‘Ken is in charge of Sky News,’ said Sir Angus. From his expression, Porter judged Sir Angus didn’t much care for journalists, and would be relieved when he could get Stuart off the premises. ‘We’re completely off the record here, and he’s agreed that not a word of your mission will be leaked on air. But he knows Katie better than anyone, so he might be able to help us.’
Stuart scrutinised Porter’s face like it was an exhibit in a museum: his eyes ran across him, probing and questioning as he scoured his features. ‘You’re really going out there?’ he asked.
‘Tomorrow morning,’ said Porter.
Stuart nodded. ‘She’ll be damned pleased to see you.’
‘What’s she like?’
Stuart paused before replying, giving himself space to think. ‘Most TV journalists are pretty tough, particularly the ones that get sent abroad,’ he said. ‘But even among a hardened breed Katie stood out for her toughness. Forget all that soft-soap stuff we’ve been putting on air for the last few days about Katie as the nation’s darling, the kind-hearted girl from the Hampshire village. It’s just for the ratings, twenty-four-hour TV news is a competitive business, and we couldn’t afford to let an opportunity like that pass us by. Katie’s a great girl. She works hard, and she doesn’t mind bruising a few egos if she needs to get a story on the air fast, but her heart’s in the right place.’
‘What’s her background?’ said Porter.
‘She went to Cambridge, and read English, just like they all do,’ Ken answered. ‘Then she got a job in local TV news, down in Devon, and did that for a couple of years, before joining Sky. We put her on the regional news beat for a couple of years but she was clearly a star right from the start. The camera loves her.’
‘And you think she’ll hold up under captivity?’
Stuart sighed. ‘We’ve seen the pictures of her, and there are more you can get off the Web that we haven’t even wanted to broadcast. Let’s face it, she’s bound and gagged, and we don’t even know if she’s been given anything to eat or drink in the past few days. We can’t be certain, but the chances are she knows they are threatening to execute her in a few days’ time. I don’t know how anyone would hold up in those circumstances. But I’ll tell you this much, if anyone can, then Katie can.’
Porter nodded. There was nothing left to ask. The woman was unlucky, that was all. They needed a British TV personality, and she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. ‘One thing you should know,’ Stuart added. ‘I think she might have had some kind of relationship with Sir Perry Collinson.’
Sir Angus looked bored: that piece of gossip is already on his files, Porter decided.
‘You sure?’ asked Porter.
Stuart shrugged. ‘Just newsroom gossip, which is never the most reliable of sources,’ he said. ‘But she did a threepart series of specials on him just over a year ago, the same time that his book was on the best-seller charts. Afterwards, they were seen at a couple of drinks parties together. I don’t mean to be sexist, but Katie didn’t mind sleeping with her contacts, at least from what I hear. It doesn’t even have to be that cynical. She’s a young single woman, and she likes powerful older men. Nothing strange about that.’
‘Thanks, that’s all,’ interrupted Sir Angus.
Stuart started walking from the room. As he passed Porter, he paused, resting his hand on his shoulder. ‘She’s not a bad kid, so do your best. We’ll all be rooting for you.’
Porter nodded. ‘If I can,’ he said, ‘I will.’
Stuart grinned. ‘And don’t forget to take some hairspray with you. If by some miracle you get her out of there, we want her right on camera. And if you don’t give her something to fix her hair, then you really will be in trouble.’
ELEVEN
The food tasted surprisingly good. A rack of lamb, with a thick herb crust, some minted new potatoes, the plate heaped with other steamed vegetables. All it needed was a nice bottle of Merlot and a shot of vodka and the meal would be perfect. Even the row of brightly coloured vitamin pills laid out on the table couldn’t spoil Porter’s enjoyment of it.
A condemned man’s last meal, he thought to himself, as he chewed on a lamb bone. They know I haven’t got much chance of coming back dressed in anything other than a wooden overcoat. At least they’re giving me a decent sendoff.
Sir Angus stepped into the room. He sat down opposite Porter, picking up a bread roll and chewing on it absentmindedly. ‘Surprised they haven’t given you any wine with that,’ he said, nodding towards the food.
‘If they could —’
‘Porter’s not drinking right now,’ interrupted Layla. ‘Doctor’s orders.’
‘I’ve drunk enough over the years,’ said Porter. ‘One more isn’t going to hurt me.’
Sir Angus nodded. ‘I’ve seen the medical reports, if they say no juice, then there is no juice,’ he snapped. ‘Two hundred and fifty grand is a hell of a deal, and for that kind of money, I don’t expect you just to be on the payroll, clocking in, keeping your nose clean, and waiting until you can bugger off home.’ He leant in so close, Porter could smell the aftershave on his smoothly shaven skin. ‘I expect to own you. Whatever I want, you do it. That understood?’
Porter nodded. He spooned some more potatoes onto his plate and carried on eating. They were fattening him for something, he knew that, but like a turkey just before Christmas, it wasn’t any reason for not eating the grub. ‘If you want someone else to go and get Katie Dartmouth out, feel free, mate,’ he said, a slow smile spreading over his lips. ‘I won’t be offended or anything. In fact, I’m quite happy just sitting here.’
‘You’re going all right,’ said Sir Angus. ‘Tomorrow morning.’ He spread some papers out on the table. ‘OK, this is the plan,’ he started. ‘Layla, give him the details.’
‘When we’ve finished up here, you get straight to bed,’ said Layla. ‘We don’t really have any idea when you might sleep again, so the more you can get tonight the better. The doctors still want you on antibiotics, so we’ll make sure they give you something for some shut-eye as well. The BA flight for Beirut leaves Heathrow at eight, and takes four hours, forty-five minutes. We need to be out of here at six at the latest. I’ll be taking you to the airport, and the cars are already booked. There’ll be some police vehicles tracking us en route, but nothing high profile. BA have been notified, but we haven’t asked for any special favours, except that they put us in the VIP lounge so we don’t have to queue up at check-in like everyone else. We’ve block-booked three rows of seats near the middle of the A320 that BA uses for that route. All of them will be occupied by our people, but they won’t be making themselves known to you, and you shouldn’t make yourself known to them. It’s just a precaution so that no one can get close to you on the flight. We aren’t expecting any trouble, but in case anything happens, we’ll be prepared.’
Danni came into the room, and cleared away the plate of lamb. She put down a bowl of chocolate mousse, and refilled his water glass. Her hand appeared to brush against the side of his jacket, he felt certain of it, and she hovered beside him clearing away the cutlery for a fraction of a second longer than was necessary. Stop kidding yourself, mate, Porter told himself. She’s not going to be interested in an old bum like you. There’s no harm in looking, never is, but there’s no point in fooling yourself you’re going to get anywhere.