parents were half-witted. He was hoisted up.
'I really do urge you… ' But they had no patience for him. They were too happy. They went down the slope. The wind cut at their clothes, deadened their ears. The pain welled in his legs, but he shrugged away the hands that offered to help him. He had started on his own and he would damn well finish on his own. There you are, Major, we made it and we will have a long night's carousing over this adventure, you and I. They were coming down the slope fast. Darling, he thought he heard Harriet cry out. Darling. They were strung out in a line.
'Dur… '
The shout in the clear air.
Mattie saw them.
'Dur…'
He thought they were paratroops. Toughened, hard men.
Weapons that were aimed as if their use was second nature.
He saw five at first, blocking the track down the slope. He knew a little Turkish, and the word to halt would have been clear enough if he had known nothing. He didn't have to be a linguist. There were more of the patrol at the flanks now.
Guns covering them. Mattie raised his hands. His hands were high above his head. His mind was clear. There might be officials of the United Nations at Hakkari, but there would be no officials of the United Nations High Commission for Refugees on the upper slopes of Mer Dag. He looked for the officer.
He pushed his way past a rifle barrel. He had the authority now. He was filthy and he could barely hobble without support, but he had been commissioned in the Coldstream Guards, and for a few weeks in his life he had been a junior commander of the Sovereign's guard at Buckingham Palace.
He knew how to deal with soldiers.
He saw the tabs on the officer's shoulder, the American-style bars. He would understand English if it were spoken slowly and loudly.
'Good afternoon, Lieutenant. My name is Furniss. I am an official of the government of Great Britain. I am in flight from Iran, and I ask for your help. Should you wish to confirm my identity then you should radio back to your headquarters and tell them to contact my Embassy in Ankara, Mr Snow…'
He was waved forward. He was trying to walk upright, with dignity. He thought the officer had a good bearing, might have been on a NATO exchange course. He passed each of the young men, the draft dodgers, the refugees, the flotsam.
'Now, most important, any help that you can afford these boys, Lieutenant, my government will be grateful for it.
Without their assistance I would not have been able to cross your frontier. I ask you to treat them with compassion.'
The officer looked through him. He gave orders, sharp and clear commands. A corporal was at Mattie's arm, and leading him further down the slope. When he looked back he saw that the boys had been corralled by rifle barrels and were sitting hunched on the track. Mattie was taken forward, whether he wanted to go or not. At the edge of the track, Mattie stopped. He resisted the tug of the corporal's hand on his sleeve.
'What are you going to do with them?'
The officer gestured, in annoyance, to his corporal. Mattie was forced off the track and into thorn scrub. He had been taken from sight. He sat on the earth, and his head was buried between his knees.
He saw the officer take from his belt a Very pistol. He saw the burst of colour high above him. Afterwards he heard the officer shouting on the radio.
It might have been fifteen minutes later, it might have been half an hour, it might have been his lifetime, and between the foliage and sprigs of the thorn Mattie saw the patrol of Revolutionary Guards approach carefully down the slope. The refugees were prisoners, they were given into the custody of their own people. They didn't struggle, no one broke away and ran. They went meekly.
'They are scum,' the Lieutenant said. 'And they bring into my country drugs and crime.'
'They saved my life, goddammit,' Mattie said.
'You could have gone back with them.'
He had not argued. He had not jeopardized his own safety.
He thought that it would be a long time before he forgot the laughter of the boys at the warnings of an old man, and he thought that the Major would have wondered what all the fuss was about.
An hour later the radio crackled to life. Orders from headquarters. The biggest man in the patrol, a giant of a man, lifted Mattie on to his shoulders and tucked Mattie's thighs over his arms, and carried him like a child under the sinking sun, away down the slopes of the Mer Dag.
16
Houghton did the opening, not that successfully, and the first cork careered into the ceiling of the Director General's office and chipped the plasterwork.
Champagne, and a good vintage, the PA had been sent out with a wad of notes from the Director General's wallet. Must have run all the way back with it.
The occasion called for the best.
'I said he'd surprise us all… not quite true, I said he'd surprise a lot of people. I had faith in him. Always the way, yes? Just when life seems darkest the sun blesses us. I tell you what – Furniss is a real hero. You can have your soldiers doing daft things and getting medals for what they've achieved in the heat of battle, no harm in that, but Furniss has done it on his own. Can you just imagine how the chaps are going to be feeling back in Tehran, all of those unshaven baskets? They'll be slitting each other's throats… A toast to Mattie Furniss
… I'll bet he feels like a million dollars right now.'
The Deputy Director General muttered, 'He hasn't been on a Fun Run, Director General.'
Ben Houghton said, 'I can't get a link through to him. We expect that the Turkish military will have taken him down to Yuksekova, they've a base there. Crisis Management have been trying to patch through a fine, but they can't make it through. Pretty soon now he'll be airlifted to Ankara.'
The Director General beamed, 'There's a hand that I am much looking forward to shaking.'
'The debrief comes first,' the Deputy Director General said. 'He'll be sanitized until his debrief is complete, that's the way things are done.'
'So when do I get to congratulate him?'
'When he's debriefed, and after the debrief there'll be the Inquest.'
'You are one hell of a killjoy, you know that. You're a real damp rag.'
'It's no more or less than Mattie would expect. We debrief him on what's happened, who held him, and then we hold the Inquest as to how he was in a position that left him so vulnerable. Mattie'll know the form. My view, he's likely to be scarred for rather a long time, that's just my personal opinion.'
'He's done bloody well.'
'Of course he has.'
'And I'll not have him harassed.'
'No question of him being harassed, Director General, just debriefed.'
The Deputy Director General proffered his glass to young Houghton. He refilled his own glass, and then the Director General's and the DDG had the last of the bottle. If the Director General ever stumbled under a Number Nineteen Omnibus, and the Deputy Director General moved into this office, that young man would be out on his neck, damn fast.
The DDG knew the answer, but he still asked the question.
'Have we spoken to Mrs Furniss?'
Ben Houghton said, 'She's been out ever since the news came through, no answer on either of her phones. She hasn't been forgotten.'
'Well done, Furniss. This calls for a second bottle, I think, Ben. Damned shame that we aborted the network, but at least we can move Eshraq.'
