Dave waited tensely for the reply; a date would help Pakistani liaison keep tabs on the group from the mosque when it arrived. But Malik only said vaguely, ‘It won’t be long now.’
Next to Dave, Kanaan sighed with disappointment. Then Boatman pressed on. ‘Will you go before the football starts?’
Dave gritted his teeth.
‘I’ll go when they tell me to.’ Malik’s voice had lost some of its nonchalance. Leave it now, thought Dave, frustrated that he couldn’t warn Boatman off.
‘Of course, but do you know where you’re going?’
Silence, an ominous sign. Finally Malik said, ‘Salim, you know where I am going, so why do you ask?’
Fortunately Boatman didn’t hesitate. ‘I suppose it’s because I’m jealous that you’re going now, and I’m not.’
‘You will have your own chance in time. Remember – this is not about either of us, OK? We are nothing. This is just our temporary life, after all. If you were never to see me again in this world, it wouldn’t matter. Never forget that. Nothing else matters – not your friends, not your family. Not even your new bride.’
‘You said you were briefed in London?’
‘I was. It was very strange. To have a Westerner teaching you how to conduct jihad – it’s like having a Jew telling you how to attack Israel.’
‘Was the Westerner a Muslim?’
‘Of course. Our faith is spreading around the world, you know. For you and me it is natural to think all white people are Infidels, but more and more of them are seeing the true path to Allah. They have the advantage of access to places and people you and I could not approach without people becoming suspicious.’
‘That won’t help you in Pakistan,’ said Boatman.
Go easy, thought Dave.
But Malik replied conversationally, ‘No, it won’t. But from what we have been told, we won’t be in Pakistan that long.’
‘Really? Will you be back here for the New Year?’
‘Who said I will be back?’ There was a long pause before Malik continued, ‘Our enemies are everywhere. They offer targets everywhere. Just look at what is going on.’
‘Where?’
Malik sighed impatiently. ‘Must I spell everything out for you, my friend? The brothers have dispersed across the world. The Middle East, North Africa – these are areas where we can regroup while the Americans and the British remain fixated on Afghanistan. Eventually we will be acting at will in places where the Infidels still think they’re safe.’
‘You’d think they would have learned that when the Twin Towers came down.’
‘They’ve learned nothing. The Towers will prove to be just the tip of the iceberg.’
‘So would you be sent to America?’
Malik laughed. ‘Not likely! I would stick out there like a sore thumb. There are plenty of more suitable volunteers – most of them white.’
‘Then where will you go to after Pakistan?’
Dave groaned. Boatman was starting to sound like an interrogator. And sure enough, Malik seemed to sense this too, for he said sharply, ‘Why are you asking me so many questions, Salim? You know it is forbidden to discuss orders from our leaders.’
‘I’m sorry; it’s just that we are friends, and I am concerned about you.’
There was the sound of a glass being put down sharply on a table top. ‘I’d like to think that’s why you are grilling me. I would hate to think there could be any other explanation. Anyway, I have to go.’
‘Will I see you before you depart? It would mean a lot to me.’
Malik said icily, ‘The cause is what matters, Salim. I have said that already. May we meet when Allah intends. Goodbye.’
The noise of a chair scraping back over the floor came through the amplifier, then there was silence. The technician looked at Dave, who nodded, and the man reached over and switched off the speaker.
A voice from the A4 car in the street reported Malik leaving the café and turning left. Should they follow?
‘No,’ said Dave. ‘Let him go.’ He didn’t want anything else to happen that might spook Malik.
‘Stand down, all teams,’ came the instruction from Larry Lincoln in the control room.
Kanaan turned to Dave, beaming. ‘Our man did very well.’
‘Do you think so?’
Kanaan looked puzzled. ‘Don’t you? He’s confirmed what we suspected – that they’re being trained in Pakistan, but sent elsewhere. That’s important.’
‘Yes, but it could be Timbuktu for all we know.’ Dave saw the crestfallen look on Kanaan’s face and tried to reassure him. ‘You’re right, though – we know now he won’t be coming back. That’s a start anyway.’
‘If Boatman can meet up with Malik again before he goes, perhaps he can find out more.’
‘No,’ said Dave quickly. ‘Not a good idea. Please don’t encourage him.’ And though Kanaan looked puzzled, Dave didn’t explain. He was thinking solely of Boatman now, wondering if he’d blown his cover. Malik’s hasty departure had alarmed Dave. It was clear to him that Malik was a good deal cleverer than their agent.
Chapter 31
Geoffrey Fane stalked into his office on the fifth floor of Vauxhall Cross. The room was flooded with light, shining in through the two large windows overlooking the Thames. He walked across and stared out at the little tourist boat just turning to go back towards Westminster, having completed its tour up river. He knew the boat’s crew would be drawing the passengers’ attention to the building, reminding them how it had featured in a James Bond film and giving them some garbled account of what went on inside. He himself wasn’t at all convinced that they should ever have moved into such an exotic-looking place. Its outlandish appearance just invited people to gawp, and made it more of a target too. Admittedly the previous office block, Century House, where he’d worked when he first joined, was a dreadful hole, with masonry falling off the front and an interior like a squalid tenement. No one would ever have wanted to take tourists to see that or put it in a film. Good thing too.
Fane was feeling thoroughly out of sorts. He’d just been to a meeting in ‘C’’s office upstairs, to discuss the launch of the forthcoming History of MI6. Geoffrey didn’t agree with that scheme at all – what was the point of it? he’d asked. There were other ways they could have celebrated the centenary. A Secret Intelligence Service should be secret. But he’d been unable to prevent it, especially when Five had announced that they were doing one, and the defeat had annoyed him greatly. At least he’d managed to ensure the book stopped at 1949. Over at Five they’d gone almost up to the present day and then found themselves criticised because the last chapters were too thin. What else did people expect?
Perhaps it was time to retire, he thought, before he started to get the reputation of being old-fashioned and dyed in the wool. But retire to what? One of his troubles was that there was no woman in his life. Since Adele had gone off with her Frenchman, various short affairs had come to nothing. The women had all bored him; intellectually negligible, with nothing at all interesting to say. He still lived by himself in the flat in Fulham he’d bought after the divorce, since Adele had got away with – as he saw it – their house in Kensington. Not that she needed it (her new husband was as rich as Croesus), yet now she was pressing Geoffrey to sell the small country house that had been in his family for generations. It wasn’t that he went there very often now, and there was no prospect of grandchildren to enjoy it with. But it was his, damn it, not Adele’s.
His thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of the phone on his desk. He picked it up. ‘Yes, Daisy?’ he said. A new girl, rather sweet if a little slow. Still, he’d get her up to speed soon enough. He prided himself on having a deft hand with his PAs, though it was annoying that they never seemed to stay with him very long.
‘Liz Carlyle rang, Geoffrey, while you were upstairs.’