‘So why does he come here regularly to the same location to make a phone call? I mean, why the same place? It’s a sat signal. He can talk from anywhere. He doesn’t have to drive all the way out here?’
‘Validation.’
‘What?’
‘If he makes the call from a predetermined location it confirms to the recipient who the caller is. Not many people can make a call from the middle of the Syrian dessert these days.’
Granger thought about it. ‘Makes sense I s’pose. But whoever he’s calling would need to be able to locate the exact position of the sat phone.’
‘Correct.’
‘And to do that you’d need sophisticated IT which would suggest a government.’
‘Or someone who has access to state technology.’
‘Why doesn’t he call from anywhere and just send a code?’
‘He probably does. Two-step verification. The code plus the location verifies it’s Saleem.’
‘And how do we know when he’s coming out here?’ Granger asked. ‘We know every time he leaves his compound to come on one of these secret chats.’
‘No idea how that triggers. We must have a friendly somewhere.’
‘Okay. But why this Saleem bloke? He’s nothing but a low ranking Daesh foot soldier. He’s like the equivalent of a corporal. His commanders live in the same camp as him. Why aren’t his bosses talking to this Russian? I mean. Who the hell is Saleem?’
‘A conundrum to be sure.’
‘Shh!’ Granger’s eyes darted to the sky. He removed his hat to hear better.
Gunnymede looked skywards as he concentrated.
‘That’s air,’ Granger said.
The sound grew. They got to their feet, hoping to see something amongst the millions of stars.
‘Not a drone?’ Gunnymede said.
‘No. That’s a fighter.’
They followed the sound as it moved in a wide circle around them.
‘This patch is out of bounds while we’re in it,’ Granger said. ‘They can’t be friendlies.’
The rumble continued to move around them.
‘There,’ Gunnymede said. ‘Orion’s Belt.’
Granger found the constellation. ‘Seen. Two fighters.’
They watched the planes continue to circle.
‘They’re hunting,’ Granger said.
Half a minute later the gentle roar grew quieter. Seconds later the only sound was the wind playing with the sand.
The men sat back into their scrapes.
‘Russians having a sniff about I expect,’ Granger said checking his watch. ‘Three and a half hours till first light.’
‘More coffee?’
‘Why not.’ Granger produced a packet of cigarettes while Gunnymede opened the flask. Granger lit his fag using a tactical lighter and blew out the smoke, savouring it.
‘Can I have one of those?’ Gunnymede asked.
‘Didn’t know you smoked.’
‘Only on special occasions. And when I’m pissed.’
Granger offered him one and they sat back and enjoyed the moment.
‘Your first time in the sand box?’ Granger asked.
‘In the field, yeah.’
‘More adept at five star hotels and long legged spies I expect.’
Gunnymede glanced at him, realising the man had no idea about his recent past. ‘I wish.’
‘I trained some of your lot down the Fort last year. Pistol and SMG work.’
‘I haven’t been there in a while.’ Gunnymede had a thought. ‘Do you know a 22 lad called Charlie Gibson? Former I should say. G squadron. He used to do some training for us at the Fort.’
‘Gibbo? Yeah, I know Charlie. He’s been out a few years now. Bit of a wide boy but a good enough lad.’
‘I bumped into him in London the other day. We didn’t have time for much of a chat. Do you know what he’s up to these days?’
‘No idea what Charlie does these days.’
Gunnymede drew on the cigarette. ‘What about Jack Henderson?’
‘Former Sergeant Major, G Squadron. Knew him well enough to say hello. I heard something happened to his daughter. She was attacked or something.’
Granger noticed Gunnymede pondering. ‘You knew her?’
‘Yeah. I went to visit her in hospital.’
‘She alright?’
‘No.’
Granger sensed something in Gunnymede’s tone. ‘Knew her well then, did you?’
‘Yeah. Charlie was there.’
‘At the hospital?’
‘I can’t imagine why though.’
Granger took a draw of his fag and blew the smoke out after holding it in for a while. ‘Was Charlie there to see her or you?’
‘Me, I think.’
‘How’d you leave it with him?’
‘I wasn’t in the mood to talk.’
Granger studied Gunnymede for a moment. ‘All I’d say is tread carefully with that one.’
‘Why?’
‘It might be your cup of tea or maybe it ain’t.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Gunnymede wanted to know what he meant. ‘He said the police have a suspect. But the police say they haven’t.’
Granger drew on his cigarette while he mulled over something.
‘Why would he say such a thing?’ Gunnymede asked. ‘That’s why I asked what he was up to. Would he say such a thing if it wasn’t true?’
‘What was she to you?’ Granger asked.
‘Megan was my girlfriend.’
‘Seriously?’
‘We were engaged.’
Granger let out a deep sigh and tossed the butt of his cigarette. ‘I see. Daughter of a SAS man would do it. Girlfriend of a field spy would back it up.’
‘Do what?’
‘Ah. It’s just a rumour.’
‘Come on Granger. Don’t play about.’
Granger took a moment to consider his next words. ‘You ever heard of the Becket Approval?’
Gunnymede looked at him. ‘I heard the phrase some years ago. I don't know what it means though.’
‘Ask Charlie. He’d know.’ Granger sat up and put his hand out for quiet.
‘What would Charlie know?’
‘Shhhh!,’ Granger urged. ‘Here we go!’
The rumble of vehicle engines drifted to them on the wind. Granger scanned the darkness with his thermal imager and found the source a kilometre away. The heat from the wheels and engines outlined the vehicles. All lights were off, driving by starlight.
‘Two vehicles,’ Granger reported getting to his feet. ‘Looks like the little
