Owen s mobile sounded. He put the plane on autopilot, turned his mobile to speaker, and answered.
How are things? Ali Selim said. I left you alone so long because I thought you had enough to think of with such a difficult flight.
We ll be with you quite soon now, Owen said.
And the woman?
Out cold.
Excellent. We ve had extremely bad weather here. The most ferocious sandstorm in years, with a fury seldom witnessed. It has seriously interfered with mobile phone signals, but I think things will improve.
Yes, I know all about that from the weather reports, Owen said. Have you been in touch with anyone in London about the woman?
Of course not. Today is Sunday, a day of rest to any true Englishman, and my information is that Ferguson is spending the weekend at Chequers, the Prime Minister s country retreat, with the French foreign minister. He laughed harshly. Ah, if only we had the opportunity. A bomb would wreak havoc. We could change history.
Ferguson must feel he s finally arrived, so close to the Prime Minister and the seat of power, his advice sought by international politicians. Just think what s waiting for him tomorrow when I call to break the news about Sara Gideon.
Owen said, How s my uncle?
Just the same. When he goes, it will be like the snap of a finger, for everything will change, and for you also, is it not so?
Sorry, the weather s turning turbulent again, Owen said. I ve got to turn off the autopilot and get back to flying this plane.
He switched off his mobile and took control, breathing deeply, his hands firm on the column. God, but I hate that bastard.
Join the club, Henri said. But as it isn t an option, settle for a cup of coffee, which I ll get for you now.
Slay was speaking to Holley, Dillon listening. I checked with the control tower. I told them an Algerian Falcon was arriving carrying a diplomatic envoy booked through to Bahrain. It d only be on the ground for an hour or two. Just passing through, that s your story. So you ll be in an hour after the Lear lands at Rubat. Round about midnight.
And how long in the Scorpion from Hazar?
Half an hour, and since the sandstorm has caused major disruption, we are allowed to land anywhere. The port area, for example.
And getting to the Monsoon. How would that be done?
I ve seen the police launch going out there from time to time. That could be a possibility for men of enterprise.
Which includes you?
Wouldn t miss it, old son.
And how have you been surviving the sandstorm?
I keep myself hidden. A policeman turned up a couple of hours ago to ask where I was, but Feisal, my mechanic, told him that if I wasn t at my house, he had no idea, and he said the same about Hakim Asan. It s not surprising someone s not found his body yet what with all the disruption. Feisal asked the policeman what it was all about, and he told him there had been an inquiry from the Rubat police.
Ali Selim seeking information about his Al Qaeda brother, Holley said. We ll have to deliver it personally. See you soon.
The wind blowing out of the desert in Rubat was not as bad as it had been, but still carried sand, enough to keep the streets clear.
On the Monsoon, Captain Ahmed stood at the rail, watching Colonel Khazid in a motor launch crewed by three of his officers wearing yellow oilskins with Police emblazoned on their backs. They stayed unhappily in the launch while Khazid pulled himself up on the deck, nodded to Ahmed, who was tying the line, and went to report.
Ali Selim sat at one end of the table, Fatima at the other.
There you are, and none too soon, Selim said.
Since Hakim is not with you, I assume there s obviously no sign of a Scorpion helicopter at the airport.
But there is at Hazar, Khazid said eagerly, glad to have some sort of news at last. After repeated attempts, I finally managed to get through to a colleague on the airport police. It s chaos up there because of the weather. Lots of planes coming in, queuing up to refuel, then passing on.
I haven t got the slightest interest in any of that, Ali Selim told him. What about Hakim and this man Slay?
The mechanic Feisal said that Hakim returned from a flight to Gila, and then took one of the jeeps and went home. If he isn t there, he has no idea where he is.
Fatima said, And Slay?
He flew in from Gila some time after Hakim, when the weather was quite bad. He also took a jeep and left for a small hotel in town where he stays. My colleague checked there, only to find that they haven t seen him.
Ali Selim got up and paced around, frowning. A mystery here, compounded by such extreme weather. Anything could have happened, don t you think?
He had turned to Fatima, who nodded. There are more important things to consider now. She glanced at her watch.
The Lear will be landing in forty-five minutes. I ll meet it and bring Sara Gideon to you.
Of course. Wait for Fatima on deck, Colonel.
Khazid retreated and Ali Selim said, Take Ibrahim with you. Make sure she s treated with all respect, whatever state she is in.
Of course, master, a great day. She hurried out.
From the state of the rest of the town, I d say they ve had problems with the power supply, Owen said.
I suspect the airport s come on by royal command.
From behind them, there was a clattering noise of something falling over and then Sara Gideon s voice was heard. What is this? Where in the hell am I?
Get us landed, and quickly, Henri said and returned to the cabin.
She had tossed away the cover and was trying to unbuckle the seat belt. She paused and looked up at him angrily. Her voice was normal, yet she was furiously angry.
Who are you and where am I? She managed to free herself and swing her legs to the floor.
Calm yourself, he told her. You are about to land in Rubat, which is next door to Yemen. You ve just enjoyed an eight-hour sleep from England on this Learjet.
She didn t even seem bewildered, although that could have been the drug. She simply frowned and said, Do I know you?
You would have liked to get your hands on me, yes. I tried to blow up your friend, Holley s, Alfa and almost got shot.
So you were responsible for that?
And a couple of other things.
But not for you, for someone else? Am I right?
Completely. In a way, you may consider yourself to be a prisoner of war.
And who might be my captor?
Mullah Ali Selim.
Throughout their conversation, the Lear had been descending, and now it landed, so that both of them went staggering, grabbing at seats as the plane braked, turning from the runway toward Fatima, Ibrahim, Khazid and several policemen who were waiting.
On the Lear, the engines were switched off, and as Sara pulled herself up, Owen Rashid moved in to the cabin from the flight deck. He didn t know what to say, a kind of desperation on his face.
What on earth are you playing at? she demanded.
Does Jean Talbot know about this?
Of course not.
