No Remorse (34 page)

“Then you’d better pray that we don’t.” She thrust her knee into his groin.

“Ugh, where’s in-flight service when you need it?”

She frowned. “You think I won’t kill you? I have no fear of being caught.”

“Why would you want to kill me? I don’t even know you.”

A flight attendant pulled back the curtain. He glanced back at her, but she misinterpreted his pleading look, responding with a knowing smile and quickly retreating.

Damn.

“My partner was Anton Nastayev.” She was watching his reaction.

“The famous ballet dancer?” He couldn’t help himself. He felt the stiletto pushed harder and became serious. “Okay, I’m sorry. But I still don’t understand. Was?”

“You were one of the people Anton was hired to kill in England.” There was a righteous anger in her voice.

“Oh.” Now he understood. He tried to remain calm. How had she ended up on this same fucking flight? “I’m sorry for you. But your partner was trying to kill a woman on the day of her husband’s funeral. She had done nothing to deserve that.”

“Nothing? You call kidnapping Sheik Khalid’s son nothing? The woman was the child’s nanny. They trusted her.”

“What? Who told you that load of horse crap?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you, and the blonde woman. You helped. You collected the ransom. Two thousand kilograms of gold. You are just as guilty. And I want you to know, I will kill you for what you did to Anton. A time, a place of my choosing. You will live the rest of your short life in fear of my bullet.”

With a final hostile glare at him she eased off the pressure of the stiletto and made a move to leave.

Mac had a wave of indignation wash over him. “For professionals, you don’t research your targets very well, do you? You are so far off the facts, it would be laughable if it wasn’t so sick.”

“I have no desire to listen to your lies.”

“No? I think you don’t want to hear the truth. It would be inconvenient, wouldn’t it? It might undermine your warped sense of honor. Killing women and children. You enjoy that, don’t you?”

Anastia pursed her lips. “I do not accept contracts to kill women or children. Anton was by himself because he did not have such constraints.”

“Then perhaps, as you aren’t going to kill me now, you might have the decency to allow me to explain.”

A pause. Then, “I will listen. Your lies will not save you.”

He told her from the beginning, leaving out only mention of ASTA and the nuclear materials Khalid was supposed to have. From time to time Anastia shook her head, saying nothing, as she studied his face closely.

“And now Khalid has kidnapped Tally and Rosco, and we’re on our way to try and get them and the girls back.”

“We?”

“Me and the two men standing right behind you.”

She didn’t turn to check, but instead leaned close to his face. “I’ll consider what you have said. But if I find you have lied, there will be no refuge for you. Anywhere on the planet.”

She climbed out from under the blanket and returned to Economy.

Khalid left Ziad supervising a rehearsal of the new security team to defend against attacks by pirates. With the additional weaponry and men taken on board in Karachi, he felt more secure now than ever and could relax with his women and wait for news of the bomb. Climbing the stairs, he smiled. Sheriti had promised that tonight she would give him an answer to his proposal of marriage. Last night they had introduced Jamila to the tantric yoga sessions. She had caressed Sheriti’s breasts with youthful eagerness as Sheriti straddled him and demonstrated the techniques, then after twenty minutes Jamila took Sheriti’s place on his lap.

Entering his quarters he heard a retching from the bathroom. Sheriti was in bed. “She has the sickness, Khalid.”

“But surely the ocean is not rough yet.”

“She is pregnant.”

“Ah! About time. We must celebrate, then.” He undressed and slipped between the sheets and began to fondle Sheriti.

Jamila returned a few minutes later looking pale. “I’m sorry, husband. I am not well. I may not be able to fully pleasure you tonight.” She put her hand on her belly and smiled. “I have some wonderful news.”

He beckoned her over. “You are with child. I know, my love. That is indeed good news. I will have Rubi arrange a celebratory dinner tomorrow evening.”

Jamila groaned and excused herself as she ran to the bathroom.

As the sun rose behind the mountains of Andaran, the dhow
Rabi
cruised along, the engine humming an accompaniment to the gentle rhythms of taarab songs, mostly in Swahili. Mac and the other three passengers lay on blankets below the gunwale, out of sight. There had been little to do once the ship was underway except eat, catch fish, tell stories and sing. Their captain, Sammy, a jovial Comorian fisherman—and, Mac suspected, also a smuggler, given the cigarettes and alcohol aboard—had a huge double chin and a nose so wide his mouth seemed like a button hole. Yet his voice was as smooth as Ronan Keating’s. Scotty, who could impersonate Tom Jones better than anyone, and had won numerous karaoke competitions, harmonized and competed with improvised lyrics as he and Sammy crooned through the overnight journey to Andaran, to the delight of the crew.

Passing Khalid’s resort about half a mile out from the western cliffs of Crater Bay, Mac peered out with binoculars and was pleased to note that the
Princess Aliya
had not yet arrived. That meant there was likely to be few, if any, guards inside the fortress. With the proximity key and plans Mai had given him, they would hopefully be able to get inside without too much difficulty.

Checking the crate of equipment, Mac allowed himself a smile. Jog had excelled himself. Hidden in the two electric underwater Sea Scooter vehicles were Heckler and Koch SOCOM pistols with noise suppressors, laser sights and spare magazines. The pistols could even fire underwater, but keeping them dry was a better option, so they’d sealed them inside plastic bags.

Scotty had agreed with him that they would have a better chance of penetrating the resort undetected if they entered from the sea through the underground fortress. They could then gain access to the resort through the connecting tunnel and try to rescue the girls before Khalid and his men arrived. The plan was that Sammy would take the girls to Grand Comore with Jog, while Mac and Scotty remained behind to try and rescue Tally and Rosco. But Mac hoped that without the girls, Derek Wisebaum would be better able to negotiate their release.

Mac felt good to be finally freed of the constraints of working for ASTA. Nothing personal, but they had very different objectives, and it was clear that Wisebaum’s agenda conflicted too much with his own. He glanced over at Anastia, who sat with her head back soaking up the sun as she talked with Jog. He wondered whether she could be trusted.

She had approached them on Grand Comore, as they were negotiating with Sammy to hire the
Rabi.
She explained that she had been in contact with Yuri, the broker who had offered them the contract. Yuri had admitted that after Anton had initially declined the job, Ziad had offered more money and then claimed that Mai and the others had kidnapped Khalid’s son. After checking out Khalid’s sons’ names on the internet and carefully studying the photographs of the Asian-looking boy with Mai at Dubai airport, she had realized that Mac’s story made more sense than Ziad’s. She told them that it was now clear to her that Ziad was responsible for Anton’s death, for lying about the nature of the contract. She seemed genuine in her desire to help them. But regardless of whether she could be trusted, they’d agreed it would be better to keep her close.

The dhow continued sailing past the Yubani Resort heading east towards Sommala Beach, where they would prepare for the incursion.

“Hurry up, Saleh, the banquet has already started.” Ziad leaned against the wall as the ship rolled, watching as the woman was treated by Dr. Gammal.

“Nearly finished. I’ve stopped the bleeding. Her jaw is badly bruised, but she appears to have no broken bones. Her tongue’s swollen from lack of water and she’s unlikely to be able to speak for a day or so. But she will live. I’d like to have her in sickbay to be able to monitor her. She should have some clothes or a blanket to keep her temperature up. Perhaps if you’d listened to my advice she’d be—”

“Just give her water and painkillers. No clothes. I don’t want her hanging herself. I’ll send Mohammed down with a pen and paper. She can write can’t she?” He crouched down and leaned close to the woman’s face. “Tally? Tally. You will write down the password for your computer. Then we can return you to your friends. Do you understand?”

Spittle dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She raised her head to look at him for a moment then dropped her gaze to the floor. Was that an acknowledgment of his demand?

“You hear me, Tally? We’re going to release you. All we need is the password.”

The woman made a gurgling in her throat that could have meant anything.

With an angry grunt, Ziad smacked the wall and walked out. She was no longer any use to him. She seemed to genuinely know nothing of their plans, despite what he’d done to her and having been forced to watch her colleague die slowly last night. She’d been insistent that Mai Fanning had given them nothing and had denied they were Israelis, claiming that they were spying on Khalid to identify any terrorist connections he may have. And she’d persisted in the line that she did not have the password to unlock the computers, that it would have to be sent from headquarters.

She had given them nothing. But at least Rosco had talked. After hours of denying it, he had finally admitted to being a Mossad agent, tracking them to find out whether Khalid had obtained the nuclear canisters. Just as they had suspected. He would give the woman one last chance to write the password. Whether she did or didn’t, they would dump her over the side as they had done with the other Israeli. In this condition, she no longer held any appeal for him.

As he entered the dining room, Rubi grabbed his arm, her eyes ablaze with excitement. “Come, brother, you will want to see this!”

He followed her to Khalid’s quarters, where Khalid, Captain Jergah and Captain Khan were watching an immaculate female newsreader in a black jacket, white blouse and pearl necklace speaking with a well-practiced, barely suppressed passion.

Khalid clapped his hands. “We’ve done it! The demonstration was a success! It is unfortunate about the wind direction. But we will plan better next time. And they’ve assumed it was Al Qaeda, just as we hoped. Rubi, get Ibrahim and Masoud on the satellite phone so I can tell them the good news.” He turned to Ziad. “How is the interrogation of the woman going?”

“She gives us nothing but her cover story, Highness, despite what the other one said. She’s not in a condition to take much more. I suggest we throw her overboard after the women are well asleep.”

“Ah, I have a better idea, brother. She would be a suitable candidate for our next conversion ritual. We have not had a Jew for a while. Clean her up. I want her in good condition when our Hunnafite friends come for the wedding.”

“Sheriti has agreed?”

“Last night.”

They were interrupted by Rubi entering with a satellite phone. “It’s Ahmed in Dubai, Highness.”

Khalid held the phone to his ear. “I can hardly hear you, Ahmed! I’ll put you on speaker!” He pressed a button on the satphone.

“I’m at NASDAQ Dubai, Highness! It’s gone crazy!” Ahmed’s frantic voice came out of the speaker.

“What’s happening, brother?” Khalid yelled into the handset.

“There has been a bombing at the main oil processing plant in Saudi, Highness. Gold is up fifty dollars an ounce! Oil futures have increased twenty percent. You stand to make a profit of about forty million! It could go higher when other markets open. Should I reinvest or settle?”

“Reinvest, Ahmed! They will go even higher in the next few weeks.”

He passed the satphone back to Rubi and it rang again. Khalid laughed. “We appear to be popular this morning.”

Rubi listened for a moment, then handed the phone to Khalid. “It’s the American. Wisebaum.”

They sat on the rail and fell back into the water. Clearing his mouthpiece, Mac breathed a couple of times to check that the air was flowing, then swam down and released the clamp that kept his Sea Scooter hidden below the surface against the boat’s hull. He grabbed the handles and pressed the throttle, and the Sea Scooter pulled him forward. He tailed Scotty towards the cliffs. Above them, the
Rabi
continued sailing on past Crater Bay, the crew fishing to distract anyone at the Yubani Resort who might be watching.