The words swam in front of his eyes. All he could see was the film they had shown him of Karza. Help me, brother. Before, he had been quick to dismiss him and his absurd delusions of being a warrior. Now, for the first time he could remember, he began to think of him differently. In the past, he had never had any reason to admire him. Now he saw that each of them in their own very different ways had gone searching for meaning, for validation, to do something that made a difference. And here he was and there Karza was.
He thought about throwing himself on the mercy of Pippa. She had been very understanding. They would want to avoid a scandal. And they had rich donors. Or just go to the Foreign Office. No! How could he be so naïve? He thought of his mother seeing the footage he had been shown, the last sight of her son alive, pleading for her other son to help him. He would have to do something… but what?
He became aware of the other passengers looking at him. A girl reading a Kindle seemed to be frowning. An elderly red-faced man was also looking askance at him, as if Sam himself was the enemy. Was this tolerant country, which had welcomed him with open arms, now turning against him?
50
When he got back to the flat the door of the big bedroom was shut. He went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up, then made himself a coffee. In an hour he had to be at Party Headquarters for a briefing with Vernon Rolt, the man from the organization called Invicta which had been bombed. But he couldn’t think about anything other than Karza and the dreadful situation they both now found themselves in. His head throbbed painfully. He had only wanted to help. Now catastrophe was just around the corner and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.
He was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, staring into his mug, when the bedroom door opened and Nasima appeared in a trouser suit and hijab. He turned away. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and converging under his chin. His nose was running. He didn’t want her to see that, to see his helplessness. But she came up close, put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him towards her. His tear-stained face pressed against her chest for several comforting seconds until she gently moved him away.
She listened in silence while he told her what had happened. He didn’t know who they were or where they had taken him but there was no question about the video. After this she was quiet for some time. He felt himself sinking back to the frame of mind he had been in during his visit to his mother. He should never have agreed to try and help Karza. And judging by the blankness of Nasima’s gaze, he could not expect any sympathy from her.
‘Maybe I should go to the Foreign Office.’
Her face was like thunder. ‘Are you crazy? This group is classed as a terrorist organization — both here and in America. And your position with the Party would be compromised.’
She looked away, as if what she was about to say pained her deeply. Then she nodded thoughtfully. ‘It’s a lot. And it’s nonnegotiable. Now they know someone’s looking for him, they will at least keep him alive. But because they don’t have any support from the West, they have to ration their medical supplies. Don’t imagine they will look after him indefinitely. So we have to do something fast.’
Sam pushed the cup away. He felt sick. The thought of his brother, and then his mother, shook him to the core.
‘Plus the cost of transport. Depending on his condition we might have to airlift him back, which could add another half-million.’
She waited while Sam digested this, her eyes trained on his face. He felt stupid. It hadn’t occurred to him that any kind of payment would be demanded, let alone a ransom. He hadn’t given it any thought.
‘What do you think you want to do, Sam?’
This time her whole attitude was different. None of the flirting that he was sure he had detected last time. She was direct, business-like.
‘I don’t know where I could get that kind of money.’
The thought came back into his head that he could ask his new employers, after all — or maybe one of their funders. No, no, that was too naïve, and what would they think of him if they knew about Karza? He wasn’t about to jeopardize his new status with the revelation that his brother was a jihadi. He felt desperation pressing down on him.
‘I have to find a way. I don’t have any choice.’
It had just the right effect. Her face softened. She took his hands. ‘I know how hard it is when there’s only one option, believe me. A brother is a brother.’
It was the nice Nasima again, the sympathetic friend who might one day be something more.
‘You should go. You mustn’t miss your meeting.’ She wrapped him in her arms, then held his face apart from her and kissed his forehead. ‘There may be something, some other way of doing this. I have some contacts, sympathetic people who may give us advice. Go on, go. Whatever happens, you mustn’t let this get in the way of your job.’
51
Tom drove because he had had less to drink. After eighteen hours awake he was relying on the adrenalin to deal with any fatigue.
‘They’re real bad, that’s for sure.’
‘How bad?’
‘Remember Timothy McVeigh, the Oklahoma bomber? That bad. One part Nazi, one part Survivalist, three parts fuck-brain. Their target’s a building downtown.’
‘What is it?’
‘It belongs to some associate of Stutz’s.’
‘Who?’
Kyle shrugged. ‘That’s not for us to know. We just do the job. We don’t get the whole scoop. But we have all their moves from Skip’s surveillance. They’re all ex-National Guard and crazy gun freaks. Jefferson’s the leader, supposedly, but he ain’t too bright. We’ll be paying him a visit at his trailer. He’s OTH — other than honourable discharge from the Marines. He didn’t make the grade. He’s a loner, no personal life, spends a lot of time honing his shooting skills. And he’s the designated asset of a local chapter of neo-Nazis. He’s got no idea we’re coming.’
From the back of the van, he produced a Glock 9mm with a titanium suppressor and an extended twenty-round magazine.
At a set of traffic-lights, Tom racked back the top slide to check the chamber and make sure it was empty. He wouldn’t ask if the rounds in the mag were subsonic. If they weren’t, the suppressor was useless — but of course they would be. He had just got the weapon from Kyle.
‘Keep it, at least while you’re with us. It’ll help you sleep nice and peaceful too.’
He directed them on to the Loop going east, then north on the 45 towards Conroe. Tom needed to find out how prepared he was, without appearing to question his judgement. He kept his eyes on the road.
‘You recced the place?’
‘Yep. It’s pretty secluded, next to the lake. There’s a few other trailers, trees and scrub, plenty of cover. Easy.’
Tom could see Kyle was nervy, pumped. Had he thought this through? ‘You want to be a little more specific?’
‘I’m saying relax, the set-up’s fine. Jefferson’s routine’s pretty standard. This time of day he’ll have had a few beers and some weed so he’ll be nice and mellow. He doesn’t have any reason to believe he’s under threat so shouldn’t be thinking he’s expecting anyone.’