A Devil Is Waiting - Jack Higgins [64]
Which she did.
Hamid took Wali Hussein off to the kitchen, while the rest of them sat around the table and considered the situation.
Slay said, “Can I ask a question of you, Major Miller? As there was always the chance that things would go sour when you met Ali Selim face-to-face, what did you intend to do if that happened?”
“Shoot him dead,” Miller said. “That’s why Dillon and Holley came along, to back me up.”
Dillon said, “His importance stretches way beyond Europe. He’s been responsible for more deaths than you could ever imagine, from Yemen to New York. If I could get close enough, I’d shoot him dead without a thought.”
“Are you saying you’d still like to go through with it?” Hamza said. “Even though you know Ali Selim has got his own troops ready for whoever comes along?”
Slay said, “On the other hand, what if we changed that some?”
“How could we do that?” Ferguson asked.
“Let’s be a little inventive,” Slay told him. “Say, Wali Hussein phones Ali Selim up to tell him that the whole mission’s been aborted. That he’s been told that the Prime Minister’s got cold feet, decided he can’t risk losing Miller, and has called them all home. You could order the Gulfstream to take off as if returning to London, put down at Islamabad perhaps.”
“What would be the point?”
“A considerable one, if Hussein could be persuaded to tell Ali Selim he’d be dropping by in the Raptor to report in person, especially if he had us on board.”
“Good God, what a wonderful idea!” Ferguson exclaimed.
“It does have merit, though there would be no guarantee you could get close enough to guarantee killing Ali Selim.” That was Hamza, who was frowning but suddenly smiled. “Of course, and so obvious. A mullah’s blessing, the most precious gift a young woman contemplating marriage can have. If Wali Hussein begs for such a blessing, as if for a relative and his intended bride, such people would be privileged to meet Ali Selim face-to-face.”
It was Holley who said, “Before we go any further, we’d need a woman—”
“We’ve got one, Daniel, don’t be silly,” Sara told him. “I could pass without comment in my black burka. One of you would have to go native and dress up. You could get away with a cotton headcloth across the face, only the eyes showing.”
“Two would be better,” Dillon said. “Men, I mean. I’m small enough to pass as Wali Hussein wrapped up. You could play the lover boy, Daniel.”
There was silence for a while, everyone considering it. Sara took Holley’s hand under the table and squeezed it hard, and he knew that what she said was as much for him as anyone else.
“I’m a soldier and I take a soldier’s risks. Ali Selim is as bad as it gets, so I say let’s take him out.”
Greg Slay said, “Well, you get full marks from me, Sara.”
Ferguson turned to Hamza. “How do you feel about this, Colonel?”
“I’m in complete agreement with Captain Gideon. We’re doing the world a favor by disposing of this wretched man. Let’s have Wali Hussein in, and I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse. You speak to your pilots, and I’ll apply the right pressure to make sure the Gulfstream flies out within the next hour. I would also suggest trying to arrange the flight to Amira for as soon as possible. I see no reason why it should not be this afternoon.”
“Then by all means get Wali Hussein back, and let us do what has to be done.”
Hamid produced Hussein, still in his handcuffs. He looked a sorry sight and was obviously terrified. Hamza said, “Do you remember what I said before? I could send you to the military prison, not even book you in, just allow it to swallow you up until you die from abuse.”
Hussein moaned, shaking his head. “In the name of Allah, don’t do this.”
“On the other hand, we could put you on a flight to Florida with your American passport in your hand, and a thousand dollars to tide you over, as long as you never come back.”
Which stopped Wali Hussein dead in his tracks. He stared at Hamza. “What would you expect of me in return? Just tell me. I don’t care what it is—I’ll do it.”
“I thought you might say that,