‘Yes I understand that of course. But you know the fellow; you speak his language and I’m sure it won’t be hazardous. It would save me briefing anyone else… but if you’re not happy doing it, I will of course find someone.’
‘No… I’ll do it. It’ll do me good to have something more active,’ she declared. ‘I’m a bit bored with just doing translations and case reviews.’
‘Good. Well let’s take it straight through to the planning stage now. I’ll get our American friend Neil Samms to come over here; apparently there’s no time to be lost.’
Following her meeting she drove straight down to Rashid Hamsin’s flat in Southampton. He was scheduled to be in a tutorial so she had an hour to check inside his home for any hazards that might prevent the smooth running of the operation. Apart from a Chubb lock and a Yale lock on the front door and some bars on the rear windows next to a somewhat rickety looking fire escape there were no security features. She managed to open the locks with her special keys and walk inside.
The apartment had changed little since her visit three months previously. The sofa where she had sat before was covered by Arabic language newspapers with articles fiercely critical of the invasion of Iraq prominent on the front pages, but also there were a couple of classic novels with copious notes written on an A4 pad suggesting that Rashid was keeping up with his studies. Omar’s room was tidy and apparently unoccupied and the Home Office immigration computer had reported that ten days ago he had departed the United Kingdom, destination Cairo. Another change was a smell of cigarette smoke that pervaded the flat. An empty pack of cigarettes lay beside an ashtray which held a few butts in it and she automatically memorised the brand that Rashid had started smoking. Next she attempted to switch on his computer but had no luck guessing the password. Instead she unclipped the case, took out the hard drive, duplicated it and then returned the drive to its location. She installed a miniature CCTV camera in a convenient wall-mounted light fitting so that it commanded a view of the sitting room and then left the building and got back into her car. The plan she had agreed with Samms was that they would return in the evening and abduct him under the cover of darkness. She was about to start the engine when she saw him walking along the road towards her.
She watched Rashid fumble in his pocket for his keys, unlock the door and disappear inside. She started the engine and was about to drive off but then for some undefinable reason she changed her mind.
She climbed out of the car, opened the front door and walked up the stairs to the first floor landing and knocked on the door of Rashid’s flat. A few seconds later he opened the door. He did not recognise her at first but then she watched his expression change from curiosity through recognition and then to anger.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ he asked.
‘Can I come in and talk to you?’
‘Why the hell would I let you in? Are you going to try and kidnap me again?’
‘No I’m not. I just need to talk to you.’
‘What have you got this time, Sandra? A hypodermic? A knife? A gun?’
‘Of course not,’ Gerry replied, ‘I’m not some thug.’ Actually she had a gun and a Taser concealed in her bag, but she doubted that she would need them. ‘Can I come in?’ she asked again.
He did not reply but backed away and let her walk past before closing the front door. She sat down on one of the upright chairs beside the table and arched her back and massaged herself briefly.
‘Do you know what happened to me last time I met you?’ he asked.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve no idea. I’m not supposed to ask unnecessary questions. I know you were in Baghdad for a while.’
‘Yes there was this creepy old American guy who said that I’d better do what I was told or my family would suffer. Rather ironic as now my father’s missing and my mother’s alone in Baghdad and beside herself with worry. Do you know what’s happened to him?’
Gerry shook her head. ‘I’m sorry; I can’t help you. Perhaps the people who want to meet you will have some information.’
‘Do you know why they wanted me to go to Iraq back in February?’
‘No idea,’ Gerry replied. ‘It wasn’t part of my brief.’
‘Do you know why they invaded my country, then?’ he asked.
‘To get rid of Saddam Hussein,’ she replied, ‘to stop his threat to Middle East peace, or world peace even.’ The words rang hollow in her ears.
‘And of course because he had an arsenal of weapons of mass destruction. You’re obviously in the English secret police. Did you people ever believe that?’ Rashid asked.
‘Probably not. It was a flimsy pretext at best, cooked up by our politicians, or for our politicians.’
‘The real reason was that the Americans want our oil,’ Rashid declared.
‘Is that right? What’s your theory?’ Gerry asked.
‘Oh it’s obvious. Sources of supply are drying up. Demand is increasing from China, India and the other developing nations, and my country can make up the shortfall, if only the infrastructure can be installed.’
‘So you’re an expert on the geopolitics of oil are you? I thought you were a language student,’ Gerry replied.
‘Well when you’ve learned what I’ve learned, you discover new interests.’
‘Oh yes? So tell me what you’ve learned,’ said Gerry.
‘There’s no way I can trust you. My father, my whole family could be killed if anyone thought we knew.’
‘Knew what?’ Gerry asked her interest suddenly aroused.
‘Last time I went back to Iraq. This American guy Colonel Jasper White made me carry a document for Hakim Mansour of the old regime. Something called Gilgamesh. My father translated it into Arabic, and I read both the Arabic and English versions at our home in Baghdad.’ Rashid stared at her for a moment. ‘Are you pregnant?’ he asked. She saw him glance at her left hand, lacking a wedding ring.
‘Yes I am. Does it show?’
‘Not much, but I remember my cousin doing that back stretching and rubbing thing whenever she sat down.’ He gave a little demonstration.
‘Oh, right,’ said Gerry. ‘Look can I borrow your loo please… it’s being pregnant. You need to go all the time.’
He said nothing but waved in the general direction of the bathroom. She stood up with some effort and went in. After using the loo she stared at herself in the mirror and wondered if she was really going to carry out the idea that had been going through her mind ever since she had seen Rashid. It was ridiculous. She was a loyal agent. Just because Philip had been killed didn’t mean that she should abandon her core beliefs. But… She went back into the sitting room.
‘How did you get out of Iraq?’ she asked.
‘My father had somehow obtained Lebanese passports for us, and my parents had a little money put by for emergencies. I managed to get across the border, but my mother insisted on staying in Baghdad. She wouldn’t leave without knowing where my father was.’ He gave Gerry an accusing stare. ‘Do you know what’s happened to him?’
‘I’m very sorry, I’ve no idea, but listen Rashid, I was sent here to abduct you again.’
‘You fucking bitch!’
‘Oh shut up and listen to me. First of all have you got any money?’
‘I have a little with me, but mostly in the bank.’
‘Ok. You need to go to the cash machine and get out all you can. Then you need to take the train to Holyhead and then go by ferry to Dublin. Officially you don’t need a passport if you are a British citizen, but you might have to show some form of ID to get in.’
‘I’m not British and I don’t have a British passport.’
‘Yeah I know that, but have you got a driving license? A UK one I mean.’