the men involved are called Dillon and Salter. Are they familiar to you?”
“No, but they soon will be. I’ll call you when I know more. Take care of Sara. I’ve made all the arrangements in Kuwait. A Hawk. You’ll enjoy flying that.”
WHEN HUSSEIN RETURNED to the group, they were waiting.
“You could have gone for coffee and a bite to eat,” he said.
“Not in my leg irons, cousin. Must I endure further humiliation?”
And he didn’t hesitate, extracted no false promises. “Forgive me, cousin, so much has happened.” He produced a key and unlocked the chains, dropping them over the seat, then said, “I have grave news from Baghdad.”
His words lingered, his people waited, so used to bad news they knew this must be special, and Hussein put an arm around Sara’s shoulders. “My uncle, Sara’s grandfather, has been taken from us at the villa. It was a car bomb, as he was leaving in his Mercedes.”
Jasmine gave a short wail, then started to sob. One of the men, Hassim, said, “Sunnis?”
“It would appear so.”
“May they rot in hell,” Hamid joined in. “Cursed for a thousand years.”
“Two thousand,” said Khazid.
Sara stood there, saying nothing.“Come,” Hussein said. “We all agree, but we still have a long trip ahead of us. We must eat.”
She nodded, torn in her heart between her feelings for her parents and a stubborn old man who had wronged her terribly yet loved her deeply.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes.” She took Hussein’s arm and they walked to the cafe.
LONDON
DUBLIN
KUWAIT
Chapter 4
AT FARLEY FIELD, AS THE GULFSTREAM TOUCHED DOWN, Dillon looked out and saw Ferguson standing under an umbrella smoking a cigarette.
“What do you think, trouble?” Billy asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. You might be surprised,” Dillon answered.
Parry opened the door and they moved out, followed by Lacey, who said, “Dammit, Sean, we don’t like our time wasted.”
“I’m not sure that’s a correct description. Savage and his wife were blown up in their boat on the Tigris.”
“And four very unpleasant geezers tried to take us out in the bar at Savage’s club. When we left, it looked like the Last Chance Saloon in a bad movie,” Billy pointed out.
“How many?” Lacey said slowly.
“Four,” Dillon told him. “So your time wasn’t wasted-and I suspect we’re about to use your services again.”
“Where to this time?” Lacey said.
“You’ve been there before. Hazar.”
“Christ Almighty,” Parry said.“You nearly left your bones there, Billy.”
“Well, I didn’t, and I’ve no intention of leaving them there this time.” They reached Ferguson, who said, “All right, gentlemen, get in the back of the Daimler and explain yourselves. Your body count is beginning to rival Tombstone ’s.”
After Dillon sketched in the events, he said, “After all, General, you did say we could use the Gulfstream in an emergency.”
“Yes, but I hadn’t envisaged this.”
“And it all started with you,” Billy said. “Last time you saw us, you suggested we go to Heathrow and haunt passport control.”
“Which is where we came up with Caspar Rashid.” Dillon cut in.
“All right, all right.” Ferguson was getting testy as they coasted through London toward Holland Park. “I’m the first to admit he could be very useful for us.”
“Have you told him we failed to get Sara?”
“Not yet. I thought his wife should be considered, too. She’s operating now, but Major Novikova will tell her, and then bring her to us. Eleven o’clock should be about right.”
“Great,” Billy said. “Time for a full English breakfast.”
“We don’t have a cook,” Dillon reminded him.
“Who says so?” Ferguson frowned. “All I had to do was telephone the Civil Service pool. A Mrs. Hall appeared almost straightaway, answers to Maggie. She’s from Jamaica, though-I’m not sure about the full English breakfast.”
“For God’s sake, General, they probably invented it.” That was Billy.
“SO THEY FAILED?” At the hospital, Molly Rashid was very pale, no color in her face at all, and weary suddenly in a way she hadn’t been before. Greta noticed that at once and the hands were shaking.
“You need a drink,” she said.
“No.” Molly ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve got another operation this afternoon.”
“I don’t think so. Your right hand is shaking like a leaf. You couldn’t possibly operate in your present condition.”
Molly covered her face with both hands. “What am I going to do?”
Greta got a glass, took a bottle of vodka from the fridge. She almost filled the glass. “Come on, take it straight down. It numbs the brain.”
Molly hesitated, then did as she was told. She gagged, staggered to the sink. For a moment, it was as if she was going to be sick, but she took a couple of deep breaths and pulled herself together.
“My God, that hit the spot.” She turned and smiled wanly. “We’d better go and face it, I suppose.”
“Yes,” Greta said, “I suppose we should.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN you failed?” Rashid said, as he turned from the window to Dillon.
“We simply couldn’t get anywhere near her.”
“Oh, dear, you couldn’t get anywhere near her. My father will be pleased.”
“Mr. Rashid, your father is dead.”
Rashid was stricken, aged visibly, took a step, stumbled, reached for a chair and grabbed hold of it to steady himself.
“I think you’d better sit down,” Dillon said.
Which Rashid did. “How did he die? Was it you?”
“No, I’d nothing to do with it. He was killed going out of the main gate of his villa with his chauffeur. Car bomb. The word is that it was a Sunni operation.”
“Were there any other casualties?”
