The Hijack

find out later and, since he’s a believer, it might affect his command of the situation.’

Stratton and Sumners stared at each other unblinking. If their positions were reversed, Sumners would not have said anything. The operation could go forward on Gabriel’s viewings, but it certainly could not halt because of a daydream about the future. Nevertheless, that wasn’t why Stratton had offered the information. He was not trying to do Sumners any favours either. On the contrary, Stratton had had his operation taken away from him and he was obviously manoeuvring to take it back. But the implication remained that whoever was with Gabriel was going to end up being blown up. It would be easy to prove. Gabriel was right at the door and a lie like that would be the end of Stratton’s career. There was something devious behind it, Sumners was sure of it.

Sumners’ boss remained coldly relaxed in his chair with his legs crossed and fingers intertwined in front of him. ‘Do you believe Gabriel?’ he asked, switching his gaze to Sumners.

Sumners didn’t answer right away, his mind still going like the clappers weighing the various implications of his answer.

Stratton was impressed with the heartlessness of Sumners’ boss.The man had the charm of a rattlesnake and the personality of a lettuce. He was coldly twisting the knife that Stratton had shoved into Sumners, pushing his subordinate into a corner. Stratton almost felt sorry for Sumners. It was his first attempt to step into the field and he was about to be metaphorically blown out of the water before his foot touched down. Since Sumners admitted believing in Gabriel’s unusual abilities, it disqualified him from taking over the ground operation because it would influence his decision-making process. If he now changed his tune, his credibility would be in jeopardy.

Sumners suddenly found himself hating Stratton for putting him in this position, even more so because it was in front of his boss. Stratton could have taken him aside and discussed it first, which would have given him time to manoeuvre. But no, not him. This mere thug of a labourer had conducted himself in the callous and brutal manner he was famed for. The ungrateful sod had turned on his master. This was Stratton’s revenge for the cold-shoulder he had received all those months prior to this operation. What’s more, he had correctly estimated and then ruthlessly attacked Sumners’ weakness, which was his sense of self-preservation, and exposed for all to see that it was greater than the desire to further his career. What Stratton did not know, and what made it look even worse for Sumners, was that Sumners had confided in his boss and Chalmers that his doubts about Gabriel would always remain. The reason behind that revelation was that he simply felt foolish admitting otherwise. He was an intelligence officer of the old school and it was impossible for him to accept that the advancement of this case, of which he was the operations officer, had so far relied entirely on the mystical viewings of a mind reader. The tormenting truth was that until Stratton’s comment, Sumners did not realise how much of a believer he had become. He was now afraid to take over the operation and everyone knew it. Stratton had exposed him, not only to his boss and young Chalmers, but also to himself, and he hated him for it. However, having put everything through the mental scrambler, Sumners still could not understand why Stratton was placing himself in a position to take over the op if everyone on the ground was going to die.

‘Sumners?’ his boss said, still patiently waiting for an answer to his question.

‘I’m afraid I . . . I, er, Stratton is right. It would affect my judgement, sir.’ Sumners looked down at the floor to hide his embarrassment. But there was still some fight left in him. If he were going down he would at least bring Stratton with him if he could. He looked up at Stratton, regaining some of his posture.

‘Are we to understand you want to remain in command of the ground operation?’

‘Unless you have anyone else in mind.’

‘But you’re a believer too,’ Sumners said accusingly.

‘Am I?’ Stratton replied coldly, looking him in the eye like a poker player, pushing the knife even deeper into Sumners. Stratton’s rock steady gaze had convinced everyone, even Sumners, of his doubt in Gabriel, and further illustrated his strength of character and power of leadership and Sumners despised him even more for it.

Sumners capitulated. He removed the photograph of Zhilev from his pocket and placed it on the table.

Sumners’ boss could see the private battle between the two men and although he did not entirely comprehend the politics behind it, it was now time to intervene. In truth, he had harboured doubts about Sumners’ ability to see this operation through almost immediately after he had given him his blessing. Stratton’s credentials for the job were obvious and he now understood why he used to be a favoured operative. The answer was simple. Sumners had been a desk agent all of his career and was meant to remain as such.

Sumners’ boss pushed the photograph across the table towards Stratton. ‘Right then,’ he said. ‘Shall we get on with this operation?’ He thought about letting Sumners brief Stratton on the further details then decided against it. He got to his feet. ‘Stratton,’ he beckoned as he walked down the cabin fastening his jacket and smoothing out the sides.

Stratton unlocked his gaze from Sumners and followed.

Sumners looked down at his hands to find them both formed into tight fists. He unclenched them and then sensed Chalmers looking at him. Sumners forced a smile as if to shrug the incident away but Chalmers’ only response was to go back to his typing.

Sumners’ boss reached midway of the cabin and folded his arms as he faced Stratton. ‘Let’s appraise the situation so far,’ he said. ‘We don’t know where Zhilev is or where he’s heading, but I think the Middle East is as good a place to start as any, and our Israeli friends are the regional experts.We’ve told them we’re on the trail of a former Russian Spetsnaz operative who we believe has been employed by an Islamic terrorist organisation to instruct them on how to improve their bomb-making capabilities. We’re holding back Zhilev’s name for as long as we can because once the Israelis have that they’ll soon discover his brother was killed by Islamic terrorists, and then, of course, our story won’t hold much water - unless their imaginations run away with them, which Israeli intelligence is not famed for . . . We’re taking a risk by not telling them about the device but I believe it is justified for the moment. We’ll lose all control for one. The bottom line is there will be hell to pay if we screw this up . . .

‘You will be acting as our intelligence liaison officer while you’re here. The Israelis will not want you running around carrying on your own investigation. They won’t trust you, of course, and you should expect them to monitor you. They know we won’t have told them everything, which is why they will give you some leeway to move about in the hope of gaining information. I’ve suggested you be based in Jerusalem to start with because it’s the most central location and a good jumping-off point for all borders. Another reason for choosing Jerusalem is you need to be in the town of Ramallah by dawn tomorrow, which is about half an hour away by car. You need to be there without the Israelis knowing. In case you are not aware, Ramallah is the seat of the Palestinian authority and is surrounded by Israeli security forces, checkpoints, et cetera. Chalmers will fill you in on the details.’

Stratton looked over his shoulder to see Chalmers standing out of earshot halfway along the cabin waiting to be beckoned, holding a small canvas bag.

‘In Ramallah you’ll make contact with a man,’ Sumners’ boss went on. ‘He’ll be waiting for you at the lion wearing a wristwatch - apparently that will become obvious to you once you are in the town. He is a member of Islamic Jihad and is also working for us. I cannot advise you on the level of trust you can give this character. It’s Sumners’ idea. The man has played a rather large part in this saga and he may be of use.That will be up to you. His motives are convincing though. I think that’s about it.’

‘I don’t know Israel or the West Bank. How do I get into Ramallah?’

‘You’ll have some help, hopefully. At such short notice we’ve not been able to get in touch with our local agent, but we should manage by tonight. Any other questions, ask Chalmers. The little swot knows just about everything . . . Good luck,’ he said with a smile and walked back up the aircraft.

Chalmers took his cue, approached and took out the contents of the bag, handing them to Stratton as he described them. ‘This is a BBC press identity card that allows you to operate as a member of the press in the West Bank. It’ll make it easier for you to move through IDF checkpoints.There are two main checkpoints into Ramallah - there’s a third but it’s not advisable. Kalandia checkpoint is the only route Palestinians are allowed to drive through. The checkpoint on the other side of the town is known as the DCO and they will allow you in on the press pass, depending on the mood they’re in. The soldiers on the checkpoints are usually conscripts and therefore tend to carry the psychological baggage of the pressganged. Kalandia closes around six p.m., the DCO is open twenty-four hours a day. One credit card. Five thousand US dollars. Do you have receipts for the last twenty-four hours? I’ll take them off you now if you have.’

Stratton dug into an inside pocket of his jacket, produced a pile of paper and handed it to Chalmers who took it with a frown.

‘I take it these have not been itemised?’