A Line in the Sand (36 page)

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Authors: Gerald Seymour

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just as officers of the Israeli Mossad waited in secrecy in the

American huts of an Egyptian airbase with the pilots who would fly them

ust as the officers and crew of a United States Navy fast

south, j

patrol boat waited off the Emirates port of Shaijah. All of them

ed for the arrival of the one individual who could give them the

wait

information required to launch or abort. He was led in. He was wan, ned, swaying on his feet with tiredness. His hands trembled

strai

as he

ange juice.

gulped or

e risk he had taken. They let his nerves steady.

They all knew th

He

237

was sat in a chair and he told them, in a stumbling monologue, all that

he knew about the restaurant, about the bus, about the invitation

list

to the celebration meal. When they had finished with him, teased

out

of him the precious information on which the plan depended, he was ken out by Penny Flowers to be told

ta

of the new life offered him.

inal assessment of his information,

After he was gone, after the f

the

cypher messages were sent and the mission was launched.

"What do you mean the "greater evils"?"

"Try the missile programme."

"Five years ago yes? how far along that line were the Iranians?"

"We were getting a mess of reports on the warheads but all

tory, on when they'd be ready with nuclear, chemical and

contradic

microbiological. We could handle that, live with it."

"Explain that, Mr. Littelbaum."

"We thought we had a little time, but not with missiles."

"They weren't contradictory on the missiles?"

"Very clear, very precise. Without missiles, warheads don't count.

They were up to speed with the missile programme, maybe two years

away."

"You cannot launch a warhead until you've a missile."

"Go to the top of the class, Mr. Markham. We needed to buy the time, to slow the programme. But the installations are underground,

bomb-proof, have air defence, with an army round them."

"Enter Juliet Seven."

"He gave us the way in. We couldn't reach the hardware, so the option we had was with their personnel."

The director was in the front of the bus, a double seat to himself.

Behind him sat the project managers, the scientists and the foreign engineers. He was relaxed and felt a sense of happy satisfaction.

238

Behind him he heard the gentle, joking banter of the men who had made possible the advancement of Projects 193, 1478 and 972, and the babble rsi, Russian, Chinese and the North Koreans' dialect.

of Fa

It was

a

occasion, the retirement party for his colleague who

worthy

controlled

d he had personally taken time to oversee the

Project 972, an

arrangements in the restaurant, down to the detail of the menu that erved and the music that would be played. He rocked

would be s

contentedly in his seat. He had believed, ever since his education in

mechanical engineering at Imperial College, London University, that a

happy team was a productive team.

The bus sped down the narrow road beyond the docks and left the city behind. He was lighting a cigarette, the flame close to his

nostrils,

when the driver stamped on the brake. He saw the man peering ahead.

Through the cigarette smoke and the windscreen, a red light waved

in

the night's darkness. The bus slowed as the driver pumped the brake.

He leaned forward, to make out a shadowed figure behind the light, and

ad-works emergency sign.

then a ro

He disliked lateness and glanced

at

h. He saw, thought he saw, a figure pass beside the bus

his watc

carrying something, but could not be certain. The barrier was pulled aside

the

and

bus powered on past the man holding the light. He eased

back into his seat. Above the cackle of accents and laughter, the or heard the single thud from the side of the bus behind him

direct

and

d instinctively towards the source of the noise. The last

twiste

thing

that registered clearly in his mind was the sight of the wall of fire coming like a torrent in spate through the bus. In the final moments of his life, the fire surged against his clothes, the skin of his

hands

and face, and beating in his ears were the screams of the scientists and foreign engineers. Trapped in the bus, with the flames and the screams, there was no possibility of escape.

sonnel burned to death. Christ."

"The per

ed the programme.~ "But the missile factories were the same

"We delay

the morning after."

239

"Not the same. Yes, bits of metal remained in underground workshops, but the team was gone. Take the team away and you screw the projects.

Men matter. It's simply not possible to fly in replacements and

carry

on as if nothing had happened."

"The missile programme was the greater evil?"

"In three years they would have had the capability of striking against any country in the Middle East, including Israel even the possibility of reaching southern Europe. We bought five years.

"What was the lesser evil?"

For three consecutive days the satellite photography showed the

skeletal shape of the burned-out bus. On the first day the movement of

rescue workers retrieving bodies could be clearly seen from the

enhanced pictures, with fire engines and ambulances. Radio Tehran carried reports of a tragic road accident in which twenty-four men involved in the petrochemical industry had died. The next day the photography showed a small group of forensic experts, identified by their white overalls, crawling through the gutted bus, and Radio

Tehran

made no mention of the accident. On the third day the pictures beamed from the satellite showed the bus being loaded on to a flat-top lorry, and Radio Tehran's bulletins had brief reports of local funerals.

By

that third day, the United States Navy fast patrol boat had returned to

normal duties, and the United States Air Force had flown five agents of

the Mossad to Israel and the life of Gavin Hughes had been painted out.

"Twenty-four men killed did I hear right, Mr. Littelbaum? Is that

're telling me?

what you

I can barely believe what you're saying."

heard a programme was delayed."

"What you

the greater evil?"

"That was

apons of Mass Destruction threatened our interests."

"Their We

ell was the lesser evil?"

"And what the h

240

olvement of Juliet Seven Gavin Hughes.

"The inv

The mission was done

skilfully, and they'd a poor forensic infrastructure. It was days, on two weeks, before they could confirm the initial suspicion

going

of

by then Gavin Hughes had ceased to exist."

sabotage, and

amn near speechless, it was pure savagery."

"I'm d

ere looking after our backs, and we did it well."

"We w

re involved?"

"You we

egree, liaison yes, I was involved."

"To a small d

consider the human misery the widows, the children?"

"Did you

e considered the effect of the missile programme.

"W

I don't really

ps me get through the day."

find emotion hel

ard matter of state-sponsored

"What about the little, awkw

rrorism?"

te

ot applicable."

"N

f the Iranians kill one of their Kurds in Berlin, wherever, or a

"I

man

ywhere in Europe who's planning murder, mayhem, in Tehran, we

an

shout,

call ambassadors, impose trade sanctions. We call it

scream, re

state-sponsored terrorism."

"Correct."

after our

"If we roast twenty-four Iranians-' "We call it looking

cks."

ba

orgive me, but that is mind-bending hypocrisy."

"F

ou are driving too fast again, Mr. Markham."

"Y

nd if the Israelis go into Jordan to murder an activist?"

"A

ustifiable self-defence.

"That is j

You should slow down a bit, Mr.

I would suggest to you that the prime objective of an

Markham.

intelligence agent is to further by clandestine means the objectives 241

of

the tax-payers who put food in his gut and a roof over his head."

"I believe in morality."

"I don't get to mix with people who use that word often... That's a

better speed, thank you."

"I hope you sleep well at night."

"I sleep excellently, thank you. If we all talked about morality, Mr.

Markham, we'd none of us finish a day's work."

"You used that poor bloody sales engineer."

"What the lady, Miss Parker, said, your work took you to Ireland.

Unless you were completely useless at your job, I would have to assume that you "used" people, were competent at running agents, manipulating them, exploiting them. Then you let them go... They

did a

job of work for you... Did you go and see your line manager and bleat about your unhappiness at the ethics of running informers?"

"When does the marksman shoot, Mr. Littelbaum?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Does the marksman shoot as the predator approaches the tethered goat or when it's on the goat?"

s when he has the optimum chance of a clean kill.

"He shoot

It's nice

country out here. It's a little bit like west Iowa country."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling me."

"Do you feel the better for it?"

"I'm devastated.. . but yes, I'm the better for knowing it."

242

"Would your Juliet Seven be the better for knowing it? Will you tell him?"

"I don't know I feel like throwing up. He was betrayed, treated like shit."

"I think we're going to hit the rain, which is a shame... Listen, Mr.

Markham, we went to a hell of a lot of trouble to do your Juliet Seven r.

a favou

The Israelis could have machine-gunned the bus and left

their calling-card, bullets and grenades. We insisted on the fire and

gave the Mossad the hardware, which guaranteed slow, difficult

progress

for the Iranian investigators. We bought your man time for his

ance. He should have been safe, beyond their reach I

disappear

imagine,

u ever have the chance to look for it, it was his error that

if yo

led

them here. We did enough for him. Do you think there's time to stop for a pork pie and a beer?"

The beach seemed endless, stretching to the horizon where the cloud was

poised over the grey stones of the wall behind which was the

nd.

marshla

The wind and rain beat relentlessly on their backs.

Not until they turned for home did his principal start to talk.

Davies

stayed a pace behind him.

"Look at this place. It's as good as dead, it's condemned.

Everything

here is for nothing. The sea rules and eats at the place, like it's rotten and decayed. Seven hundred years ago this place was alive.

It

eat fleet for trade, fishing and boat-building.

had a gr

The Saxons, the Vikings and the Normans settled here, where we are now.

It had wealth. Their boats sailed after fish as far north as Iceland and they traded as far south as Spain and east to the Baltic. The sea

killed this place, that same sea. In January 1328, there was a storm and a million tons of sand and stone was washed across the river mouth.

243

has the

The wealth went and the land began to follow it. The sea

ultimate power. It eats at the cliffs and at the beach every minute of

every day. Right here, where we are, it's a yard a year. Up the

coast, not far, it's four hundred yards in the last five years. The fucking place, and everyone who's here, they're all doomed. Little people, ucking

f

pygmies, living their lives, thinking they can change

things. They've bulldozed sea walls, concreted the base of the

cliffs,

put in groynes and breakwaters, but it doesn't make a damn of

difference. The sea keeps on coming. A couple of miles down the

coast

was the tenth biggest town in England, five churches, built by people who thought that they'd last for ever. Now they're all gone into

the

sea. They were pygmies then and pygmies now. The sea cannot be

resisted. We're all dead here, doomed, we have no future. We build little houses, little gardens, make our little lives and for what?

For

nothing.

flicking

People paid masons to carve gravestones so that

the

lives of their fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters would be

remembered

but the stones are under the sea, like they'd never existed. We worry about the present but we're just too small. The future is the sea coming in, taking, snatching, in spite of our little efforts to

protect

ourselves. There is nothing we can do because there is no defence..

.

Will you tell me, when do you think the bastard will come?"

In the distance on the sea wall, wrapped in a dark anorak and

waterproof leggings, watching them, facing into the thrust of the

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