Bowman and Loader found the others waiting to one side of the reception area. Then Mallet led the group over to the main desk. A rose-cheeked blonde woman in a tight-fitting white blouse greeted them with a polite smile and immaculate English. Mallet handed over their passports, told her the tail number of the jet coming over to pick them up. Loader gave the receptionist a long admiring look as she glanced cursorily through the documents. She handed the passports back, wished them a safe trip and directed the team down a marble-floored corridor towards the private lounge.
‘Really, Tiny?’ Casey said as they walked away. ‘Do you think about nothing else?’
‘What’s wrong? No harm in doing a bit of window shopping.’
‘That’s all you’re doing,’ Mallet said. ‘There are monks who have had more action than you.’
‘That’s not true. I was a legend at Hereford. Ask any of the lads. The women couldn’t get enough of me.’
‘That’s not how I remember it. I seem to remember the groupies running out of the pub to avoid your ugly mug.’
‘Piss off, John.’
‘Tiny, we all know you secretly love your wife,’ said Casey, a trace of sympathy in her voice. ‘You don’t have to pretend to be God’s gift to women.’
‘No one’s buying it, anyway,’ Mallet said. ‘They’re more likely to believe in the fairy godmother than Tiny’s powers of attraction.’
The team filed into the private lounge. Ten seconds later, Mallet’s mobile rang. He wandered over to the kitchen area on the far side of the lounge and spoke to Six for several minutes. The voice on the other end appeared to have a lot to say. Mallet listened and said little except occasional one-word replies. Yes. No. OK. He hung up, marched back over and cleared his throat.
‘The diplomats are heading to Northolt right now,’ he said. ‘The jet’s due to leave in thirty minutes. Which means it’ll get here for around two thirty. We’ll take off at three o’clock.’
‘What’s the itinerary?’ asked Casey.
‘We’ll fly direct to Libreville. Once we land, we’ll transfer to another aircraft and head straight to Karatandu. An hour-long flight. We’re scheduled to land at the main airport outside the capital at around eleven o’clock. From there it’s a direct run to the palace.’
‘What about me?’ Seguma said, his mock-English aristocrat voice burning with indignation. ‘I have been told nothing about my arrangements.’
Mallet said, ‘A team from the Gabonese special forces will meet you on the ground in Libreville, sir. They’ll escort you and the guys from the Foreign Office to a secure location. You’ll wait there until it’s safe to return.’
‘And who gets to decide when it is safe, exactly? You cannot expect me to go back while there are still rebels running amok on the ground.’
‘That’s for you to discuss with the Foreign Office. Nothing to do with us.’
Bowman said, ‘We need someone who can get us to the palace. Someone who knows all the army checkpoints and hotspots.’
‘Six agrees,’ Mallet replied. ‘There’s a military garrison at the airport. They’ll accompany us to the palace.’
‘What’s the score with D Squadron?’
‘They’re returning to their camp now. Three Hercs are being prepared.’
‘And the other SF units?’
‘SFSG is due to fly out of their base in St Athan in a few hours. The SBS detachment will leave Poole at around the same time. They’ll fly straight down to Libya and link up with D Squadron. Then the combined strike force will head on to the capital, Marafeni. Should get in at six o’clock tomorrow morning. Six hours after we land.’
Bowman pressed his lips together in a tight line. ‘The timing is tight, John.’
‘That’s assuming the Russians are on schedule,’ Mallet said. ‘Right now, we’ve got those bastards on the back foot. They’ll be wondering why the deal Lang brokered has collapsed at the last minute. They’ll hear about his suicide and ask themselves what it means. It’ll mess with their planning.’
‘Or the opposite,’ Bowman said. ‘They might accelerate the coup.’
‘I doubt it. They won’t want to rush this thing. Too risky.’
‘And if you’re wrong?’
‘I’m Scottish. We’re always right. Part of our DNA,’ said Mallet. ‘Proving you English bastards wrong.’ He chucked a stick of nicotine gum into his mouth. ‘Worst-case scenario, we might have to hold out for a few hours before the cavalry shows up.’
‘Has Six reached out to Mike yet?’
‘They’re liaising with him now.’
‘And?’
‘He’s confirmed that the family is currently at the palace. We’ve given him orders. No one is to move until we get there.’
Seguma stared apprehensively at him. ‘Is there trouble?’
‘Nothing too serious, sir. Just a few protestors.’
‘I see.’ He stared anxiously out of the window at the tarmac. He doesn’t look thrilled to be returning home, thought Bowman.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘As long as Mike is with your family, they’ll be safe. He won’t let you down, sir.’
‘How many guards has Mike got with him?’ asked Loader.
‘About forty. Plus our gang, and Mike, that will give us forty-six bodies.’
Casey said, ‘We should be checking all the social media accounts in Karatandu. Someone might post a picture or a message about gunfire they’ve heard, helicopters or aircraft coming in. Give us an early warning of trouble.’
‘I’ll get Six on it,’ Mallet said.
‘Tell them to check the local airline traffic, too. Look for any non-commercial planes coming in from Russia. Any planes circling over an area and turning back round again. That way we’ll pick up any teams deploying via HALO.’
‘Unless they’re
