— in Madrid, in London, in Algiers, in Yemen.’
‘And what the Americans did to Bin Laden is going to make it worse, right? It makes him the ultimate martyr.’
‘I would think so,’ said Shepherd. ‘Killing him was never going to stop al-Qaeda. It’s not like a snake that you can kill by chopping off the head. It’s more like a cancer where the more you attack the tumour, the more cancerous cells you release.’
‘So why don’t the people at the top realise that?’ asked Chaudhry. ‘If it’s that obvious to you and me, why did Bush invade Iraq? Iraq, which wasn’t even an al-Qaeda stronghold. In fact Saddam hated al-Qaeda more than the West did.’
Shepherd shook his head. ‘I’m nothing to do with policy,’ he said. ‘I’m an Indian surrounded by chiefs.’ He smiled. ‘No offence.’
Chaudhry wagged a finger at him. ‘You don’t want to be confusing a Pakistani with an Indian,’ he said. ‘Even in jest.’
‘Not good?’
Chaudhry grinned. ‘Let’s just say it could end in tears. Me, I’m a Brit first and a Pakistani second, so it’s water off a duck’s back. But even my dad gets upset if he’s mistaken for an Indian, and he’s as laid back as they come.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
Chaudhry sighed. ‘Anyway, the answer to my question — why did the US invade Iraq? — you know why, right? Bush Senior couldn’t take Saddam down so his son did, the first chance he got. It was nothing to do with al- Qaeda and nothing to do with terrorism. And now look at the state the world’s in.’ He sighed again. ‘We’re screwed, aren’t we? The West? No matter how this works out.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Shepherd.
‘We stop Khalid and we stop Lateef and Faisal. We arrest everyone and they all go to prison. But there’ll be others to take their place, won’t there? They’re already being recruited, right now. Kids and teenagers are being groomed to be the new shahid. Who’s going to stop them?’
‘Hopefully there’ll be someone like you who’ll do the right thing,’ said Shepherd.
Chaudhry sneered. ‘That’s not much of a plan, is it?’
‘Fair point,’ said Shepherd. ‘But that’s the way it is, unfortunately. Back in 1984, before you were born, the IRA almost killed Margaret Thatcher, the prime minister. They blew up the hotel she was staying in, along with half her cabinet. She was pulled from the wreckage and the IRA released a statement saying that she was lucky and that she would have to continue to be lucky. But the IRA had to be lucky only once. That’s the situation we’re in now. We need to be lucky all the time.’
‘And like I said, that’s not much of a plan.’
‘The security services are on full alert and they will be for the foreseeable future,’ said Shepherd. ‘There’s a lot of surveillance going on; internet chatter and emails are monitored; GCHQ eavesdrop on phone calls. We’ve got CCTV, we’ve got all sorts of technological advantages that the terrorists don’t have, and we’ve got right on our side.’
‘That gives you an advantage, does it? Having right on your side?’
‘It means that there will always be people like you who want to do the right thing, Raj. No one is totally alone. Everyone has friends, relatives, workmates, neighbours. Providing there are people who are prepared to do the right thing, the terrorists will always be identified, sooner or later.’
Two middle-aged women in matching raincoats, one with a spaniel, the other with a red setter, walked by. The woman with the spaniel glared at Shepherd with open hostility. He smiled at her and winked, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust and tugged hard at her dog’s lead.
‘I hope you’re right,’ said Chaudhry.
‘And what about you, Raj? After all this is over. What do you plan to do?’
Chaudhry frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘MI5 can use guys like you.’
‘Brown-skinned Muslims, you mean?’
‘I meant intelligent, self-motivated individuals who want the best for our country. You could go far, really. And not because of your ethnicity.’
‘My dad would. .’ Chaudhry laughed. ‘Actually, I don’t know what my dad would say. But my mum, she’d freak out. She always wanted my brother to be a doctor and she went apeshit when he announced that he wanted to be an architect. The only thing that calmed her down was me saying that I wanted to study medicine. If I were to change my mind now. .’
‘I think you’ll make a great doctor,’ said Shepherd.
‘I bet you say that to all your. .’ Chaudhry smiled. ‘What are we to you, John? How do you describe us?’
‘You’re an agent,’ said Shepherd.
‘I thought you were the agent.’
Shepherd shook his head. ‘I’m an officer. An MI5 officer. You’re an agent. Or an asset.’
‘An asset? That’s good to know.’ He smiled thinly. ‘I just wish this was over, John.’
‘I know. It will be soon.’
‘I just keep thinking that Khalid knows what we’re doing.’
‘He doesn’t.’
‘He’s under surveillance, right?’
Shepherd nodded.
‘Would he have been followed tonight? To the restaurant?’
‘I would think so.’
‘I didn’t see anyone,’ said Chaudhry.
‘You wouldn’t. The people we use are real professionals. And if we even suspected that he knew you were talking to us we’d pull you out immediately. But that’s not on the cards, Raj. The fact that he wanted you to meet Lateef and Faisal shows that he trusts you. You’re his golden boys.’
Chaudhry shrugged. ‘I guess so.’
‘There’s no guessing about it. He recruited you, he sent you to Pakistan for training, now he’s getting ready for the big one. He’s never going to suspect you because you’re on the inside; he’ll see any threat coming from the outside. That’s why you and Malik are so important in all this. You’re on the inside.’
‘You’ve been in my position before, right?’
‘Lots of times.’
‘It’s scary, isn’t it? Lying all the time?’
Shepherd smiled. ‘It can be. But you get used to it.’
‘I don’t want to get used to it,’ said Chaudhry. ‘I just want it to be over.’
Shepherd opened his eyes and was disorientated for a few seconds until he remembered he was in his bedroom in Hereford. He’d driven up the previous morning, then taken Katra to watch Liam play rugby. Liam’s team had won, and afterwards they’d taken him and half a dozen of his teammates for pizza. Shepherd shaved and showered and dressed in a polo shirt and black jeans before heading down to the kitchen. Katra was already up and by the time he’d picked up the newspaper from the hallway she had a cup of coffee ready for him.
‘Breakfast?’ she asked. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt over cargo pants and had tied her brown hair back with a scrunchy.
‘Egg and bacon would be great, Katra. I’ve got a busy day.’
‘Working on a Sunday?’ she said, taking a frying pan from a cupboard.
‘No rest for the wicked.’
‘Can I ask you something?’ she said as she began to cook his breakfast.
‘Of course,’ said Shepherd.
Katra had worked as his au pair for more than four years and he thought of her more as family than as an employee. Over the years she had lost most of her Slovenian accent though her love of soap operas meant that her pronunciation was a blend of north of England and the East End of London, with the occasional Australian twang thrown in for good measure.
