The Pirate (40 page)

“So the Swiss police gave a sigh of relief when Fouad Aziz and Ramadan Sidki, the two who were considered the most dangerous because they were both experts in the use of bombs and weapons, boarded the plane with your daughter and left the country. You may be sure that they will never be granted a reentry visas.”

Baydr studied the paper for a moment. “Is there anything else?”

“Only this, monsieur,” Dupree answered. “I took the liberty of calling the school your daughter used to attend in Montreux. I hoped to get some information on several of the girls she had been seeing. But they couldn’t tell me anything, except that they had not seen your daughter since early last May, when she left school in the company of a gentleman named Mr. Yasfir who represented himself as an associate of yours. The school was told that they were going to join you at the Cannes film festival. She never returned.”

Baydr looked at Dick, then turned back to the private detective. “Thank you very much, Mr. Dupree. You’ve been most helpful.”

The detective sighed. “The children nowadays.” He opened his hands in a typically Gallic gesture. “I have a teen-age daughter myself. One never knows what they’re up to.” He bowed. “If there’s anything further I can do for you, Monsieur Al Fay, please do not hesitate to call on me.” He bowed to Dick and left the office.

Dick turned to Baydr. “I don’t like what I’m thinking, do you?”

“No.” Baydr let out a deep breath. “But at least now we know the plane is safe, even if we don’t know where it is.”

“It’s a big plane. They can’t hide one that size for long.”

“Maybe.” Baydr’s voice was noncommittal.

“What do we do now?”

“Wait.”

“Wait?” There was surprise in Dick’s voice.

“Yes.” Baydr looked up at him. “We were wondering what Ali Yasfir’s next move would be. Now we know. Soon he will be in touch with us to tell us that he wants.”

***

They stood at the edge of the small forest and looked back at the silver 707. Nine men were scrambling over the plane, putting the camouflage netting in place, so that it would be concealed from aerial view. Another plane would have to fly over it at less than twenty feet to spot it.

Jordana turned to Hyatt, who was standing near, his eyes fixed on the plane. “You put her down beautifully, captain. Thank you.”

“It was a little hairy there for a moment. I thought we were going to run into those trees at the end of the runway.” He turned back to the plane. “Why do you think they built a runway as big as this up here? From the looks of it, it’s at least three years since it’s been used.”

“I wouldn’t know, captain,” she said.

The man called Fouad came up to them. “Okay. Move out.” His English bore an American accent. He gestured with his gun toward the forest.

Jordana walked over to the children, who were standing between their nanny and her maid, Magda. The boys were watching the camouflaging of the plane with great interest. She took their hands and waited.

In front of them stood two soldiers in rough, poorly fitted battle uniforms. There were no markings on them to indicate what army, if any, they belonged to. At a signal from Fouad, they began to lead the way. Several other soldiers came up and walked beside them; others fell in behind. All held their rifles pointing at them.

Jordana walked silently with the children. Leila and Ramadan were nowhere to be seen. They had been the first off the plane and a few minutes after landing, they had disappeared.

The forest grew thicker and the branches of the trees and the bushes caught and tore at their clothing. Jordana tried to protect the children but within ten minutes there were scratches all over their arms and faces. She called to the nanny. “Anne, if you, Magda, Margaret and I walk in front with the children close behind us, they won’t get as many scratches.”

The nanny nodded and the other girls came up to join them, forming a semicircle with the children in the middle.

A few minutes later they came out of the forest onto a narrow dirt road. Two jeeps were parked there, each with a driver.

“Into the cars,” Fouad said. “The ladies with the children in the first car, the men in the second.”

A moment later the cars started up the road. It was narrow and bumpy and filled with potholes, a winding road that seemed to lead in and out of the forest but climbed continually up the side of the mountain. After about ten minutes, the air began to feel cooler.

Jordana looked up at the sky. It was growing dark. Evening had come. She turned to the boys, wishing she had thought to bring their coats. But they had been left aboard the plane along with everything else.

Five minutes later they came out of the forest into a clearing. At the edge of the clearing was a group of dilapidated wooden buildings. The buildings were surrounded by a low wall, on the top of which were mounted heavy machine guns at intervals. Each gun was attended by two soldiers. And there were searchlights on each corner.

Jordana looked up at the soldiers as they drove into the camp, and they returned her gaze with open interest. A few called ribald comments after them but they could not be heard over the noise of the rattling jeep engines.

The jeeps pulled to a stop in front of the largest of the buildings. The driver gestured for them to get out.

Two men came out of the building and stood watching them. Ramadan, now dressed in uniform, was one. But Jordana had to look twice before she recognized the other. It was the uniform that fooled her. The second soldier was Leila.

Leila came toward her. Somehow, in the uniform she seemed larger and coarser. All the prettiness that Jordana had seen in her was erased by the hardness of her manner. “You will occupy one cabin with the children and the other women,” she said. “The men another. Dinner will be brought to you in one hour. After you have eaten, the lights will be extinguished for the night. No smoking will be permitted after dark. From the sky the light from a cigarette can sometimes be seen for miles. Any infraction of our rules will be severely punished. Do you understand that?”

“You won’t get away with it,” Jordana said. “When your father learns about this there will be no place left on earth or in heaven for you to hide.”

Leila stared at her with contempt. “My father will do as he is told—that is, if he ever wants to see any of you alive again.”

CHAPTER 12

It was the next morning before they heard from him. His voice crackled over the wire. “We have important matters to discuss,” he said. “Much too important for the telephone. I think a meeting between us would be of mutual benefit.”

Baydr’s voice was cool. “It might.”

“Where would it be convenient for you?” Yasfir asked.

“I’m in my office.”

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea. With all due respect to you, there are too many opportunities to be overheard.”

“We would be alone.”

“Only Allah knows how many bugs lie hidden in the walls of buildings,” Yasfir said.

“Where do you suggest?”

“A mutually agreeable place, perhaps a bench in the park across the street from your hotel.”

“When will you be there?”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“I will be there.” Baydr put down the telephone. He pressed the buzzer on his desk. Dick came into the office. “He wants me to meet him in the park across the street from the hotel. Do you think our electronics man can pick up our conversation with a telescopic microphone from here?”

“I don’t know. We can try.”

“Get him up here then. We only have fifteen minutes.”

The man was in the office in less than ten. Baydr took him to the window and pointed to the park across the street. “Can you get us from here?”

“Maybe,” the man answered. “It depends on a lot of things. Street noises. Movement. It would help if you were to remain in one place.”

“I don’t know,” Baydr answered. “A great deal will depend on the other man.”

“I’ll set up. We’ll see what happens.”

The man worked swiftly. He was checking out his amplifiers when Dick stuck his head in the door. “It’s almost time.”

Reluctantly Baydr got ready to leave. He would have preferred to wait a few minutes more to find out whether the electronic eavesdropper would work but he was afraid to be late. He walked through the outer office to the door. Jabir rose to follow him.

Baydr gestured. “Wait here,” he said.

Jabir returned to his seat. As soon as the door had closed behind Baydr, Dick beckoned to him. “Your master will be in the park across the street,” he said. “Follow him but keep your distance and do not allow him to see you. I fear for him.”

Jabir nodded and without speaking left the office. When he came out of the entrance to the hotel, Baydr was already crossing the street. Jabir stationed himself near the corner, where he could keep his eyes on him.

Baydr crossed the street and entered the small park. An old woman was sitting on the first bench, wrapped against the cold autumn winds, feeding the pigeons. Baydr sat down on the far end of the bench away from the old woman. He looked up and down the path. There was no one there—not even office workers taking a shortcut on their way to work. He reached for a cigarette.

Fifteen minutes later, he was on his fourth cigarette and beginning to wonder whether Yasfir had led him on a wild-goose chase when abruptly the old woman got up and left the bench. His eyes followed her curiously as she walked to the curb outside the park and got into a taxi. Odd that a woman dressed as shabbily as she should be able to afford a taxi. Then the thought struck him. He looked at the corner of the bench where she had been sitting. There under the bag of peanuts she had left behind was a sheet of ordinary white paper. His eyes scanned the typewritten message.

It was signed BROTHERHOOD OF PALESTINIAN FREEDOM FIGHTERS.

Slowly Baydr got to his feet and started back to his office in the hotel. Dick was waiting for him as he came in the door.

“What happened? We didn’t see anyone and we couldn’t pick up anything.”

“No one came,” Baydr said. “Only this.” He gave the paper to Dick, who followed him into his office.

He went behind the desk and sank heavily into his chair. Dick continued to read the paper while the electronics expert quickly gathered his equipment and left.

“They’re crazy,” Dick said when he had finished. “There’s no way you can comply with this.”

Baydr nodded in weary agreement. There was no way he could satisfy the third and last request. He didn’t own fifty percent of the companies in his name. At best, he averaged a twenty percent equity. “I know that and you know that,” he said in a tired voice. “But they don’t know that. And how do you negotiate with someone who won’t talk to you? Someone you can’t find?”

“We’ll have to find him. There must be a way.”

“We’ll find him all right, but what worries me is what will happen to the children and Jordana when we do.”

“Then what can we do?” Dick asked.

“First we’ll make arrangements to make that deposit every day and let the shipments go through as they requested. That will buy us time.”

“Those shipments can cause the death of hundreds of people in the States. I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.”

“Neither do I. We will have to find a way to stop the shipments on the other side.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I have a friend in New York, Paul Gitlin. He is an attorney, a man of great moral force, and with a strong sense of justice. I am sure that he will understand my position and respect our confidence. He will find a way to stop the shipments there and protect us at the same time.”

“And then?”

“We must use our time to find out where they are keeping my family and get them out.” He rose from the chair and walked to the window. “Arrange the bank deposits and place the call to New York,” he said, without turning around.

“Yes, sir,” Dick said, starting from the office.

“And, Dick.”

Dick turned back.

Baydr was facing him. There were lines on his face that Dick had never seen before. “Call Uni-Jet and charter a plane for me. I will pick up my father in Beirut and we will go together to see the Prince. Perhaps he will be able to help us.”