hinted of better days, as did the cracks in the walls of the main building, but there was a fountain, which was actually working, and, inside, the old-fashioned fans stirred the air as they must have done for years.
Colonel Hamza introduced the manager, a dignified and bearded old man who wore a frock coat over traditional dress. Omar has never forgiven the British for leaving India.
You are wrong, Colonel. I have never forgiven myself for not leaving with them, Omar said, and told a porter, Captain Slay s bag to Cottage Three.
Let him take it, but you come and have tea on the terrace with me, Hamza said to Greg. We need to talk. He led the way through an extensive bar area, where staff were already turning on lights and making ready for the evening.
A caravanserai for travelers, just like the old days, only these are pilots, cabin crews, transients between planes. No tourists at all, as you would expect. Terrorism is strangling the world.
They sat on old wicker chairs opposite each other at a small table. The waiter who served them was so old, he seemed to move in slow motion.
Hamza sipped his tea. I have history with Ferguson and Miller, and I hate everything Al Qaeda stands for, so in this matter I m totally on your side. Commanding the military police has given me considerable power. People tend to do as I say.
I bet they do, Greg said.
On the other hand, the Pakistani Army can t be seen to be involved with anything that takes place across the border. That s why the only solution to the present problem is an illegal flight.
In an aging Russian helicopter that wasn t much good in the first place, Greg told him. What does this Wali Hussein get up to anyway?
Drug trafficking, mostly, and guns for the Taliban. A very unsavory crook. His mother is American, and when his father was killed, she took the boy to Florida and raised him there until he was eighteen, so he can t speak Pashtu not that it matters. Nearly everybody can speak English here. He came back because his grandfather left him property here.
He doesn t sound like the most trustworthy guy on the block, Slay said.
He isn t. How did you get mixed up in this?
I was recruited by Major Giles Roper because of my experience flying helicopters in war zones. I have my own setup in Hazar now, next to Rubat and Yemen.
So I understand. What do you know about General Charles Ferguson?
A great soldier who walks on corpses, if needed, to get the job done.
And Roper?
A George Cross man, Colonel. Slay nodded.
A true hero.
So tell me what he expects you to do.
Fly the Prime Minister s personal representative and his support team in across the border to Amira to snatch Mullah Ali Selim.
Oh, is that all?
Roper warned that Downing Street is all atwitter, worried about the possibility that Amira might be swarming with Taliban, putting Miller in danger putting them all in danger, comes to that.
What s your opinion? Hamza said.
I don t have one. I m a pilot. I fly missions, that s what I do. And I do it well.
Yes, I m sure you are adept at looking after yourself. Are you carrying?
With the kind of security in airports these days? Slay smiled. Do I look like that kind of guy?
Yes, you do. Slay produced a. 25 Belgian Leon from the holster on his right ankle.
Some people might say it s a woman s gun. Hamza weighed it in his hands.
Not with hollow-point cartridges.
Yes, that would make a difference. Hamza checked his watch. The Gulfstream won t be in for some time. We ll drop you at the hotel while I show my face at headquarters, then I ll take you to meet Wali Hussein, and you can run your eye over the Raptor.
Hussein Air, as it was called, was in one of several old aircraft hangars on the outer edge of the complex, and about as far from the control block and concourse as it was possible to be. The doors of the hangar were closed, but there was a small Judas gate through which Slay and the colonel entered, leaving the sergeant and the jeep outside.
The hangar was in half darkness and there was an all-pervading odor that was a mixture of damp cold, oil, and aviation fuel. There was music playing softly from above, Latin American rhythms, and a flight of steel steps led up to a railed landing and an office with glass walls and a light on.
Wali Hussein, where are you? Hamza called in English.
There was an old Cessna 310 to one side of the hangar and a Raptor helicopter parked toward the rear, close to the engineering section, where an engine, suspended by chains and pulleys, hung close to one of the benches.
Nothing to do with our requirements, I hope, Hamza said.
The main door of the Raptor had been pushed back so that one could see into the interior, and Slay was already pulling himself inside. Hamza joined him. It was larger than Slay had expected, quite cavernous, with a bench seat and a high superstructure, housing seats for two pilots. He mounted four steel rungs and slid into the right-hand seat.
He had never flown this aircraft before, but it felt completely familiar to him, in spite of the fact that all the instrumentation was in Russian, which he could not read. He knew exactly what everything was for, though, after the vast range of helicopters he d flown over the years.
It s a dinosaur, it belongs in a museum, but I like it, he said.
She ll fly you, a voice broke in, and they turned to view the man who was leaning in. Raptors have a mind of their own. He was small and aggressive, his skin olive and eyes blue hinting at his mixed blood. He wore a khaki shirt and jeans, and a baseball cap pulled down over long hair.
Where are the other two? Hamza asked.
Islamabad. They both needed work done on the engines that I can t do here. He had a distinct American accent.
Where are your flight mechanics? Greg asked.
Islamabad with my two pilots.
So what if we want this up and running first thing in the morning? Greg asked. Are you capable of checking it out?
Hey, I fly them, but I m no mechanic, man. He was obviously on something. Anyway, I was flying it yesterday, and it was fine.
Not for me, my friend, not when we re faced with the kind of flight we re going to make on the other side. It s a long night ahead, so you can help me.
Can I? Hell, that wasn t in the deal. You wanted to hire a helicopter, and there it is. What makes you so special anyway?
Because as a captain in the British Army Air Corps for the last fifteen years, he s flown more helicopters in more wars than you ve had hot dinners, Hamza said.
He lightly tapped his swagger stick against Wali s chest.
You ve been snorting coke again, I can always tell. I imagine you ve left your supply on the desk. I ll send Sergeant Hamid to find it. He s a religious man, so he ll be disgusted enough to take you down to the military prison. We re rather full at the moment. It can be very unpleasant in the showers.
You lousy bastard, Wali Hussein said.
Time you learned that. Hamza turned to Slay.
Is there anything else?
There s a mounting for a machine gun.
Have you got it? Hamza asked Wali Hussein.
They didn t have the guns when I bought them.
Hamza said to Slay, I ll see you get one.
