A Devil Is Waiting - Jack Higgins [44]
“What are you trying to say?” Frankel asked.
“We live in a cosmopolitan society, Henry, and London is a splendid example. We’ve left a vehicle in the underground garage, where people in overalls, obviously from many cultures, work as mechanics and sweepers. It was the same coming through the House of Commons to get here—lots of cleaning women in the corridors, for example. The champagne I ordered? The waiter was obviously Muslim. People were talking and didn’t notice that I ordered in Arabic, which pleased him, by the way. Did you notice, Daniel?”
Holley shook his head. “No. I didn’t notice.”
“The place is a sieve, Henry, but so is the whole country, just like Belfast was. People can’t help hearing conversations, good people who don’t want to be involved with terrorism, but when you’ve got a family, you’ll respond to pressure for obvious reasons.”
“Everything you say is true,” Henry Frankel said. “We can only travel hopefully. You are team leader, Giles,” he said to Roper. “Everybody loves a hero, and the George Cross certainly makes you that. We are keeping quiet about your exploits at Abusan, Sara. There are good reasons why, so no offense.”
“None taken,” she said.
“Blake Johnson tells me the President asked for you, Dillon, to be included in the luncheon, and you, Daniel. I believe he knows both of you.”
“True enough,” Dillon acknowledged.
“So the four of you return tomorrow morning. Harry Miller and Charles Ferguson have been ordered to stay at the Prime Minister’s beck and call all day.” Frankel chuckled. “I’ve never seen Ferguson so fussed. He said to tell you, Giles, to make sure there’s no more nonsense with Daniel and Sara, whatever that means. I’d love to know, but I haven’t got time to listen. Ciao, everyone, I’ll see you in the morning,” and he was gone.
Roper smiled at Sara. “Well, there you are. You’ve been warned to avoid bad company at all times.”
“Thanks very much,” Holley told him. “Can we go to lunch now?”
Roper laughed and led the way out.
EIGHT
With only failure to report, Henri Legrande and Kelly had kept quiet about the two attempts to cause mischief with Holley and Sara. It left Owen Rashid, seated at his laptop by the terrace in his apartment, with little to say when Abu came on the line.
“I’ve heard nothing from you. What’s happening with Legrande and Kelly?”
“I understand they’re familiarizing themselves with the background of Ferguson’s people.”
“Then I trust they were at the riot in Hyde Park yesterday morning. They were all there.”
“What do you want from me?” Owen asked him.
“I thought I’d made that clear. Ferguson and his people have not only caused constant trouble for Ali Selim, they have murdered some of our most important people over the last few years. Death for death, Owen, that’s what they deserve and it’s a result I intend to have.”
“And this includes the woman?”
“I’m surprised you need to ask. Her service record speaks for itself, and not only in Afghanistan. Owen, these people call us terrorists and speak of being at war with us. Well, we are at war with them, and to the knife. So what about some action from the Frenchman? He was supposed to be serious business, but I’ve seen little evidence of it. A bullet in the back when your target walks home in the rain is serious business; so is a bomb under someone’s car. What I’m getting here is nothing.”
“He’s only been on the case for a couple of days,” Owen protested.
“I’m not interested in excuses. If he lets me down, my retribution will be not only swift but final. I want results and I want them now. Fire from heaven, Owen. That would be appropriate while the President is in town, don’t you think?”
Owen sat there thinking about it, thoroughly angry at the position he was in, but there was no way out, so he phoned Kelly.
“Where are you?”
“The shop.”
“And Legrande is with you?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“Not for me, for you. I’ve had Abu on my back, and he isn’t pleased at the lack of action