No Remorse Part 13

"Let's just hope you haven't blown our cover by stalking Sheriti."

He held back the urge to bite. "Also, I put the bug on the stem rail. You can monitor the receiver while I rest." He handed her the device, then lay back, closed his eyes, and was out in seconds.

35.

Ziad practiced his smile as he looked at his reflection on the computer monitor. He was working alone in his cabin on the Princess Aliya while waiting for Sadiq to bring Bill Fanning to him. Time spent alone lessened the chances of one of the annoying migraines. He finished typing an abrupt email to The Frenchman reminding him that he was waiting for confirmation of the dates for the next shipment of young slaves. Emil was being more tardy than usual, and had failed to respond in the last few days. He needed to bring his supplier into line. He clicked the icon to send off the message. The laptop screen flickered for a second and then resumed processing the email.

In his reflection, Ziad saw the face of triumphant success for a boy who, when barely five years old, had been dumped by his mother at a Karachi madra.s.sa. She had left him and become a street wh.o.r.e after her husband was beheaded for partic.i.p.ating in the siege of the Holy Mosque in Mecca in 1979.

His father's martyrdom was no excuse for his mother to abandon her young son, and at the madra.s.sa he was treated badly by the mullahs and bullied by other boys because of his father's "deviant" beliefs. They mocked his first name, Adnan. He worked hard to develop strength and street cunning, and eventually the bullying stopped. He was a brilliant student, and he was awarded a scholarship to study engineering at Karachi University.

But he didn't forget. Or forgive.

Soon after he graduated, he returned to the madra.s.sa and smashed the skull of the cruellest mullah, using a Y steel post. Then he tracked down the leader of the bullies and slashed his throat as the man lay in bed with his terrified wife. After he was done with the bully's wife, Ziad went out and found his own neglectful mother on the streets and strangled her, smiling as he watched her startled eyes bugging out of her head as she died, fully understanding why.

That week was the birth of his new life. Now he used only his last name. Ziad was a strong name. His father's name. And in the eleven years or so since Khalid had first engaged him to organise a half-ton shipment of Afghan heroin, he had become wealthy in his own right.

His laptop made a soft beep as another email arrived in his inbox. It was from Rockfire, his Al Qaeda contact. He smiled, and moved his mouse to open the email.

A knock at the door.

"Enter!" he called out in a buoyant tone, quickly folding his laptop closed. He had been looking forward to this meeting since they had arrived in Dubai. It was time to get rid of the Fanning problem.

Bill Fanning entered his cabin, followed in by Sadiq, his most trusted security man, who closed the door and locked it. Sadiq rubbed a thick scar that ran from his left eyebrow down his cheek, from having a gla.s.s being smashed in his face in a Ma.r.s.eilles bar. It had left him blind in one eye. But the other fellow had come off far worse.

"You wanted to see me, Ziad?" Fanning asked.

Good. He didn't suspect anything. "Ah yes, Bill. I understand you have concerns about not being able to go ash.o.r.e." He kept his tone polite but cool.

"Well, I don't see-"

He raised his hand and his lips curled in a smile. "I have exciting news, Bill! Mai is on her way here now, with little George. His Highness is looking forward to greeting them when he returns from the funeral. He has insisted on taking them for a celebratory cruise."

Fanning's face drained of colour as he broke out in a sweat. The falseness of his awkward smile was evidence enough of his guilt. "That's wonderful, Ziad. However, if you recall, Mai doesn't like boats. Perhaps His Highness would allow me to treat us to a few days at the Burj Al Arab?"

Ziad decided to play along. It amused him to watch Fanning squirm, just as he would soon enjoy watching the man beg for mercy as his wife was tortured in front of his eyes. "Perhaps that can be arranged, Bill. But regardless, His Highness wishes to speak with her. When she arrives, Sadiq will inform you."

"But I've told you already, my wife knows nothing about the project."

"Was I suggesting that she did, Bill?"

"Well, no, but-"

"As I recall, your contract requires that you keep no copies of any codes, plans or keys. a.s.suming you've sent nothing to your wife, neither of you has anything to fear, Bill. But I have no intention of playing games. You have contractual obligations and I intend to see them adhered to. So if you haven't given us full disclosure, now is your last chance to do so without penalties. And let's be absolutely clear, there will be penalties. Your wife and son are our guarantee that you will provide full disclosure."

Fanning swallowed. The threat was clear now. He glanced at the door, as though considering whether to make a run for it. Sadiq crossed his arms like a nightclub bouncer spoiling for a fight.

"I have nothing to disclose," Fanning said, on the offensive. "I've complied with your confidentiality requirements. I must say I'm deeply offended by these insinuations. Deeply offended! I'll have something to say to His Highness on this matter when-"

Ziad felt a sudden spike of pain inside his head and could no longer contain himself at the man's bl.u.s.tering arrogance. He leapt from his chair and rammed Fanning against the wall. "You fool! We have Sergei monitoring our computers. Do you not understand what a keylogger is?" His nose was almost touching Fanning's. "We've decrypted every email you've sent to your Dubai office in the last six months. It makes very interesting reading. But of course, you haven't always been on board, so there may be gaps in our knowledge. You-and Mai-will fill in those gaps, and return the copies of plans you've stolen."

Fanning's face was ashen. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

This infuriated Ziad even more. He punched Fanning hard in the gut and the engineer crumpled to his knees, dry retching, and curled up on the floor. Ziad stood over him, resisting the urge to kick the fool in the face. "There's no point in pretending any longer, Bill. It's not only your life, but your wife and son's lives that are now at stake."

"Believe me, Ziad. I...I had no intention of breaching confidentiality. All I've done is to keep a plan so that I can help you access the cavern should something go wrong. Please understand. It's for your own benefit!"

Ziad sucked air in deeply and closed his eyes as he ran his hand along the top of the sofa, calmed by the feel of the soft leather. The thumping pain receded. He had to be careful now. He must give Fanning a glimmer of hope. He opened his eyes and smiled. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere. But Bill, we don't require you to second-guess our ability to access the fortress. I am a qualified engineer, as you know. I want all the plans, codes, and duplicate keys you have. I know you'll keep the fortress secret, for your family's sake. We can find you anywhere on this earth that you try to hide. Understand?"

"Yes, yes..." Fanning said, slowly sitting up. He was trembling so badly his words came out in clipped phrases in a hoa.r.s.e, quivering voice. "I'll return everything... In return for... your promise to let us go. You'll need me..."

The arrogance of the British! Unknown to Fanning, Ziad had recruited two engineers from Egypt to maintain the facility. "You are in no position to bargain, Bill. But certainly, we value your services. I give you my word before Allah that we will let you and your family go once we have everything in our hands. Everything. You will take us now to collect them. Then I will arrange for a suite at the Arabian Castles Hotel. It has better facilities for children than the Burj Al Arab. And there will be no cruise."

"Thank you," Fanning groaned as Sadiq helped him to his feet.

Ziad smiled, and felt a warm satisfaction inside. Now, with Mai in their custody and Fanning giving them back what he'd stolen, he could dispose of the last remaining threat.

How would they stage it, he considered? How long would Mai last? And after he and his men took their pleasure with her again and again as Bill watched helplessly, he would enjoy watching their faces as he threw their son overboard. Oh yes, they would give him anything in return for a quick death.

36.

Outside Ziad's cabin, in the late afternoon shadows, Sheriti shivered as the misty breeze brushed against her skin like a ghost. She slipped away, making no sound on the timber deck. She hadn't heard all of it, but she'd heard enough. She hurried off the vessel and jogged along the marina seawall towards the restaurant at the end.

She smiled at a group of tourists and glanced at the cell phone vibrating in her hand. Her galloping heart quickened further at the Blocked showing on Caller ID. Khalid and Ziad both blocked their numbers, so she answered benignly: "May your day be beautiful, praise Allah."

"And yours. This is Aunt Miki. Have I called at a good time, my dear?"

Sheriti smiled. It was the call she was expecting. She walked out of earshot of the tourists and responded with the appropriate phrase. "Yes, Auntie M. I trust that you're well, ins hall ah."

There was a slight pause and Sheriti knew that her case officer would be checking her voice stress levels on a device at the other end, to ensure she was speaking freely. "Okay. We have a.n.a.lysed the photos on the memory card taken from the man at the Madinat," Miki began, her words concise and unemotional. "He had a Canadian pa.s.sport in the name of Lee Maclean. He's not known to our database."

Sheriti breathed out sharply, feeling a strong sense of relief. She'd been worried the man might have worked for Khalid or Ziad. That would have ruined their months of preparation, and possibly led to her being identified. All the unpleasantness she had experienced would have been wasted, and she tried not to let her mind imagine what would happen to her if they discovered her true allegiance. "Then... an innocent tourist, perhaps?"

"Possibly not," said Miki. "Most of the photos are of the Princess Aliya. Except for the close-ups of you and me."

"Oh." Sheriti's mind raced with a number of dangerous possibilities.

"These aren't the photos of a tourist. He's taken shots of the surveillance cameras. Close-ups of cleats jutting out from the hull-potential footholds or handholds. Shots of the areas of the boat out of view of the security cameras."

"You think he's maybe planning to sneak aboard? A thief, maybe?"

"Mmm. Or rapist. Or an agent. At the very least, he's a nuisance."

"American perhaps? CIA? But if so, why would he follow me?"

"That's the problem. We don't know. Jaron probably should have killed him at the Madinat."

"It is as well you didn't, if he's CIA. What would the CIA want with Khalid? He has no terrorist profile. The western media loves him. Unless..."

"Precisely. Unless they know of the Saddam cargo."

"I thought our source at the CIA told us they don't."

"I'll have to tell Meir about this. It increases the urgency. We don't want the Americans beating us to the canisters."

"What about Fanning? He's in danger. And he designed the fortress."

There was a long pause. Finally, Miki said: "Our orders are to do nothing until we can confirm Khalid has the canisters. And we know he doesn't have them yet. We cannot afford to risk Israel, Sheriti. Fanning is not our concern."

37.

It was dark when Mac woke to find Tally maintaining a vigil by his bed, dabbing a damp towel on his forehead.

"Here," she said, handing him a gla.s.s of water and some Advil.

What made her think he needed a nurse? "I'm fine," he said, taking the towel from his head and swinging his legs off the bed. He flinched as the axe split the inside of his head, pain spiking down behind his eyes and spreading across the roof of his mouth. He steadied himself a moment, then took the Advil from her palm. "Thanks." He tossed the caps down and went to the bathroom to get some codeine.

"You really should rest. You've probably got a concussion," she warned when he returned, handing him a room-service menu. "Here, tell me what you'd like."

"A slow back ma.s.sage would be kinda good right now."

Tally folded her arms and stood there until he chose dinner, then went to dial room service. He walked out onto the balcony and stared down at the Princess Aliya. Was Sophia on that boat somewhere? He had to get aboard and check it out. The vessel was lit up like a Christmas tree, which wouldn't make it any easier. But the mist coming onsh.o.r.e was promising, and tonight might be his only chance.

Tally joined him. "Looks like it's going to be a cool one tonight," she said, leaning on the rail.

"How's the hacking going?"

"I got Rosco to check Sheriti out. So far she appears to be what she claims, a personal trainer from Cairo. But maybe it's just a good cover. And I've downloaded Ziad's emails. They're all encrypted, so I'll work on them later."

"Great."

"Nothing useful from your bug. But I managed to get a copy of the plans for the Princess Aliya on the Bruhm and Verweck server. They're the German shipbuilders. The printouts are on the table."

"Good one. That'll help."

"It gets better. While you were out of it, I was able to log on to Rubi's account. There was one circular email to the Hunnafite Foundation. It refers to a plan by Khalid to finance the creation of a global DNA database of kids in Hunnafite-funded orphanages. The aim is to find potential relatives, according to the email."

"Why would they do that? I mean, it sounds like a good idea. But wouldn't it be expensive?"

"Yes. And if you think it through, it doesn't make sense. Who would bother do pay for a DNA test on the off-chance an orphan is theirs?"

"I guess. Are DNA tests expensive?" He was confused. He decided his brain wasn't in the best of condition for a.n.a.lysing this problem. Then he had another thought. "Actually, how is this relevant to us trying to steal Abu-Bakr's cash?"

"It's not. But I know you've been trying to find Sophia and her friend Danni. And you are trying to find a man they call The Frenchman."

"What?" How did she know that? Actually, he reflected, he might have mentioned The Frenchman to Tony Cabrera in Nice.

"Tony told me... What, you think that because I was a little harsh on you when we first met, I wouldn't care? We all know you have another agenda here, Mac. Just for the record, I'll help if I can."

What was this? Tally willing to help him search for the girls? Mac shook his head. It felt like his brain was a squash ball being pounded against the wall. "Sorry, I'm struggling here. Can you please just explain the relevance of the email?"

She gave a pert smile, like she was building up to a big surprise. She took his arm and escorted him inside, where she brought up the email on a screen. "Look at who's on the c.c. list. The Frenchman. The guy you told Tony was behind Sophia's abduction. I've tracked him down. His name is Emil Bladelescu. He lives in Paris. Runs a sleazy strip joint called the Rumy Bar. Seems like Khalid has dealings with him too, through Ziad."

Should he trust her? This information was nothing he didn't already know, although it was a direct source, which was a useful confirmation of Emil's confession. More important, though, was this revelation that Tally was willing to help. With the amazing capabilities at her fingertips, it seemed like he would be crazy now not to trust her.

So he told her everything as they ate dinner. About the pilot in Martinique and the rescue of the girls from Emil's warehouse in Paris. About Emil's confession that he had sold Sophia and Danni to Ziad. Telling her seemed like the right thing to do, seeing as she had been trying to help him. But it was also a risk. If she told Wisebaum, he would probably be kicked off the team. He could be sent back to Fort Bragg to face a court-martial. Certainly, Derek didn't want his Abu-Bakr operation compromised-he'd made that quite clear.

"So there it is. I won't insult you by asking you not to tell Derek. But I'm hoping you won't." He wondered if he'd succeeded in appealing to her sympathetic side.

"Is there anything else I should know that might impact on our operation?"

"Nope. I mean, how was I to know Khalid might have bought these girls? In any case, it's Prince Abu-Bakr that ASTA's after. Khalid's just a way of getting to Abu-Bakr. Anything I do with Khalid outside that is irrelevant."

She stood up and wandered over to the French windows that led onto the balcony. "Derek's been good to me, Mac."

That was when he realised it had been a mistake to tell her. He should have known. Now she'd have to tell Wisebaum. If she didn't, she'd be putting his interests above her loyalty to her boss. And truth be told, if the roles were reversed, he would never do that. Yet he knew he had to push her, because now he understood how valuable the ASTA technology could be. He'd never wanted to be in this position, where he'd have to plead with Tally. "Come on, Tal. I know we can succeed in both. We can get Abu-Bakr's money and find Sophia and Danni."

She frowned. "Mac, I admire what you're trying to do. But... this new information has put me in a really awkward position. I'm sorry."

It seemed like his appeal to her better nature wasn't working, so he tried provocation. "Okay. I get it. Now you have the perfect excuse to get me booted off the team. What you wanted all along, I guess."

She went back to her computers. "Don't push it... I need time to think about this, all right? Oh, G.o.d."