Jack Higgins - The Killing Ground

“Several plots involving such weapons in the UK have already been foiled,” Roper noted. “We’re at war and that’s the fact of it.”

There was a pause and Billy said, “Which leaves us with Hussein. What are his intentions?”

“He’s never been a bomb man,” Roper said. “My bet is assassination.”

“You mean on the level of the Prime Minister or someone at that level?” Harry asked.

“Let’s look at it this way. His intentions regarding the Rashids have been thwarted, at least for now, so he’s got to find something to do. And he’s changed his appearance in some way-Khan told us that. It was worth dumping Khan in the Thames to learn it.”

His phone went. It was Ferguson, and Roper put it on speaker. “How are things?”

“He’s out of surgery. Professor Vaughan says it was bad and it will take time, but he’s going to weather the storm.”

Harry and Billy cheered and Roper said, “Have you managed to speak to him?”

“Just a few sentences. Apparently it was Khazid who held him at gunpoint and wanted to know where the Rashids were. Hal refused to say, made a run for it to the door in the garden, Khazid shot him in the back as he pulled the bolt. He lost it then, was vaguely aware of another person rushing through but didn’t see him.”

“A pity,” Roper told him. “Harry put the screws on Khan earlier this evening. Rather interesting.” He told of Harry’s exploit with Khan and the results.

Ferguson said, “Christ Almighty, so we no longer know what the bastard looks like?”

“Or his intentions or where he is now. The only thing we can be certain of is that he doesn’t know where the Rashids are,” Roper said.

“And thank God for it.”

“We do know one thing,” Roper told him. “When he made that original phone call to Khan, he said he and Khazid had landed by boat and were with one of the Broker’s people at Peel Strand in Dorset, a cottage called Folly Way.”

“Right, I’ll contact the chief constable of the Dorset constabulary now. Anything else?”

“The Rashids at Zion. They need to be informed of the attempt on Hal Stone’s life.”

“It will frighten Molly Rashid to death. They can’t be reached, that’s the important thing, so we can leave it for the moment.”

“And the others?”

“I’ll speak to Levin. I think he, Chomsky and Greta deserve to know. We’ll make a decision later on whether I should fly down tomorrow. I’d prefer to tell the Rashids personally. Dillon and I will leave in the helicopter in thirty minutes. See you soon.”

IN THE BACK ROOM of the shop, Hussein and Khazid sat at the dining table with Bolton and went over the details again and again. They’d also had a CD prepared for them by the laptop man, covering every possible aspect of the village and the house, even a list of useful bird names. Khazid had found that amusing. “The most intelligent birds are crows. They can communicate with each other and count. Does that establish my credentials?”

Bolton said, “Just be yourself, as I did, and look the part.” He turned to Ali. “I’ll go now and purchase the same garments, boots and so on that I used. What about a vehicle?”

“Taken care of by a member of the Brotherhood in the motor trade. It’s a Caravanette, with a bunk on either side in the rear and cooking facilities. A family sort of thing, popular with campers. He will also supply some tools that with luck should meet all our requirements. It will be delivered to us in a little while.”

As Bolton stood up, Hussein said, “One thing I must ask. You mentioned from the edge of the wood being able to look over the wall into the garden itself and the rear of the house, a terrace and so on. Did you see anyone?”

“No, the weather was poor, heavy rain, and my binoculars were nothing special.”

Hussein looked at Ali. “May he remedy that and find me a pair of exceptional Zeiss glasses with top magnification?”

“Of course,” Ali said, and nodded to Bolton. “You know who to call.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Bolton glanced at Hussein. “A privilege to serve.”

He went out, and Hussein said, “A good man.”

“One of the best. Can I do anything else at the moment?”

“I think not. If Khan phones, simply say I haven’t been in touch with you and you have no idea where I am.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ll deal with the Broker.”

“As you wish.” He got up to go and there was a knock on the door. He opened it and the girl assistant passed him the Evening Standard. The stop press had a brief report that the police were pursuing inquiries into the shooting of Cambridge professor Hal Stone, who was doing as well as could be expected after successful surgery.

“Perhaps you should read this.” He put it on the table without a word and went out.

Khazid read it first and exploded. “You said there was no pulse! You should have let me finish him!”

“Things happen,” Hussein told him.

“Sooner or later, he’ll be able to talk.”

“So what? He can’t report on my new persona because he didn’t see me, which is one good thing. Another is that Ferguson has no idea we know about Zion. This will work, cousin, I feel it. Our astonishing good luck with Selim Bolton finding a way in, for example, can only be looked upon as the will of Allah himself.”

“Be practical, cousin. We don’t even know if our simple tools will move that manhole. We don’t know what’s down there if we can remove it, and what about the other end? It could be under six feet of earth, a garden rockery, anything.”

“A reconnaissance then,” Hussein said. “And how many times have we had to do that in the last two years of the war, cousin, and succeeded in our purpose?”

“But what is our objective? Let’s say we can force a way through this tunnel into the garden. Do we sit in a shrubbery, waiting for Sara to come out to play, and if so, what do you do, shoot her?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Okay, so you hope she’s alone, knock her out, fling her over your shoulder, drag her through the tunnel and drive away.” Hussein sat there staring at him, and Khazid said, “Of course, if anyone was with her, we’d have to shoot them. Even if it was her parents.”

Hussein’s face was somber. “I gave Sara’s grandfather my most solemn oath before Allah to protect her, honor her in every way. I failed miserably in all respects. Death followed at every turn, our comrades died at the hands of Dillon and Salter, my uncle-struck down with the shame of it-was dead before his true time. You are right in everything you say. I do not know what to do or even to say if I should look upon her face again. Allah was the one who chose this path for me.”

“I think the truth is you never even knew where everything was leading from the beginning.” Khazid got up. “If we had only pursued our worthwhile targets, Ferguson and the others, there would have been some point, but now…”

“There will be a purpose to everything and Allah will show what it is. I must go to Zion, I have no choice.”

“And neither do I.” Khazid sighed. “I finally accept that for the past two years as a soldier in the war in Iraq, I’ve been commanded by a raving lunatic. All of a sudden, I don’t find any comfort in the idea that I’m in the hands of Allah.”

“So you will desert me?” Hussein sat there, his face bleak. “So this is what it’s come to?”

Khazid managed a smile. “Now, do I look like that kind of fella, cousin? No, I’ll go down to hell with you if that’s what you want.”

Ali returned. “So, now we wait. I have arranged for Jamal to drive up to the public car park at Farley Field in a Telecom van. He’ll wait there and observe, just in case the Hawk plane gets some use. He is familiar with most of Ferguson’s crowd and will phone me the moment he has something and I’ll contact you.”