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Rain on the Dead

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2019
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Hannah moved in from the corridor, limping, a walking stick in her right hand. ‘What a couple of beauties.’

‘You show some respect, girl,’ Tod told her. ‘We’ve been away earning a crust. Takes money to run this place.’

‘Where to this time?’

Kelly looked hunted, but Tod said, ‘Nothing much, just inspecting the security system for the company that runs the ferries from Harwich to the Hook of Holland. No big deal.’

‘A pity.’ She tossed some matches into Tod’s lap. ‘I found those in the kitchen. They advertise a café in Nantucket. That would have been much more exciting.’

She went out, and Meg picked up the matches.

‘I wonder where these came from?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ Tod said. ‘I don’t know.’

She said, ‘You told me you were dressing up to put one over on a rival firm for someone you were working for?’

‘So we were,’ he said. ‘Just business, Meg. Is she pleased about the Royal College of Music?’

‘I’m not really sure. It’s not residential, so accommodation is going to be a problem with it being London.’

‘Don’t worry, these days we’ve got plenty of money. Just keep on cutting and bring back my auburn hair.’

Which she did, cut Kelly’s very short and darkened the white to grey.

‘Marvellous,’ Tod said. ‘I feel human again. Let’s have dinner.’

Ferguson’s Daimler and driver were waiting when the Gulfstream landed at Farley. Dillon had left his Mini Cooper there, but Sara had nothing.

‘I’ve decided not to go home tonight,’ Ferguson said. ‘I’d like to have words with Roper sooner rather than later, so I’ll stay in the guest wing at Holland Park.’

Dillon often did the same, and said, ‘I’d like to join you.’

‘That’s fine by me, but I expect you’ll be wanting a lift to Highfield Court to see your grandfather?’ he said to Sara.

‘He won’t be there, he’s touring the lecture circuit. “God and the Mind of Man,” his favourite topic. Everyone wants Rabbi Nathan Gideon these days.’

‘And so they should,’ Dillon told her. ‘He’s a great man.’

‘Actually, I’d welcome your input, Captain,’ Ferguson said, ‘So jump in and we’ll be on our way. We’ll see you there, Dillon.’

When Roper returned from the shower, it was to find that Ferguson and the others had arrived and had gone upstairs to unpack, but he had another visitor waiting.

Dr Ali Saif was an Egyptian with an English grandmother who’d not only sent him to Eton but supplied him with a UK passport under filial law. A brilliant scholar, a senior lecturer in archaeology at London University, he had initially found Osama’s message attractive enough for him to offer his services to the Army of God charity. As with others, one could be drawn into the activities of Al Qaeda without realizing it, especially with the hypnotic tones of the Master on the telephone to guide you.

He’d been caught in a bad situation, however, and his decision to act on the side of right had not only saved lives but impressed Ferguson enough to save him from prison and find a use for his talents as an interrogator of Muslims suspected of terrorism, at Tenby Street safe house run by MI5.

‘Have they arrived?’ Ali enquired, and before Roper could answer him, Ferguson, Sara, and Dillon walked in.

‘Ali, it’s you,’ Ferguson said in surprise.

‘We were talking earlier,’ Roper told him. ‘He’s been fully informed about the latest development. After his past services to us, I felt he could be trusted to keep it to himself.’

‘Your account of Belfast 1979 was extraordinary, Mr Dillon,’ Ali said. ‘It’s certainly possible that these men, Flynn and Kelly, could have something to do with the affair. I’ve already learned in my short time at MI5 that individuals from dissident Irish groups have used their past experience in all kinds of violent situations, from Eastern Europe to the Middle East. Does anyone else know?’

‘No, actually, which is rather interesting.’ Ferguson said. ‘I haven’t mentioned them to anybody, not even the Prime Minister.’

‘So what are you going to do?’ Roper asked. ‘Keeping the PM uninformed seems risky to me.’

‘You’ll have to wait and see.’ He turned to Ali Saif. ‘I need hardly remind you that what you’ve heard is privileged and not for your masters at MI5. Now, meanwhile, you’ve had personal experience with AQ in London. What’s your take?’

Sara said, ‘Considering it’s not very long since the last Master died, this new one seems to have got to work pretty quickly.’

‘But Al Qaeda is organized for such situations,’ Ali told her. ‘There is a Grand Council, nobody knows where, which issues its decisions in Paris. General ben Levi was killed in London, and nobody outside the Council knew his true identity until the day he died. His replacement, from what little we have discovered about this worldwide cult, will have been put in place instantly.’

‘So what was the purpose of the attempt on Jake Cazalet’s life?’

‘He looked like easy meat, and they would have destroyed an American icon, shown the world they could get away with it, given two fingers to the Great Satan.’

‘Only they didn’t,’ Ferguson said.

Ali nodded. ‘Because of the coincidence of your visit, General.’

‘Ironic, really,’ Dillon said. ‘If the President hadn’t decided to have us privately thanked, Cazalet would be dead now.’

‘Exactly.’ Ali shrugged. ‘Of course, the Grand Council will want revenge. They will attack us here in London, a spectacular, perhaps. You notice I say us because I must include myself now. I’m a turncoat of the first order, as far as they’re concerned. If I dared to show my face at Pound Street, I’d be stoned.’

‘Come, come, Ali, we mustn’t exaggerate. The Army of God is a legally organized charity. Their dispensary serves all denominations, and the imam of the mosque, Hamid Bey, is highly respected.’

‘Smoke and mirrors, General. As you say, I have had personal experience with AQ. The City Corporation, the police, tread carefully for political reasons. In my time when I was on the wrong side, the Master spoke to me on a regular basis, and I’m not naive enough to think I was the only one. As for Hamid Bey, he is a dog and not to be trusted.’

‘All right, I’ll take your word for it,’ Ferguson said. ‘We’ll have to take extra care from now on.’

Ali opened his jacket to show a Walther in a shoulder holster. ‘I’m also wearing a nylon-and-titanium vest. I hope the rest of you are.’ He smiled, leaned down, and kissed Sara’s hand gallantly. ‘You always astonish one, Captain Gideon. God is good to you.’ He nodded to the others. ‘If you’ll excuse me, General, I’m on night duty at Tenby Street.’ He turned and walked out.

‘My goodness,’ Ferguson said. ‘He’s really come on. It was a wise choice to take a chance on him. I’m sure you’ll all take heed of his advice. His experience with this cult of the Master thing is obviously unique. Anyway, I think we could also do with some supper. Let’s see what the kitchen’s got for us. As for Hamid Bey, I always thought the bastard was too good to be true.’

There was a loud bang, the front door crashed open, and Doyle shouted, ‘Help, man down!’

Dillon and Sara ran out into the hall, to find Doyle dragging a hospital trolley out of the hallway and outside.

The Judas gate had swung open and Ali Saif was lying half outside it. As they raced toward him, Doyle said, ‘He told me he was going to walk back to Tenby Street, so I accompanied him, opened the Judas gate, and somebody shot him. He bounced off the gate, half turning. There was a second shot, he staggered into me and went down. Silenced weapon, just a couple of coughs. God knows I’ve heard enough of those in my time.’

Sara appeared with two wound packs and ripped one open as she examined Ali, who was obviously in shock, eyes staring.

‘The vest seems to have stopped one round, but the other has ploughed into his right thigh, no protection there.’ She staunched the blood flow as best she could. ‘Help me, Sean, there are morphine ampoules in the pack, get one into him.’

Ferguson was talking briskly into his phone, and Ali reached and clutched Sara. ‘You must take care, Sara. I told you the Grand Council wants revenge and I’m the first to be punished. The traitor …’
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