fine-looking woman for all that.
Maybe so, Kelly said. Anyway, go and sit down, and I ll serve the meal.
So Henri took the two glasses and the bottle of wine and went off to the dining room.
At Holland Park, Dillon had decided to keep Roper company by staying over in staff quarters, something he often did. Holley and Sara, having long since departed for the Dorchester, had dined in The Grill and ended up, as before, enjoying a nightcap on the terrace of his suite.
Holley checked his watch. Eleven o clock, so the President is well on his way by now, and things can get back to normal.
Whatever normal means to you people, Sara said.
His Codex sounded, Roper on the line, and Holley switched to speaker. Roper s voice boomed. All hell s broken out at Downing Street.
Why?
The Prime Minister feels humiliated about what happened while he was entertaining the world s most important head of state
But we prevented it from happening, Sara cut in.
That s not good enough, it seems. Young Jemal the boy you shot, Sara has told us exactly what Ali Selim s plans are, and where he s going. The Prime Minister has ordered Ferguson to take us in hot pursuit. Ferguson will bring you up to speed on everything. He s on his way now. You d better get here fast.
He switched off, and Holley said, So much for the quiet life. You heard the man, Sara. Get dressed, and I ll call the doorman to have the Alfa ready.
NINE
When they got to Holland Park, Ferguson was sitting with Dillon and Roper, Doyle serving tea and coffee.
There you are. Ferguson was remarkably cheerful.
Let s get started. It could be a long night, thanks to Ali Selim. The Prime Minister is furious, thinks the whole business makes us look very bad in Washington, so Ali Selim must be dealt with once and for all.
Which is where hot pursuit comes in, Sara said.
But what does that mean, sir?
Exactly what I was going to ask, Dillon said.
Do we try and capture the man or just put a bullet between his eyes?
That would obviously depend on the situation, Ferguson told him.
But the bullet would make more sense, Holley said. In any case, do we know if he s actually reached Peshawar?
Not to our knowledge, Roper said. His plane had a flight plan to Bahrain. Since then it s dropped out of view. It s an Arab plane owned by a wealthy sheikh, flying in Gulf airspace. He shrugged. It might as well be invisible. On the other hand, if it has landed at Peshawar, it hasn t done anything wrong. We all know how corrupt the situation is in Pakistan. It s easy for Ali Selim to be passed through, and after all, he isn t going to stay there. According to Jemal, he intends to cross the border into Afghanistan to this village called Amira.
One thing in our favor, Ferguson said. Our old friend Seleman Hamza has been promoted to colonel in charge of the military police headquarters in Peshawar. He s not only on our side, he hates Al Qaeda.
So you are completely in charge, General, not the Cabinet Office, Roper said.
A statement, not a query, and Ferguson smiled. Just the way I like it. Tell me about this Amira place.
About forty miles inside Afghanistan, west of the Khyber Pass.
So an illegal crossing is necessary. Ferguson nodded, thinking about it.
Definitely, Roper said. A dangerous trip by road in the backcountry, which I believe they call the Wilderness. A helicopter would be better.
Which would mean the Pakistani Army having to look the other way. That s where Colonel Hamza would be useful. I believe there are private firms flying cargo in old Soviet Raptor helicopters and vehicles like that. Money talks, so something could be arranged. He s bound to have the right contacts.
It was Dillon who said, Remember Ben Carver, who we used to use in Hazar? He sold his air taxi firm to a guy named Greg Slay, a captain in the Army Air Corps. Helicopters and fixed-wing. Got a DFC in Iraq. The old military airfield where he s based is used regularly for refueling by RAF traffic on the way to the war zone in Pakistan.
Good thinking, Ferguson said. Get in touch with him, Giles. Make him an offer he can t refuse, and tell him I want him at Peshawar International Airport within twelve hours. He ll arrange a lift, I ve no doubt, from some RAF transport plane passing through.
I ll get right on it.
I suggest we all stay over in staff quarters, but I ll be in my office for a while discussing things with the Cabinet Office. So contact this chap Slay, Giles, then Colonel Hamza in Peshawar, and notify Parry and Lacey to be on standby with the Gulfstream at Farley Field. Have I missed anything?
With respect, sir, it s important to know every aspect of the situation, and I don t think we have that, Sara said.
Ferguson frowned. In what way are we lacking?
The Art of War says: Allowing your enemy to choose the field of battle will only serve his purpose, not yours.
And what exactly is that pearl of wisdom supposed to tell us?
The village of Amira. Why has he chosen it and what goes on there?
Roper cut in. I looked it up, Sara. The population is no more than seventeen or so. It s too barren for poppy cultivation, and the climate isn t right there s rain and a certain amount of snow at this time of year. It s goats, sheep, subsistence farming. They re mountain people, and Pashtu speaking.
A fair description of Poverty Row, Dillon put in.
So what s his agenda and what s he doing there? We fought a battle in the garage with silenced weapons, foiled his bomb attack on Parliament, his niece is dead, Jemal is in our hands. There s been nothing in the newspapers or on television, so he can only conclude that it all ended in failure, Sara said.
So what are you saying? Ferguson demanded.
When you re on the run, having done bad things, you expect to be hounded. It s the law of nature. For every action, there s a reaction.
Ferguson said patiently, And what would that be, my dear?
She took a deep breath, glanced at the others, then back to Ferguson and smiled sweetly. I haven t the slightest idea, General, dear, except that you ll be in a village at the backside of nowhere with a bunch of tough mountain Pashtu-speaking boys who won t even go to the lavatory without an AK-47 dangling from one shoulder, and maybe, just maybe, Ali Selim is waiting for you to turn up.
Ferguson burst into laughter. Sara Gideon, I suspected you were a woman of parts, and I ve just been proved right. Anything to add?
Well, I would point out that you all speak Arabic to some degree or other, but as Pashtu was one of the main reasons you recruited me, I do think I should be included on this one. I m good, sir, my Pashtu is fluent, and I can pass myself off as an Afghan woman.
Holley couldn t help himself. Not with that scarlet mop of hair, you can t.
I ve done it before in the right clothing, Daniel you ll see.
He wasn t pleased, but he gave up. Ferguson said, My decision. You ll go as interpreter, Sara, I ll supervise things in Peshawar. Harry will be representing the Prime Minister, and Dillon and Daniel can handle any rough stuff. Now I really must go to my office.
Ferguson reappeared almost an hour later to find Sara, Holley, and Dillon deep in conversation while Roper worked at his screens.
They want me back at Downing Street. Sergeant Doyle can drive me. What s been happening?
