available.’
Naturally enough, Girling thought. Today was Kelso’s big day with the board.
‘We were wondering if you’d mind substituting as the talking head, Tom.’
‘Why me?’
‘Kelso’s office said you helped put the story together.’
He thought about it. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘We’re getting a Middle East expert in to talk about the rise of independent terrorist groups like the Angels of Judgement. What we really need is some-one to explain how they were able to disappear into thin air. Technicalities being your forte, naturally I thought of you.’
‘Sally, like a good many people right now, I haven’t got a clue.’
‘You must have some idea how they evaded all those US Navy radar planes. Speculate a little.’
‘OK. It’s your money.’
‘Thanks, Tom. By the way, are you always this grouchy in the morning?’
‘Only when I’m standing half-naked in a cold kitchen unable to make my first cup of coffee because some strange woman is asking me to appear on TV.’