Scheider felt his gut go tight. If Portman was planning on breaking the two Brits out of the villa, he was cutting it very fine. And any injuries would slow them all down. And where would they run to?
Unless he had other orders.
Jesus, surely …?
He turned to Wishaw to blank out the unthinkable idea. ‘Make sure Moresby has this footage right away, will you? And copy Vale. I’m going to call him now.’
He went over to his desk and dialled Vale’s number.
The SIS man answered immediately.
‘Don’t you ever sleep?’ said Scheider.
‘Sleep? What’s that?’ Vale sounded rough, and cleared his throat. ‘Sorry. Too much coffee and not enough fresh air. What’s up?’
‘Your man’s gone on the offensive. He’s blowing up boats and shooting people as we speak. He’s turned the place into a war zone. I’m sending you and Moresby the latest footage just in. I suppose you wouldn’t care to share, would you?’
‘Um, yes.’ Vale’s voice was flat, but he didn’t sound surprised. ‘Portman found evidence that these talks are a scam. There was never any intention of releasing hostages; the negotiations were a ploy to draw in our people.’
‘Why?’ Scheider could think of only one reason. Targeted kidnaps. The idea chilled him. It put anybody with official status or standing who went through the region in dire peril. But was it likely? ‘They can hardly need more hostages.’
‘It’s worse than that. Musa’s got the one he needs.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘Angela Pryce. He’s going to execute her at dawn, along with Tober. Adrabu fawq al-’ana. You know what that is?’ Vale sounded tired. He’d been right all along about the mission and Scheider felt for him.
‘Yes. I know.’ As tough as he was, as accustomed to death and the deadly game played out by extremists, he felt himself shrink from the imagery Vale had placed in his mind. ‘Jesus, why?’
‘Propaganda, making a point — choose any reason you like. They’re extremists; what they do doesn’t have to make sense.’
‘I get that. But how do you know this?’
‘Portman got to somebody inside the villa. They’ve set up a camera ready to burn to DVDs. By tomorrow evening it’ll be beamed around the world to every website prepared to take it. Another twenty-four hours and it will be on sale in every radical mosque, shop and bazaar in the region. This wasn’t an impulse decision to change the game — this was planned.’
Scheider didn’t know what to say. ‘What’s Portman going to do?’
‘He’s going to stop it happening.’ A phone rang in the background at Vale’s end, and he sounded relieved. ‘I’m sorry — I think that’s me being called to a meeting. It’s probably about your footage. Thank you for that, by the way. It’s good of you. I appreciate it.’
‘Wait.’ Scheider was stunned by this turn of events and by Vale’s calmness. There was something the Englishman wasn’t telling him. Men with Vale’s experience didn’t give up that easily. ‘You’ve given Portman fresh instructions, haven’t you? What did you tell him to do?’
There was a long pause. ‘I told him not to let them suffer.’
Scheider’s breathing became choked. He thought he’d come across every scenario possible in his time, but not this one. It was nothing short of a suicide mission. There was no way any man could pull this off. ‘And he agreed?’
‘He gave me his word … and I believe him.’
The line went dead.
Forty-Nine
‘I’ve received disturbing reports from our American friends of unusual activity to the north of Kamboni, picked up with live footage from a CIA drone targeted over the area where the meeting is to take place.’ The dramatic statement came from Colin Moresby forty minutes later. He was standing behind his office chair, addressing Vale and the controllers for Africa and Middle East, Bill Cousins and Peter Wilby, and the duty MOD liaison officer, Colonel Mike Ventura.
They had all been summoned from their beds by messenger and fast car, and Vale from his office, where he’d been mulling over the revelations of what Portman had told him and now Scheider’s camera work.
‘What kind of activity?’ queried Ventura. A slim man with a stern face and a scar down one side of his neck, the result, Vale had heard, of close proximity to an IED in Iraq, he had the directness typical of most military men and none of the fondness for equivocation of the civil service.
‘Explosions and small arms fire.’ Moresby leaned forward and touched a button on his desk console, and a wall monitor behind him sprang into life. There was complete silence as the assembled officers watched, until Moresby switched it off again.
He looked, observed Vale, as if it had shaken him.
‘Any comments?’
‘Could be the Kenyan Defence Force,’ Bill Cousins suggested. ‘Kamboni’s right on their supply route in and out of the area. They might have run into extremists.’
‘We asked them that already. The Kenyans are denying any ongoing operations south of the port of Kismaayo, and no confrontations with extremists in the last twenty-four hours.’
‘Do you believe them?’
‘I have to. They’ve responded by accusing the UN of an unauthorized incursion, and demanding to be told how we know about the explosions. We’re playing dumb, of course, but something’s going on and it’s right on top of where the talks are taking place.’ As he spoke, his eyes settled on Tom Vale for a second before moving on. ‘It’s possible, I suppose — and I don’t discount the view — that a rival extremist group has got into a fight with Musa’s people. But until we get confirmation of that, we’re at a loss.’
And that, thought Vale, hits it right on the button. You don’t know and you didn’t think it out beforehand. He clamped his teeth together to stop himself speaking and keep his face under control. Tempting as it was to tell the assembled company about Portman, his private hit man, and the proposed execution of Pryce and Tober, it would serve no purpose. It was still Moresby’s operation and throwing that kind of grisly news into the air wouldn’t alter anything, short of setting the chickens running round the coop to no avail.
‘How did you hear about it?’ he asked. ‘I thought there were no assets in the area.’
‘Until a very short while ago, there weren’t. As you know, that was a condition of the negotiations — along with the immediate territory around there.’ He smiled thinly and drummed with one hand on the back of his chair. ‘But the Americans put up a drone and were right on target to pick up the action as it happened. They’re analysing the footage as we speak, but they’ve given me a heads up on first impressions.’
Jesus, Vale thought grimly, as Moresby’s eye caught his for a split second. He’s talking as if he’d had it stitched up all along. But I know different.
‘If it’s right where the meeting’s taking place,’ ventured Peter Wilby, ‘that’s not good news for our people, is it?’
It brought a frown to Moresby’s face and he shuffled around to take his seat. ‘No. Indeed. But until we get more information, I don’t think we should jump to conclusions. These talks always carried a small element of risk, but we know Xasan is keen to make a success of them, and getting these UN people out is a major factor in why we went ahead with it.’
‘What are their chances if they’ve been caught in the middle of a factional dispute?’ This came from Bill Cousins. He was referring to Pryce and Tober, not the UN hostages. ‘They’re hardly likely to be flavour of the month, are they? They’ll be shipped north to join the others.’