Read Payback Online

Authors: James Barrington

Payback (43 page)

BOOK: Payback
6.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Richter grinned. ‘Honestly, it’s not as bad as it sounds. I first ran into him in France a while ago, during a covert op. He survived, but his boss didn’t, and I think he felt
grateful to me, despite the fact that we managed to completely foul up the Russian plan. Since then, I’ve worked with him in Russia, on a separate operation, and we’ve enjoyed what you
might call cautiously friendly relations.

‘Anyway, he refused to tell me the abort code for the stolen weapon because it’s classified. He said he’d try to get it declassified, but wasn’t very hopeful of doing
that quickly enough. But he insisted on giving me his mobile phone number, so that I could contact him immediately. In fact, he made me write it down.’

Richter pulled out his notebook to show Jackson what he’d written – 734 869 2658.

‘So, you’ve got his mobile number. So what?’

‘Look at it again, Carole. Bykov reminded me that I had to prefix it with the Moscow dialling code.’

‘Hang on a minute. If it’s a mobile, you never prefix it with an area code. All you put in front is the country code, and for Russia that’s a seven.’

‘Exactly, and the moment he said that, I guessed he was actually telling me something else. And Russian telephone numbers are seven digits long, not ten. The area code adds another three
numbers – like zero-nine-five for Moscow – making ten in all, but all ten-digit Russian numbers begin with a zero, not a seven.’

‘Unless he was knocking off the leading zero and adding the Russian country code. That’s a seven. That would work.’

Richter shook his head. ‘No. Bykov insisted I had to add the Moscow dialling code. And I tried dialling that number, with and without the country code for Russia and the area code for
Moscow. Every time it came back as number unobtainable. That’ – Richter pointed at the page of his notebook – ‘isn’t a telephone number in Russia, or anywhere else. I
think what Bykov gave me is actually the abort code for the weapon now sitting in the Burj Al-Arab Hotel.’

‘Are you sure?’ Jackson sounded far from certain.

‘No, I’m not. At least, I’m not convinced enough to give the number to Graham. I’d be prepared to input it into the weapon myself, but I wouldn’t ask anyone else to
try it, just in case I’m completely wrong.’

 
Chapter Twenty-Two

Tuesday
Police headquarters, Dubai

The police arrived at the Crowne Plaza at nine, and within fifteen minutes Richter and Jackson were sitting in the back of a Dubai police car – a white Mercedes saloon
with dark green doors sign-written in Arabic – and driving to Al-Etihad Street.

At the headquarters, they were ushered into a comfortable interview room. The door soon opened to admit a very tall thin Arab with a heavy black beard, wearing the uniform of a senior police
officer. He introduced himself as Chief Inspector Hafez Ghul and, like almost every other resident of Dubai that Richter had met so far, spoke perfect English.

‘Thank you for agreeing to meet us here,’ Ghul began. ‘I’ve been in contact with the government division organizing the ransom payment, and they’ve decided to delay
delivery of the final tranche to allow us time to review the situation. Despite this, the last instalment of the ransom will be delivered to the aircraft within three hours, so we’ve very
little time left. Now, why are you so certain the terrorists don’t have the abort code for the weapon?’

Richter quickly recounted his conversation with Viktor Bykov.

‘You’re sure this Russian intelligence officer has no reason to try and mislead you?’

‘No. In fact, absolutely the reverse,’ Richter replied firmly. ‘If that bomb detonates, experts would probably be able to establish that it was of Russian origin, and
that’s the last thing the government of the CIS would want. If Bykov could have told me the abort code without compromising his position, I’m sure he would have done so.’

For the moment, he decided not to mention Bykov’s ‘mobile phone number’.

‘So these terrorists are lying about something. It’s even possible that they don’t have a nuclear device in the hotel at all, but that seems the least likely scenario, as
they’ve supplied the serial number of the weapon to us and Inspector Hussein has actually seen it. If they
do
genuinely have the weapon, then either they’ve no intention of
setting the timer, and their threat is a bluff, or they
will
set it and reduce the Burj Al-Arab to rubble.’ Ghul glanced at his watch and looked back at Richter. ‘So we must
consider our options quickly. What would you recommend?’

‘It’s my belief that these Americans want revenge for the 9/11 attack on New York as much as they want the ransom money, so I’m certain that they
do
have the weapon and
they
will
set the timer. And as that’s the worst-case scenario, we might just as well work on that.

‘I think there are only two options. Either we attack them while they’re still holed up in the Burj, or we get into the suite immediately they’ve gone. Once they’ve left
the building, they no longer have access to the nuclear weapon and they can easily be stopped by the police. There might be an exchange of fire, but there are only four of them armed with handguns,
so the outcome shouldn’t be in any doubt. The aircraft can also be disabled – just have a sniper shoot out the tyres.’

The others nodded reluctant agreement with his summary.

‘Right, those are the options, but there are problems with both of them. Assaulting the suite would be difficult and dangerous. Dubai isn’t equipped for this kind of situation.
Countries faced with serious terrorist threats tend to keep highly trained paramilitary forces on standby, but not here. If we could call on the SAS, an assault might be worth considering, but even
then it would prove very difficult. The suite is situated near the very top of the hotel. They’ve booby-trapped the doors, and the only other way in is through the windows. Try abseiling down
from the helicopter landing pad, and that would become immediately obvious.

‘If you went in through the doors, you’d probably lose the first wave of your troops to the explosive charges, and then the terrorists would fight back. They seem pretty
professional, so you’d lose even more men in the fire-fight that would follow. And remember, they’ve got nothing left to lose. They know that if they’re captured, they’re
sure to be executed, so there’s no reason why they wouldn’t detonate the bomb. That’s the worst option, by far. The second is to wait until they’ve actually left the hotel.
The downside is that by then the weapon will have been armed. You’ve been told that they’ll set the timer for a period of four hours?’

‘Yes,’ Ghul nodded. ‘They said that would allow them time to get well clear of the area before transmitting the abort code.’

‘Well, my guess is that they’ll set it for a much shorter time than that. All they need do is get airborne because once they’re off the runway, the sooner the bomb goes off the
better for them. In the subsequent chaos and confusion, the last thing anyone will be thinking about is keeping track of their aircraft. I reckon they’ll set the fuse for two hours,
tops.’

‘So, what’s your recommendation?’

‘Make the payment, then let the terrorists get away from the hotel, but take them out somewhere between there and the airport.’

Ghul paused for a few moments before he spoke. ‘I’ll convey your recommendation to my superiors, though I can’t guarantee their agreement. There only seems one other matter to
consider – how do we defuse the weapon if we don’t have the abort code?’

Richter leant forward. ‘I may be able to help with that.’

Burj Al-Arab Hotel, Dubai

They were waiting only for the financial instruments – the bearer bonds and so on – to arrive, and then they could leave. A negotiator had confirmed, through
Hussein, that delivery of these might occur later than they’d hoped, but still within the timescale specified.

As far as O’Hagan could see, they would be on their way out of the hotel no later than noon.

Police headquarters, Dubai

A little before eleven, Hafez Ghul returned to the interview room and sat down heavily. He didn’t look happy.

‘I’m sorry to say that my government doesn’t believe the terrorists intend to detonate the bomb. The minister thinks they’re only interested in the ransom and, as long as
it’s paid, that will be the end of the matter.’

‘They’re wrong,’ Richter said flatly.

‘I agree,’ Ghul replied. ‘What you’ve said makes too much sense to be ignored.’

‘Is there anything you can do to change their mind?’

‘No.’ Ghul shook his head. ‘You have to understand our Arab mentality. The decision has been made, and that decision will now stand, no matter what further evidence anyone can
produce.’

‘But what about the abort code?’ Richter demanded in frustration. ‘You told them that the terrorists couldn’t possibly know it?’

‘Of course, but one of the government intelligence advisers believes you’re wrong, and that they
do
have the code. He’s certain that the number you were given is just a
piece of disinformation. He’s obtained further details about the theft of the weapon. Apparently an administrator was involved who had access to some of the documentation and so could have
supplied the abort code to the Americans.’

‘Yes, but how—?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Richter. That was what the government wanted to hear, and that’s what they did hear, whether it was the plain unvarnished truth or a complete fiction.
They’ve also instructed me to tell you that under no circumstances are you to take any further part in this operation.’

‘Message received. So what can we do now?’

‘Apart from putting as much distance as we can between ourselves and Jumeirah Beach in the next ninety minutes, obviously?’ Carole-Anne Jackson interjected.

‘Exactly.’ Ghul favoured her with a smile, but he was clearly uncomfortable about having a woman in the room, especially one Richter appeared to regard as an equal. ‘Despite my
instructions, I still believe you’re right. But what
can
we do?’

Richter thought for a few seconds. ‘So the Dubai government’s going to follow the terrorists’ demands to the letter? They’re not going to try to delay them on the
way?’

‘No,’ Ghul said, ‘but they’re also not clearing the roads for them.’

‘Good,’ Richter said. ‘Once you know they’ve left, could you arrange a convenient accident somewhere? Something to delay them slightly?’

‘That should be easy. We have enough accidents here as it is.’

‘And can you get me a helicopter – an armed helicopter?’

‘Possibly.’ Ghul paused to think. ‘There’s a Jet Ranger at the International Airport, and a Bell 212 down at Minhad Air Force Base, just a few kilometres southwest of
here. They’re not normally armed, but the 212 could be. We’ve a couple of miniguns stored at Minhad.’

‘Excellent,’ Richter said. ‘Have a minigun mounted in the Bell 212, and get it here as quickly as possible. If that’s going to be difficult, just organize the Jet Ranger,
and I’ll have to forget about the weapon.’

‘You have a plan?’ Jackson asked, as the police officer left the room.

‘Of a sort, I suppose. The chopper can take me to the landing pad at the top of the Burj. From there, I can get into the suite and disarm the nuke once the bad guys have left. Then
I’ll fly the Bell over to the airport and stop the Gulfstream.’

‘Jesus. I always thought a man with a plan was a dangerous thing. Just a few grey areas there, don’t you think? Like how are you going to get into the suite? And that’s just
for starters.’

‘I’ve got a few ideas,’ Richter said, ‘but you’re right – it’s not going to be easy.’

Ghul returned moments later. ‘We’re in luck,’ he announced. ‘One of the miniguns was already mounted in the Bell, and the ammunition drum is being fitted right now.
They’ll call me as soon as it’s ready for takeoff.’

‘Excellent. Two other things. Can you arrange for the helicopter to bring some plastic explosive and short-fuse detonators and a complete climbing kit? I’d prefer a Mitchell Climbing
System or a Double Bungie Rope Walker but if they can’t find either of those, an ordinary abseiling kit will do.’

‘You’re going to get inside from the helicopter pad? Do you have any idea how high that is?’

‘About two hundred and fifty metres, I reckon,’ Richter replied.

‘Heights don’t bother you?’ Ghul asked.

‘No. Falling scares the shit out of me, but heights don’t bother me at all.’

Dubai International Airport

Just after eleven-thirty a grey Mercedes drove onto the hardstanding and stopped beside the Gulfstream. In most respects, the aircraft was ready for take-off, after a
final refuelling carried out first thing that morning to replenish the fuel used by the APU. The only thing left was the balance of the ransom, and Sutter guessed that was in the Mercedes.

Twenty minutes later, Haig had examined enough of the bearer bonds and letters of credit to satisfy himself that they were genuine. Sutter called O’Hagan’s number on his mobile.

‘That’s everything,’ he said. ‘Over to you.’

Burj Al-Arab Hotel, Dubai

O’Hagan closed his phone. ‘We’ve got it,’ he announced. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Petrucci walked across to Hussein, who was still lashed to the chair. The police officer welcomed the news implied by O’Hagan’s remark. At last his ordeal was nearly over.

‘I’m going to call the lobby,’ Petrucci explained. ‘Tell them we’ll be down in a few minutes and to have a car ready. Warn them that we’ve placed explosives
on the doors, so if anyone attempts to enter the suite in the next three hours, the charges will explode. They must wait until we transmit the abort code for the weapon, and then we’ll tell
them how to get in.’

Petrucci called the lobby, and Hussein carefully passed on the message to the staff waiting anxiously below.

‘Very good,’ Petrucci said, ending the call. He picked up a bag and moved away.

Standing right beside the nuclear weapon, O’Hagan input numbers into a keypad, then closed the lid of the box that contained the device. The other two men picked up their bags and checked
their pistols.

BOOK: Payback
6.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Tuck's Revenge by Rory Flannigan
Pandora's Ring by Kaitlin R. Branch
Sucks to Be Moi (Prelude) by Kimberly Pauley
Virgin Dancer by Deborah Court
Whatever Gods May Be by Saunders, George P.
Night Music by John Connolly