‘In this instance it happens to be true.’ Coulson got up.
Two men had materialised by the booth. One of them was the unmistakably patrician figure of Sir Robin Teckman; the other was his bodyguard. Teckman placed a hand on Harland’s shoulder. ‘Don’t get up, Bobby,’ he said.
Harland couldn’t help returning the smile. He had always liked and admired Teckman. ‘What the hell are you doing here, Chief?’
‘Oh, you know, routine stuff. But I must say it’s very pleasant to be in New York at this time of year. The city gives one a spring in the step. I used to love it when I was doing my time at the UN.’
His guard dropped back to the bar and the three of them were left alone.
‘We were talking about the situation at the UN,’ said Coulson.
‘I dare say,’ said Teckman, fixing Harland with an interested gaze. ‘Bit of a mess, is it Bobby?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I’m glad you say that, because from the outside it looks rather as though it is. I mean, he can’t live in your office for ever, can he?’ He paused. ‘I think we ought to be open with you. This man Loz interests us. We’ve been watching him, though not as intensely as your friends in the FBI.’
‘Why?’
Teckman gave him the stonewall smile. ‘Suffice it to say, we were never totally convinced by his story.’
‘But why would you even be aware of his story?’
‘We’re always interested in the Secretary-General’s friends. Loz came to our notice a year or so ago and we felt he was not quite twelve apples to the dozen. We want you to stick with him. Find out everything he knows. ’
‘I don’t work for you,’ said Harland testily.
‘But how does this compromise your position, Bobby? You would simply be doing what Jaidi asked you and letting us know as you go along. And of course you will want to keep in touch with Dr Loz because of your back.’ He let out a chuckle. ‘I hear he’s very good but I wonder whether he has done all he can for you. That would be one way of keeping your interest, wouldn’t it?’
That thought had occurred to Harland as he had lain face down on his desk the previous evening. ‘My impression is that Loz is far too sophisticated and too successful to be involved in any kind of terrorism,’ he said defensively. ‘He’s got everything to lose.’ He wondered how much they knew about Loz’s friend Khan. Probably nothing if they hadn’t already mentioned him.
‘Sophistication doesn’t rule out evil. But in substance I agree with you. Still…’ He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. ‘I believe he can lead us to something very important, and I want you to let him take you with him. You won’t even have to tell us anything. Just be aware that we’ll be behind you.’
‘If you’re so sure he’s got something to hide, why aren’t you working with the FBI? You share intelligence on all this. Why not now?’
‘He’s got something to tell; not something to hide. I’m certain they don’t see the difference.’ The Chief shook his head anxiously. ‘It’s become awfully complicated, this business we’re in, hasn’t it? Now, tell me how you are.’
Coulson got up and went to join Teckman’s guard.
‘Nothing much to say,’ said Harland.
‘Any news of her? I had heard things hadn’t been easy.’
Harland didn’t like to talk about Eva, because it was almost impossible to utter a coherent sentence about her disappearance, especially to Teckman, who had been privy to her work for British intelligence and knew their story. Harland had been away in Azerbaijan for a few days. On his return he found that Eva had cleared out some, but not all, of her things and resigned from her Wall Street job where she’d worked on an Eastern European investments desk. No note, no calls, not a single transaction on their joint account or on any of her credit cards. So he had gone to the Karlsbad in the Czech Republic and searched for her. There was no trace. The large apartment where she had once lived with her mother had been re-let and there was no forwarding address. Eva Rath had disappeared again. No, things hadn’t been easy.
‘Bobby, we’d be more than happy to help on this. If there’s anything you think we can do, you know you just have to say the word.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You think she’s alive?’
‘Yes.’ Why not tell someone, he thought. Why not say what you actually think instead of this fucking secrecy? ‘I believe… I believe she just decided it wasn’t going to work, and rather than going through the distress of explaining, she just cut out. That’s her.’ Articulating it didn’t make him feel better.
The Chief nodded. ‘Well, I really am very sorry indeed. You deserve happiness more than most.’ He paused. ‘On this other business, I think you understand that I wouldn’t ask you unless I thought it was of the utmost importance. It really is. All you have to do is keep tabs on this man and we’ll follow along at a discreet distance.’
He nodded. He knew it would be more than that, but what the hell. It might pay to have some help on hand.
‘And this meeting hasn’t taken place. Even with our own people, you haven’t seen me. I can’t stress the importance of this too much.’ He got up, gripped Harland’s shoulder and squeezed it. ‘Look after yourself old son, and get that back better.’ Then he was gone, slipping across the stream of office workers into a black Lincoln.
Coulson’s exfiltration skills were not required. When Harland took him to his office in the UN building, he found a note from Sammi Loz on his desk.
I have discovered a way of leaving the building undetected. I shall be in the Byron hotel in Tirana in two days’ time and will expect you there. Before flying, take a day’s rest on your back and drink plenty of water.
With warmest regards,
Sammi Loz
‘He won’t get out of the country,’ said Harland.
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Coulson. ‘After all he’s not on the watch lists and if he’s managed to dodge the FBI outside the building, they’ll assume he’s still in here. They won’t be looking for him at the airports yet.’
‘That’s true,’ said Harland. ‘Ollins must believe he’s with me for as long as possible.’
‘And when they eventually demand you give up the man in your office, you can shove a surprised British diplomat out into the sunshine. That is to say, yours truly.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Herrick and Nathan Lyne took to having a drink together after a late shift, during which a kind of truce operated and they talked about anything but RAPTOR. One evening Lyne told her to hang around because a decision had been taken to arrest the suspect in Stuttgart the following morning at 1.30 a.m. local time. The man known as Furquan, the third member of the Parana group, had in fact turned out to be called Mohammed bin Khidir. His voice had been recorded while he was speaking on a payphone a few hundred yards from his apartment. By chance someone at GCHQ had compared this with samples in their archive and matched it with what was known as the Bramble video.
Lyne explained that Mrs Christa Bramble, a young widow from Woking in Surrey, had been visiting the ancient sites of Carthage in Tunisia. At one of the sites, she and her party came under attack from a group of seven men armed with machine guns. Twelve tourists were killed and twenty-one others, including Mrs Bramble, were injured. As she fell to the ground, she kept her finger on the record button of her video camera and captured some blurred scenes and – crucially – the sound of the terrorists shouting and talking. From these came three distinct voiceprints, one of which was that of bin Khidir. Enhancing techniques, applied by the FBI to the film, clinched the identification. One of the moving figures matched Furquan’s height, weight and gait exactly, and that man they knew to be Mohammed bin Khidir.
