‘I don’t give a shit where you need me.’
O’Brien was standing at the doorway. He grinned as Shepherd walked up. ‘Balls of steel, that one,’ he said, gesturing with his Glock.
Fariq was in the armchair by the window, wrists and ankles taped together; more tape held him to the chair. Fatima’s legs were free, but her wrists were taped. She was sitting on the sofa next to the little girl. Through the door that led to the bedroom, Shepherd could see the old couple, bound but not gagged, watching what was happening in the sitting room.
Armstrong was standing with the Taser in his hand, but the Major had holstered his Glock. ‘I’m just asking you to go with us to the study. That’s all,’ he said.
‘And I’m telling you I want to stay here,’ she said.
‘I’m not arguing with you,’ said the Major.
‘What are you going to do? Use that stun gun on me?’ she said, nodding at Armstrong’s Taser. ‘Or are you going to shoot me?’
‘Darling, please do as they say,’ said her husband.
Fatima ignored him. ‘This is between you and Fariq,’ she said. ‘It has nothing to do with me.’
Despite himself, Shepherd smiled. She was outmanned and outgunned but she had no qualms about standing up for herself against five men in ski masks.
‘It has just become about you,’ he said. ‘Now, stand up and walk downstairs with me or, God help me, I’ll put you over my shoulder and carry you.’
‘Are you proud of yourself,’ she asked, ‘terrorising women and children?’
‘You don’t seem terrorised,’ said the Major.
‘Do you call yourself men?’ she said. ‘You’re not men. You’re scum.’
‘We’re not going to hurt you,’ said the Major. ‘We need to do something in the study.’
‘What? What is it you want me to do?’ She glared up at him defiantly.
‘I need a word, in private,’ said Shepherd.
The Major looked around. ‘Now?’
‘Yeah, now.’
The Major nodded. ‘The kitchen,’ he said. ‘Gag her,’ he told Armstrong. ‘And be careful. She bites.’
The two men went downstairs and took off their ski masks. The Major opened the refrigerator, took out a carton of orange juice and held it up. Shepherd shook his head. The Major poured himself a glass. ‘What’s the problem?’ he asked.
Shepherd jerked his thumb at the servants’ quarters. ‘What’s going on up there is the problem. It’s so bloody wrong.’
The Major took a long pull at his juice. ‘We knew that before we started. We knew we’d be crossing the line.’
‘Agreed,’ said Shepherd. ‘But we’re moving further and further away from it. I could just about convince myself that threatening Wafeeq’s brother was acceptable, the ends justifying the means and all that, but we’ve got his wife and kid at gunpoint now and we’re threatening to hurt her.’
‘We’re not going to harm them, Spider.’
‘That’s like an armed robber saying he’s carrying a sawn-off shotgun to scare people. It’s not really the point, is it?’
‘So what is the point?’
‘She’s right,’ said Shepherd. ‘She said we’re not behaving like men and she’s right. We’re behaving like the terrorists that we despise. What we’ve done is every bit as bad as what those bastards are doing to Geordie. I’m not saying that as a policeman, or talking about the legality of what we’re doing. This has nothing to do with breaking the law, and everything to do with the way we’re behaving. There’s no honour in what we’re doing, and I think it’s time to stop.’
The Major drank some more of his juice.
‘I accepted what we were doing in London,’ continued Shepherd. ‘We needed that information and we needed it quickly. I could convince myself that it was acceptable to kidnap Fariq to put pressure on his brother. But we’ve moved beyond that and I can’t justify what we’re doing any more.’
The Major put down his glass. ‘You’re right,’ he said.
‘But?’
‘There’s no “but”, Spider. You’re right.’
‘So, what now?’
The Major folded his arms and leaned against the sink. ‘We either carry on upping the ante, threaten to kill the wife in the hope that her family can influence the kidnappers, or we call it a day.’ He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Like I said, you’re right. My heart isn’t in threatening women and children – but the way things are, with what little time we have left, I don’t see any other way of getting Geordie out alive.’
‘I might have an idea,’ Shepherd said.
‘A good one?’
‘Better than threatening women and kids,’ said Shepherd.
Shepherd sat down next to Fatima. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked. She glared at him with undisguised hatred. ‘Are you okay to talk?’ he asked. ‘If I take that gag off you, will you promise not to start shouting and screaming?’ She nodded, but continued to glare at him. Shepherd reached up slowly, undid the gag and pulled it away from her mouth. ‘Fatima, I want to talk to you without you screaming at me or trying to bite me.’
‘Just say what you have to,’ she said. ‘You bore me.’ They were alone in the sitting room. The Major and Armstrong had taken Fariq and his daughter to join the old couple in the other room. Shortt and Muller were in the hall.
‘Okay. I’m sorry for what’s happened here, and for threatening you and your family. I’m not proud of what we’ve done.’
‘You shouldn’t be! You’re scum, worse than-’
Shepherd put his hand over her mouth and she stopped talking immediately. ‘Please, just let me speak,’ he said, then took away his hand slowly. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, and her cheeks were flushed. She had been held hostage for two days, had not a trace of makeup on her face, hadn’t combed her hair or showered, but she was still one of the most beautiful women Shepherd had ever seen. He felt sorry for Fariq. He had a stunning wife, but he must spend every waking hour worrying that one day he would lose her.
‘What we did was wrong, and I don’t expect you to understand why we did it, but we truly believed that what we were doing was for the best.’ She opened her mouth to speak but Shepherd held up his hand to pre-empt her. ‘What we have to decide now is where we go from here,’ he said.
‘I want you out of my house,’ she said quietly, ‘and away from my family.’
‘I understand that,’ said Shepherd.
‘You are a father. You know how a parent feels when their child is threatened.’
Shepherd’s mouth fell open. ‘How do you know I’m a father?’ he asked.
She snorted contemptuously. ‘Men change when they become fathers,’ she said. ‘I see that change in you. Just go.’
‘We can’t just go,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s the problem.’
‘Because you think I will go to the police?’
‘Yes.’
She sneered at him. ‘Of course I will go to the police. What do you think I will do? Forgive and forget?’
‘I don’t expect forgiveness, and I’m sure you won’t forget what we did to you.’
‘We haven’t seen your faces. You’ve worn masks and gloves all the time you have been here. I’m sure you have been careful to leave no DNA. What can I tell the police? That five Westerners kidnapped us? Do you have any idea how many Westerners there are in Dubai? Hundreds of thousands. I can tell them nothing that will help identify you.’
‘Agreed,’ said Shepherd. ‘But we’d feel better if no one was looking for us.’
‘You want me to promise not to call the police?’
Shepherd nodded.
‘And why would I agree to that?’
