A Line in the Sand (21 page)

"Of course

wn in by Fenton, and Cox was hovering behind.

He was sho

thought the man looked as if he'd just stepped off the Ark.

Markham

Mr.

"It's

Littelbaum, Geoff, from Riyadh. You told him you did the

"donkey's load", so he's come to offer you some oats. You're his ith us," Fenton said.

liaison w

. It was that sort of depressing morning where the

Markham stood

pieces

ate and refused to slot. Nothing to report from SB's

were obstin

erations centre on the target, Juliet Seven.

op

There was no trace

on

from Nottingham.

Yusuf Khan

The associate, the woman thrown up by

Rainbow Gold, had moved from the address listed for her electricity and

telephone bills, but he had, small mercies, registration details for

, about as common a small saloon as any on the road.

her car

an had wild grey hair, which needed cutting.

The Americ

His tie was

stained with food and, from the tight knot, seemed only to be loosened night

each

so that the noose could be pulled over his head. The shirt

was new but already there was grease on it. He wore a brown

three-piece herringbone suit, what a solicitor might have worn thirty years back in north Lancashire, and the creases said he'd travelled in

it. But he had alive, penetrating eyes. Markham glanced down at

his

watch.

"I apologize, but I did tell you, Mr. Fenton, I have to be at an 131

t over the lunch-hour." And he added limply, "A family

appointmen

business appointment. I can't cut it and I can't be late either."

Fenton said, dry, "I hope the family business is important Mr.

has flown three thousand miles so that he can offer us

Littelbaum

the

nefit of his experience. Bring him back to me."

be

Cox were gone.

Fenton and

d, tried to tidy his desk space, merely confused the papers

He shuffle

and his notes.

"Would you like a coffee, Mr. Littelbaum?"

"Only if you can put whiskey in it."

"Can't," he said sheepishly.

"At the donkey level it's not permitted to keep alcohol in the work t a reprimand and it would go on my record."

area. I'd ge

ry.

"Not to wor

Where I come from it's a capital crime, Mr. Markham."

ere I'm Geoff please, feel free."

"In h

ll have to forgive me I'm not familiar with people who

"Then you'

aren't

friends. I take it as a lack of respect and common courtesy. Right now, Mr. Markham, and I'm sure you know it, you're sitting on the big

one."

"Right now it's all ends, frayed and not tying. I don't know what I'm

sitting on."

"OK, OK. The target, Hughes/ Perry

"We've call-signed him as Juliet Seven."

"OK, Juliet Seven. Is he still refusing relocation?"

"Yes."

"What have you done for him?"

132

"We have given him specialist police protection.~ "They got howitzers?"

"They would have machine pistols and handguns."

"How many?"

Markham said, dispirited, "There are two, each doing a twelve-hour shift."

"Fuck."

"It's a matter of resources."

"Are you listening, Mr. Markham? This is the big one. I know him as

the Anvil. I don't have another name for him. I don't have his face.

He was in Alamut. Did you read, like I told you to, about Alamut?

Of

course you didn't. Donkeys don't have time to read, donkeys just

get

the shit piled on them. The Anvil was in Alamut - I hate that name, it's crass and comic-book, but it's the name that's whispered in the souk, in the mosque and in the theological colleges throughout Saudi Arabia, so it's real enough for me. The Anvil goes to Alamut, each time, before he travels for the hit. I know so little of him, but he's

t, and he's dedicated.

the bes

That he goes to Alamut is important

because it is the small window I have into his mentality. Please, Mr.

Markham, when I'm talking to you don't look at your wristwatch. And travelling and his target is your Juliet Seven.

now he is

ou rush away to whatever is important, take time out for

"Before y

a

little history. Alamut is a few kilometres north-west of Quasvin

where

there is a terrorist training camp run by the Iranian Revolutionary ps. At Alamut, nine hundred years ago, Hasan-i-Sabah

Guards Cor

founded

the sect of Assassins. The modern word is from the same root core as

"hashish" Western scholars believed the killers were drugged or they have gone forward against guarded and near impossible

would not

targets. I doubt they were drugged, they just weren't scared. For 133

two

ed years the Assassins, the living cult of political murder,

hundr

created terror from

Syria down through Lebanon and Palestine and into old Persia because fear of death, and worshipped the notion of martyrdom.

they had no

He

re, to what is now a few stones on a mountainside,

goes the

unrecognizable as a fortress, to gain the courage that will push him forward.

etty damn easy to guard against a killer who's looking

Pr

to

ep the skin intact on his back but pretty hard, Mr.

ke

Markham, to

block the killer who has no concern for his own survival and he's

your Juliet Seven.

coming after

Maybe you don't believe me, maybe

you

Alamut case histories to crank up my credibility..."

need the

himself for saying it, but said it anyway.

Markham hated

nk I'm being rude, Mr.

"Don't thi

Littelbaum, but I really do have

to

go."

ed at finding cover.

He was skill

he skill that had dictated his survival in the flood plains

It was t

around the Faw peninsula and the water channels between the reeds

of

ands, and in the mountains of Afghanistan,

the Haur-al-Hawizeh marshl

d in the desert wilderness of the Empty Quarter, and in the forest an

near to the village in southern Austria. He could find cover and

use

it.

At the edge of a small group of trees was dense, thorned scrub. He had

gone so quietly into the trees that he had not disturbed the roosting and then crawled on his stomach into the depth of the

pheasants,

scrub.

A rat had passed within three metres of him and not seen him. If

a

farmer came into the field he would find no trace of him. The rain ed

dripp

rhythmically down on him from the thorn branches of the scrub.

Beside him was the sausage bag. In it was what he had thought he

could

carry across country and still retain the speed of movement.

134

The cover was well chosen. He had a clear view across a hundred

metres

of grassland field to an open gateway, and through the gateway to

the

signpost at the crossroads. He waited. His stomach rumbled with

hunger, but a few hours without food did not concern him: food was for

sustenance, not for enjoyment. He waited.

He had seen a police car come down the road with a blue light flashing in the dawn, then an ambulance. His driver's pulse had been faint, the

breathing erratic and gasping, the head wound bleeding. It had not been necessary to finish the man's life. He would not regain

consciousness, would be dead by the end of the day. He had thought the

man foolish, and had then corrected himself, because the man had

achieved the state of martyrdom in the service of the Faith. He

should

not think badly of him. The ambulance had come back through the

crossroads with the bell going and the light brilliant against the dark

rain clouds Later he had seen a towing truck pull away the wrecked car.

There were only bruises and small scratches on his own body and he took

that as a sign. His life was in God's hands. His work was God's

work.

God watched for him. There had been setbacks before, however

thorough

the planning, and he had overcome them. He would do so again.

He had waited three hours and fifty-one minutes when the car finally came.

It was small

a

car, old. He could not see the driver at that distance.

It drove past the signpost and disappeared behind the hedgerow, then reversed back into his vision. The car stopped in the field gate.

The

brake-lights flashed twice.

He breathed hard. There were times in the life of Vahid Hossein when his safety, his life and his freedom rested in his own hands only, and

135

d's.

Go

There were times, also, when he must give his trust to the

intelligence officers who controlled him.

It had been written, "Once you engage in battle it is inexcusable to

or hesitation."

display sloth

He crawled from the thorn scrub.

"Take no precautions for your own life."

heasants clattered in flight

He hurried through the trees and the p

ove him.

ab

t is destined to sleep in the grave will never again sleep

"He tha

at

me."

ho

g the hedgerow towards the gate. He reached the small

He ran alon

car.

pen the door and heaved the weight of the bag into the back.

He flung o

The engine was turning. He dived for the seat, slammed the door shut, and the car jerked forward. He swivelled in his seat.

He sat beside a woman.

He sat beside a woman with the skin of her face exposed, and her

d the skin of her thighs above her knees and below her

forearms, an

tight skirt.

He sat beside a woman whose body was scented with soap and lotion.

e said, "It's what they told me to do.

Sh

They told me I should give

up

clothing of decency. I'm sorry to offend you."

the

on the pavement and looked around him. There were no

He stood

concrete

posts outside the building to prevent a car bomb being left under

the

facade. The building was glass-fronted, not heavy stone, with

small,

windows.

laminated

inside and a pleasant young woman directed him to the lift.

He went

She

136

guards beside her and there would not have been hidden guns

had no

within reach under her desk.

He came out of the lift and pushed through an unlocked door. There was

no requirement for a personal security card.

Geoff Markham wanted.

It was what

fter the ambulance had gone, and after the recovery vehicle

Long a

had

k, the two traffic policemen worked with their

towed away the wrec

cameras and tape measures. From what they'd seen it would go to the court and an inquest, and there were a hell of a number

coroner's

of

questions to be answered a young black paying cash for the hire of a

13MW 5-series and not being able to handle it, writing it off and

himself and the technical investigation looked to be the best last chance of finding the answers.

traffic policemen stopped work for a sandwich lunch.

The two

One,

after he'd eaten, the elder one, complained of his bladder and slipped through a hedge hole.

He didn't notice the canvas sack, rammed down into the base of the hedge, until he'd finished and was shaking himself. He would not

have

seen it if he hadn't been standing almost on top of it. He bent and open.

pulled it

ffic policeman shouted to his colleague to come, and bloody

The tra

fast, and showed him a black rubber wet suit, a pair of trainer shoes, quashed sales dockets, before pointing down into the bag

and some s

at

grenades.

the hand

ove well, confidently.

She dr

She was not intimidated by the heavy

lorries. His own wife, Barzin, did not drive. He admired the way she

drove, but he was ashamed that each time she punched her foot on the brake or the accelerator he could not keep his eyes from the smooth whitened skin of her thighs. She would have seen him flinch and

flush.

"They called me when I was asleep, told me it was urgent. I just 137

took

the first clothes that came to hand I didn't find any stockings. I t's what you'd call bad he jab yes?"

suppose i

a mullah, he had heard, who had stayed inside his house

There was

for

thirty years, never gone outside his house, never dared to, for fear that he would see a woman improperly dressed, bad he jab and be

corrupted... She kept in the slow lane of the wide motorway skirting London. Never in his life had he been driven by a woman. The diesel fumes of the lorries came and went, but constant in the car was the soft scent of soap and lotion.

She saw the twitch of his nostrils.

out last night with some girls from work. One of them's

"I went

getting married next weekend. We went out for some drinks

I

no, don't

drink alcohol, but I can't tell them it's for my belief. I have to tell a little lie, I say I don't drink for a medical condition. They've told me to be like everyone else, and that way I can better serve