‘A fimfop?’ queried the Cabinet Secretary.
‘Fun In the Mess, Fool Operationally. I can assure you that Captain Davenport is not a man Khalifah will want to meet.’
‘Under what conditions is Khalifah being held at this moment?’ asked the Prime Minister, looking around the table, not sure who would be able to answer her question.
‘He’s currently locked up in the solitary confinement wing of Belmarsh prison,’ said William. ‘He has no way of contacting anyone on the outside, but I think we can assume he’s well aware of what’s going on.’
Everyone around the table turned and looked at William.
‘Throwing away the key would seem an appropriate response given the circumstances,’ said the Home Secretary.
‘I only wish it was that easy,’ said the Prime Minister. ‘But for now, I suggest we all get to work and try to look as if it’s business as usual. I don’t have to remind you that it’s imperative the press don’t get hold of the story.’
‘And if they do?’ asked the PM’s Press Secretary.
‘I’ll slap a D-notice on every printing press in Fleet Street,’ said the Attorney General, without hesitation.
‘What if a foreign source finds out the Princess has been kidnapped?’ was the Press Secretary’s second question. ‘You can’t slap anything on them.’
‘If that were to happen, Bernard, prepare a statement for me,’ said the Prime Minister, just as the door burst open and her private secretary came rushing into the room and handed the PM a note. She opened it and read the short message out loud. ‘A Nimrod has located Lowlander, and you’re right, Admiral,’ she said, looking up at the First Sea Lord. ‘They’re heading east-south-east at around seventeen knots.’
‘So it has to be Tripoli,’ said the Foreign Secretary.
‘Which means we’ve got,’ said the Prime Minister, checking her watch, ‘about forty-seven hours before I have no choice but to accept a call from Colonel Gaddafi and negotiate from a very weak position.’ She looked around the table. ‘That’s something I want to avoid,’ she said firmly. ‘Whatever the cost.’
Chapter 33
When the SBS dive supervisor got the call from the ops commander at Faslane, he steadied his boat and loaded a diver recall device before dropping it into the water. It sank below the waves, exploding moments later to alert the divers of M Squadron to return to the surface immediately. Within seconds, a dozen rubber-clad bodies appeared above the waves and began racing each other to the safety boat. They didn’t need to be told it was an emergency, because they could see two faster vessels heading at speed towards them.
The order was simple. Return to the base at Coulport, get out of your dive kit and be ready to board a helicopter in twenty minutes. Anyone not on the helipad by then will be left behind. ‘Left behind’ were the only two words the ops commander repeated.
By the time the last of M Squadron reached the helipad at Coulport, the blades of the third helicopter were already rotating, waiting to lift off and, like the other two, be on their way back to SBS headquarters in Poole. No one missed the flight.
‘Are they terrorists or pirates?’ asked Victoria, trying not to show how anxious she felt.
‘Terrorists,’ said Ross, without hesitation. ‘Let’s just hope the pirates are already working out how to rescue us.’
‘Is it money they’re after?’ asked Victoria. ‘Because if it is, surely all they’ll have to do is negotiate the amount with the government?’
‘I don’t think this lot are interested in money.’
‘What else could they possibly want?’
‘Mansour Khalifah. The Libyan terrorist behind the Lockerbie bombing, who’s currently locked up in Belmarsh. He’s Colonel Gaddafi’s right-hand man, and as we’re currently heading south-east, I guess our next port of call is likely to be Tripoli.’
‘As you hardly slept a wink last night, Inspector, do you have a plan to get us out of here?’ Victoria said as she walked out and looked across at Diana’s balcony, but there was no sign of her.
Ross joined her on the balcony, looked around, and announced, ‘I didn’t get one of these,’ not wanting her to dwell on the one subject that was preoccupying both of them.
‘Understandably, Inspector,’ she replied, giving him a hint of a smile, ‘but then it’s not often I’m forced to spend the night with one of the below-stairs staff. Do you have any other reason to believe it might be Libya we’re heading for?’ she added, not letting him off the hook.
‘When we were out in the corridor last night, I heard one of Chalabi’s henchmen say “the Colonel”, and then he raised a fist in triumph. But wherever we’re headed, my first priority is to protect the Princess.’
‘That won’t be easy. In any case, we’re probably in more danger than she is.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘If you’re right about them wanting Khalifah in exchange for the Princess, their only hope of getting him released will be to make sure they don’t sacrifice their queen. Though they may be quite happy to remove a few pawns from the board, even the odd castle, which would account for those four shots we heard last night. It might also help the politicians in Whitehall to make up their minds. That’s assuming your pirates fail to turn up on time.’
‘You’d have made a good detective,’ said Ross. ‘So, what do you think their next move is likely to be?’
‘We won’t find that out until whoever Chalabi is planning to contact in London wakes up, which might not be for another hour or more. So, what should we do until then?’
‘We could always go back to bed,’ teased Ross, trying to keep her mind off what he feared she was really thinking about.
‘I must confess,’ said Victoria, ‘I had considered several scenarios in which that might happen, but being forced to spend the night with you by a group of terrorists who needed a spare room wasn’t high on the list. Frankly, I think you should be more concerned about the latest woman in your life,’ she said, pointing in the direction of the upper deck. ‘And with all your experience of the opposite sex, Inspector, I’d be fascinated to know what you make of her?’
‘She’s clearly ruthless and efficient. The whole operation was well planned, so she’ll know exactly what her next move is. But one thing she might not have anticipated is that there was a paparazzi photographer on the beach when they took over the yacht last night, and he had one thing in common with me,’ said Ross. ‘He never let the Princess out of his sight.’
‘So the morning papers might already have the story on their front pages.’
‘Not if he’s dead. I heard a single shot fired last night from a high-powered rifle, not from the gun that killed the other five,’ said Ross as he peered up at the sky through the porthole.
‘What are you looking for?’ asked Victoria.
‘I’m not looking, I’m listening. Once they realize back in London that the Princess has been kidnapped, there’ll be a Nimrod somewhere up there trying to locate exactly where we are.’
‘But won’t the terrorists see it, and be alerted?’
‘The pilot will make sure he stays high enough to be out of sight. And believe me, they’re well capable of pinpointing a dolphin from twenty miles away, let alone a seventy-metre yacht.’
‘Even if they do find us, what can they hope to do?’
‘Every government agency will move into top gear, but it’ll be the SBS who mount the rescue operation. Their biggest problem will be that they’ll only have a limited window before we reach Libyan territorial waters.’
‘Not exactly where the Princess had in mind to spend her summer holiday.’