The Alamut Ambush

'– 'about the British security man who got himself killed because he happened to come upon an Egyptian and an Israeli who were having a private chat down in Sussex last Tuesday.''

' They wouldn't dare.'

'Tomorrow's Sunday – and I'm a very reliable source. I tell you, the Sunday papers would eat it up – and you with it!'

Razzak considered Audley in silence for a moment, then shook his head. 'No, Dr. Audley. Perhaps they might after all, but you wouldn't.'

' But I would,' said Roskill.

'Hugh – ' Mary began doubtfully.

'No, Mary darling!' He felt the anger welling up in him now, and dummy2

there was no need to simulate it. 'They think they can fight their private wars here, and we won't dare lift a finger because it would be undiplomatic. But I don't give a damn! Some bastard fixed that car so it'd kill Alan, and by Christ if they think they can sweep it under the carpet they're wrong!'

He turned to Audley. 'You don't have to stick your neck out, David

– I'll stick mine out. And it'll be a pleasure!'

Audley's bluff had been too coolly mounted ever to sway a man like Razzak. Perhaps it had been calculated to give Roskill himself another cue – it didn't matter; what mattered was that hot blood was something different. Even before he met the Egyptian's eyes he seemed to feel the man's resolution weakening — it was like sensing victory across a chess-board in the moment before the decisive move was made.

'That's how it is, Colonel,' Audley murmured. 'I told you Hugh was after blood. Now perhaps you believe me.'

'I see!' Razzak nodded to himself as though some inner truth he'd doubted had of a sudden become plain. 'Well, I was warned you were hungry. But it seems you're greedy too . . .'

'Greedy?' Audley leaned forward as the Egyptian sank back into the armchair. 'Believe me, Colonel, I'm the best friend you and Jake Shapiro have got – I'm the only thing that stands between you and trouble. And trouble is something you don't need just now, isn't it!'

Razzak looked at Audley sardonically. 'And this you are doing for old time's sake – because Jake's an old friend? Can I I believe that dummy2

now?'

Jake – it was no longer Shapiro, but Jake. And it was a more eloquent flag of truce than any formula of words. Except they now had to meet the bill for the threats they'd made: somehow the Egyptian's confidence had to be won.

'No, Razzak,' Audley's voice deepened. 'But you have to believe that I'm taking a risk of my own in holding out on my own people.

If it gets out, I'm not going to be very popular, am I?'

'True,' Razzak conceded. 'Very true.'

'But it isn't just a matter of friendship. I may be out of touch.

Colonel, but I can still work out why Hassan's in a different class from the P.F.L.P.'

The Egyptian said nothing.

'Hassan's plan is to pick off the moderates – right? And the cease-fire plan means he can't delay any longer?'

An impassive nod. The olive branch was recognised, but not yet accepted.

'But you're not really worried about that, are you, Colonel? Not in the wider sense, anyway. It's Egypt that matters to you. Not Jordan or Syria – or Israel.' Audley took a breath. 'And we both know that in the wider sense Hassan will fail.' Not utterly impassive now – a flicker of interest. 'He'll fail because he's trying just another shortcut, and there aren't any short-cuts in the Middle East any more –

just the long haul. Peace or war, the long haul's still the only way.'

Razzak's eyes glinted again now.

'All Hassan can do is add confusion,' went on Audley, 'and this is dummy2

the one time when Egypt can't afford it, isn't it? Not after Nasser's heart-attack last year.'

The shutters came down again. 'Heart attack?' Razzak said carefully.

'Influenza, they called it. But we don't have to pretend now, Colonel Razzak,' Audley shook his head. 'How long do they give him if he doesn't pack things in? A year? Eighteen months? Not more, I think...'

The Egyptian watched him warily.

'It's quite simple, Colonel. You're one of his old soldiers – one of the men who took the tanks to Farouk's palace in '52. You weren't an assassin then, and you aren't now. You were one of the men who broke the Moslem Brotherhood. He trusts you.'

Audley paused. 'All Hassan will do is maybe kill a few men, and if Nasser wasn't a sick man himself it wouldn't matter – the balance doesn't matter while he's there, because he can handle it, and Hassan wouldn't dare move against him. But time's running out, and he can't afford to lose any of the old guard now – when he goes they have to balance each other. Egypt needs them all.'

'So – ?' Razzak interrupted him at last. 'So – ?'