‘Not yet, but we will do soon,’ Fielding assured him.
Although she excelled at Arabic, Gerry’s knowledge of French was schoolroom standard, and she was struggling to make the waitress understand her. She was somewhat amazed when Dan stepped in with a stream of fluent French which elicited a broad smile from the sulky waitress who then bestowed a look of contempt at Gerry before disappearing back to the kitchen.
‘What did you say to her,’ Gerry asked.
‘I just told her what we wanted to eat.’
‘There was something else at the end.’
‘I said that you were English and that meant you were incapable of learning another language.’
‘Bloody cheek!’ Gerry spluttered, ‘I’ll have…’ Her phone bleeped. She picked it up and frowned at the screen. ‘It’s from Richard Cornwall’s wife. She says he’s been snatched up by Fielding and suggests we act on the basis that he’ll reveal all he knows.’
‘Oh crap! Did he know we would be going to Amman?’
‘No, he thinks we’re off to Kuwait as well.’
‘Do you think he’ll be safe?’
‘Nothing will happen to anyone while we’re still on the loose, but if we can’t find Rashid Hamsin and find out the truth of operation Gilgamesh, then who knows?’
‘If they catch up with us, do you think they’ll put you back inside?’ Dan asked.
‘No I think they’ll kill us both,’ she replied. ‘We really need to find what we’re looking for.’
‘Do you think Rashid will help us?’
‘I hope so. I helped him get away when he was about to be picked up.’
‘I thought you were the one who snatched him in the first place.’
‘Yes that was me, but then the second time I was sent to pick him up, I arranged his escape.’
‘Let’s hope he remembers that. How are we going to find him now?’
‘His mother’s brother has a vehicle repair and car dealership in Amman. I can’t remember which type it is but I do remember it was one of the Japanese manufacturers.’
‘Well hopefully there aren’t too many car dealers in Amman then, otherwise we could be searching for days.’
‘It’s not going to be a problem finding the right one so long as an old friend of mine named Adnan Marafi is still around.’
‘Hall and Tate shouldn’t be too difficult to find,’ said Bruckner. ‘So they’ve not turned up in Kuwait, but we know they have to be heading towards the Middle East.’ He pointed to a map of the world displayed on one of the screens. ‘The other countries bordering Iraq are Turkey, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Jordan and Syria. Saudi Arabia is very unlikely as people can’t turn up without a visa, and I doubt that they have had time to get past that problem. Similarly Iran is a place where they don’t encourage tourists. That leaves Turkey, Syria and Jordan as the most likely countries but they could have gone to other places such as Bahrain where UK citizens are fairly welcome. I want you to go over Tate’s history and work out where she would most likely have gone.’
‘What about Hall’s past, General?’
‘This is Tate’s stomping ground. Let’s figure she’ll be calling the shots. Now get to it. I want them found. Oh, and keep the line open to London. They might not have the facilities we have but they know Tate better than we do.’
‘This should be the last time we have to worry about being picked up,’ said Gerry as they stood in line to board the flight from Paris to Amman the next day.
‘That sounds a bit complacent,’ Dan warned. ‘You don’t realise how much data we haul in these days, and what computing power we’ve developed since nine-eleven. They’ll be watching out for any pair of travellers that have left London or somewhere else in Europe, heading for destinations anywhere in the Arab world, and then they’ll search the background of each and every one of those passengers. I believe it’s just a matter of time before they track down our passports, find there’s no genuine background to them and decide it could be the two of us. We just have to hope that it doesn’t happen before we get to Amman.’
Gerry stared at him for a moment. ‘You’re right; I’ve been out of the game for too long.’ She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’m glad your with me Dan, otherwise I would have just tried to hide somewhere. I’ve had too much crap kicked out of me in the last few years.’
‘You were going to tell me about Adnan Marafi,’ he said once they were seated on board the aircraft.
‘He’s a contact in Jordanian intelligence. I saved his life once and he owes me. He’s retired now but he has this car rental agency that has an office in Queen Alia airport. I’m sure he or his contacts will help us track down the family.’
‘But he’s retired, you say.’
‘Let’s say he’s inactive. He must be nearly seventy years old, but nobody ever retires really, not from this business and definitely not in his part of the world. You need to keep a friend on the inside to help you keep tabs on your enemies.’
‘Uh… General.’
Bruckner glared with disfavour at Gary Weitzman. ‘Yes, have you finally had a moment of inspiration?’
‘Well it’s like this sir. I’ve been checking Ali Hamsin’s family connections. According to this old report I’ve turned up his wife came from Jordan originally, not from Iraq and I wonder if she might still have relatives there. Also Rashid Hamsin might not have gone back to Iraq; he might have gone there too.’
‘To Jordan?’
‘Yes sir.’
Bruckner pursed his lips and finally nodded. ‘Ok listen up everyone, I want to make Jordan a priority. We have people on the ground in Amman, and I want them woken up and sent to work. I want the passenger lists for arrivals in Amman examined and the flights for the next few days. Don’t stop looking at the other places though; just work twice as hard, ok?’
He looked around the London ops centre and saw a renewed burst of feverish activity. He saw Hugh Fielding talking on the phone to his people in Vauxhall Cross, and the Englishman pointed to Weitzman and raised his thumb. Bruckner took the hint.
‘Ok Gary, good work,’ Bruckner called out somewhat grudgingly, and Weitzman gave a nod and a grin. ‘Samms, call the guys at Farnborough and get the aircraft readied for a trip to Amman,’ Bruckner growled, ‘and in the meantime why don’t you see if you can come up with something intelligent as well. Ok everyone, keep up the good work; let’s get the job done.’
‘In happier times we will drive down to Petra together,’ Adnan Marafi announced. ‘Have you ever been there, Daniel?’
‘No I haven’t, but… no never.’
‘Come on Dan what were you were going to say?’ Gerry asked.
‘I was going to say that I had seen it in a film. Not a documentary though; it was that Indiana Jones movie.’
‘Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade,’ supplied Marafi. ‘I enjoyed those films. When you have finished whatever it is you’re doing, we will go and find the Holy Grail together. I could do with a new… what do you say, leash on life.’
‘Lease of life,’ said Gerry. ‘I could do with one too, but first we need to find Rashid Hamsin.’
‘I am sure by the time we get to my house then my telephone inquiries will have borne fruit,’ said Marafi. ‘Apricots, avocados, very ripe.’ He kissed his fingertips. ‘Delicious!’ He looked in the rear view mirror and gave her a grin. ‘And you are still young and lovely Gerry, unlike me who grows old and grey.’
‘That’s because it’s getting dark,’ said Gerry. ‘First thing in the morning I’m middle-aged and grouchy, aren’t I Dan?’
‘You’re still lovely, but yes; very grouchy.’