The Teeth of the Tiger - Tom Clancy [145]
The numbers came up on the LED register, and were saved and time-stamped in their laptop computers-there were two of them, and at least one more at Thames House. On each of Sali's phones was a pin register that noted the destination of every call he made. A similar device did the same for all incoming calls, while three tape machines recorded every word. This one was an overseas call, to a mobile phone.
"He's calling his friend Mohammed," Peter observed. "I wonder what they'll be talking about."
"At least ten minutes of his adventure this weekend, I'll wager."
"Yes, he does like to talk," Peter agreed.
"She's too skinny, but she is an accomplished harlot, my friend. There is something to be said for unbelieving women," Sali assured his colleague. She and Rosalie really liked him. He could always tell.
"I am glad to hear that, Uda," Mohammed said patiently from Paris. "Now, to business."
"As you wish, my friend."
"The American operation went well."
"Yes, I saw. How many in total?"
"Eighty-three dead and a hundred forty-three wounded. It could have been more, but one of the teams made an error. More importantly, the news reports were everywhere. All they had on TV today was coverage of our holy martyrs and their attacks."
"That is truly wonderful. A great blow for Allah."
"Oh, yes. Now, I need some money transferred into my account."
"How much?"
"A hundred thousand British pounds should do for now."
"I can have that done by ten in the morning." In fact, he could have done it an hour or two faster, but he planned on sleeping in the following morning. Mandy had tired him out. Now he was lying in bed, drinking French wine and smoking a cigarette, watching the TV without getting too involved. He wanted to catch Sky News at the top of the hour. "Is that all?"
"Yes, for now."
"It shall be done," he told Mohammed.
"Excellent. Good night, Uda."
"Wait, I have a question-"
"Not now. We must be cautious," Mohammed warned. Using a mobile phone had its dangers. He heard a sigh in reply.
"As you wish. Good night." And both killed their respective phones.
"The pub out in Somerset was rather nice-the Blue Boar, it was," said Mandy. "The food was decent. Uda had turkey and two pints on Friday night. Last night we dined at a restaurant across from the hotel, The Orchard. He had Chateaubriand and I had the Dover Sole. We went out to shop briefly on Saturday afternoon. He really didn't want to go out much, mostly just wanted to stay in bed." The cute detective was taping it all, plus making notes, as was another policeman. They both were being as clinical as she was.
"Did he talk about anything? The news on TV or in the papers?"
"He watched the news on TV. But he didn't speak a word. I said that it was appalling, all that killing, but all he did was grunt. He can be the most heartless chap, though he's always nice to me. We've still not had a cross word," she told them, caressing both with her blue eyes.
It was hard for the cops to regard her with professionalism. She had the looks of a fashion model, though at five foot one she was too short for it. There was also a sweetness about her that must have stood her in good stead. But inside was a heart of pure ice. It was sad, but not really their concern.
"Did he make any telephone calls?"
She shook her head. "None at all. He didn't bring his mobile phone this weekend. He told me that he was all mine and I wouldn't have to share him with anyone else this weekend. That was a first. Other than that, it was the usual." She