The man gazed at her for a moment and then nodded.
‘Good!’ said Gerry. ‘And what will happen if you try to trick me in any way?’
‘You will use that welding torch on me.’
‘Yes that’s right. Now are you ready to make the call?’
Fifteen minutes later a heavily built man, aged about sixty, well over six feet tall stepped out of a Mercedes saloon, along with a younger man smaller in stature, but carrying a handgun. ‘Hamed! Where are you?’ The first arrival called out as he barged through the door.
‘Up in the office Ismail!’ the guard called out.
Ismail Farahat ran up the stairs and came in to his office. The two guards were seated on the chairs and behind them stood the two intruders. The man was clearly Euro or American. The women was harder to place; she was heavily tanned and dark haired and said ‘Good morning Ismail Farahat, peace be upon you,’ in well-spoken Arabic, and then when Farahat’s companion came in a few seconds later she said ‘Rashid Hamsin, peace be upon you. It’s been a few years since we met.’
And to his complete surprise Farahat heard his nephew reply in English ‘Sandra Travis; what the hell are you doing here?’
‘I need to talk to you Rashid.’
‘You two know each other then,’ said Farajat.
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ said Rashid ‘She’s a British spy.’
‘Oh! One of those creatures,’ said Farajat, ‘and I suppose you’re one of those shit-stirring American CIA people,’ he said to Dan in heavily accented English. ‘You Americans with your British friends clinging to your hands like some bad behaved child, you just make trouble everywhere!’
‘We just want to talk to you. We’re not here to make trouble,’ Dan replied.
‘Wait,’ said Farajat reverting to Arabic. ‘So let me understand this correctly? You two burgled my business and frightened these guards just because you wanted to find Rashid?’
‘Yes,’ said Gerry, ‘we haven’t disturbed anything.’
‘Then why didn’t you just get my telephone number and give me a call? Why all this business?’
‘She said she would burn my fingers off with a welding torch if I didn’t call you,’ said the security guard.
Farajat stared at Gerry. ‘You really are a piece of shit aren’t you?’
Gerry stared at him for a moment. ‘Yes I am,’ she said. She walked over to the window and gazed out into the street.
‘What did you say to her?’ said Dan, frustrated by his inability to understand the conversation but aware that she seemed upset.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Gerry. She turned round and wiped her face with a tissue ‘Let’s go.’
‘Go where’ Dan asked. ‘We have to find out about this damned Gilgamesh. Aren’t you going to tell Rashid about his father? What happened to him, how he died.’
‘He doesn’t want to know.’ She sniffed. ‘I think we may as well just go home now.’
‘Gerry, neither of us has a goddam home to go to!’ Dan protested.
‘What about my father?’ Rashid demanded, ‘we thought he was killed years ago.’
‘Hooked him,’ Gerry said to herself, ‘now to reel him in gently.’ She wiped her eyes one more time and then told herself to cut out the theatrics before she overplayed her act. ‘It’s a long story; perhaps we can go somewhere more comfortable,’ she suggested.
‘Ok, we can go to back to my home,’ said Farajat. ‘You don’t want these people in the same house as Nadia and the children.’
Gerry turned round and stared at Rashid. ‘Children… you have children?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I have two. You haven’t done your research then.’
‘We don’t think you go by the name of Rashid Hamsin any longer,’ said Dan. He looked over at Gerry who seemed on the verge of tears again.
‘No, I am Rashid Farajat now.’
‘And where is your mother?’
‘She died five years ago. She never got over losing my father.’
‘Do you want me to drive?’ Dan asked as Gerry walked to the passenger side while she fumbled for the car key.
She snapped out of her reverie. ‘No no, I’ll drive. I was just going to the driver’s side as if I was back in the UK.’
She followed Farajat’s car as he set off up the street.
‘You don’t think they’ll suddenly take off, try and lose us in traffic do you? Or telephone for the police.’
‘No. They want to be rid of us as quickly as possible so they’ll cooperate.’
They followed the Mercedes to a well-to-do district of the city and watched as a pair of motorised gates opened up in a walled garden. ‘Maybe I should park outside.’
They got out and walked through the gates Farajat was standing behind the car watching them walk up the drive and Gerry heard the gates rumbling and then clang shut behind them. He showed them into a comfortable sitting room. ‘Please sit down; would you like a drink?’
‘Just a bottle of water please,’ said Gerry.
‘That would suit me, thanks,’ said Dan.
‘Rashid’s just phoning his wife,’ he explained as he walked back into the room a minute later with a tray laden with soft drinks. ‘I hope this is not going to be too upsetting for him, this story.’
‘It will be upsetting for him, and for me,’ said Gerry. ‘He lost his father; I lost my fiancé and my daughter and I’ve spent the years since we last met in prison.’
‘What the hell…?’ said Rashid from the doorway.
She looked up at him. ‘Sit down and I’ll tell you the story. I’m sure you’ll have questions, so just stop me any time.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
It was nearly midnight when Gerry brought her narrative to an end by describing how she and Dan had broken into Farajat’s garage.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save your father. I’m sorry that you were ever involved. If you know where the Gilgamesh stuff is hidden you can tell us if you wish. I’ll not try and force you.’
Strangely enough she felt that some burden had been lifted by the retelling of her story to Rashid. Suddenly it no longer seemed important that she ever found out what Gilgamesh was about. She wondered if she and Dan should make their way to Indonesia or the Philippines where they could hide somewhere amongst their numerous islands. She looked at Dan for a moment. He probably had military notions of honour and duty and would feel a responsibility towards Felix Grainger and Richard Cornwall and maybe also to Dean Furness and Philip. She’d had enough. She just wanted the two of them to make a life for themselves somewhere safe.
‘Come back to the garage tomorrow morning,’ said Rashid. ‘I’ll have decided by then whether I’ll tell you anything.’
‘What?’ Dan exclaimed. ‘After all she’s been through and what happened to your father…’
‘That’s ok Dan; I’m happy with that,’ Gerry interrupted. ‘Is nine am ok?’
Ishmail and Rashid looked at one another. Ishmail shrugged. ‘It’s up to you, Rashid.’
‘Ok; nine tomorrow.’
‘Let’s go Dan.’
Outside in the car Gerry drove around the corner and then turned the car around.
‘Are we going the wrong way?’ Dan asked.
‘No, I want to see where Rashid lives; we’ll follow him.’
‘Oh, ok.’