The Protector (25 page)

Tasneen knew he was right.

Mallory could see her relax slightly, although her expression remained pensive.

She pulled her phone from a pocket, selected a number, pressed the call button and pushed it under her hair to her ear.

‘Go to the window,’ Mallory said quietly. ‘Better reception.’

She got off the bed and went to the window.‘Abdul,’ she began and then after he answered rattled off in Arabic. The conversation went back and forth for a while before it ended abruptly. Tasneen looked up at Mallory and then smiled slightly. ‘I think he’s happy with the story. I emphasised the job. I told him he could start tomorrow. Is that OK?’

‘I think that’s what we agreed just before the restaurant blew up.Which reminds me.You must be starved.’

‘I’m not really—’ Tasneen began.

‘I’ve been through this with you before. The last time you said you weren’t hungry you embarrassed me by getting the server to pile so much food onto your plate that I had to do the same.’

She grinned and her face lit up.

‘I know somewhere I can scrounge a meal,’ Mallory said, going to the door. ‘I’ll check on a few things, see if the checkpoint is going to remain closed. Be back in a while.’

When Mallory left the room Tasneen lowered her head as her thoughts remained on her predicament. She did not regret coming to see Mallory, although she could have done without this situation. If it all turned out OK then securing the job for Abdul would have been worth it.

She felt that her feelings of attraction towards Mallory had increased. He had acted well during the bombing and had protected her. He was so easy to be with and he amused her. But there was something else which she was not sure ought to continue. She had taken to daydreaming again, fantasising about being in different places in the world, but now she was not always alone. Bernie was often there and what surprised her was her willingness to become involved with him, something she had never contemplated with anyone else.

The dangers were obvious but at the same time she felt safe with Bernie. He would not pressure her. It could remain just a fantasy. He had implied that he’d be in Iraq for a while, although she understood that he would have to go home occasionally. But Abdul could never know there was anything between them, even though it was only a game. In the Islamic faith only the man could marry outside his religion - a family’s religion was dictated by the male, not the female.

Life was a never-ending series of complications. Tasneen sighed and went back to the window to look out over the city. It was a long time since she’d had such a view of Baghdad. Her heart began to ache for its people and she wondered when they would ever see peace again.

Mallory was back within an hour, carrying a trayful of several plates covered in foil. He’d appropriated the food from Des who, it had to be said, was a generous man. Unsurprisingly, Des had a contact in KBR’s kitchen upstairs. As Mallory was leaving the office Des had made a joke about wanting to see the video. Mallory ignored it but was concerned that Des even suspected that Tasneen was with him. It might be worth having a word with him just in case he added it to his repertoire.

They began the meal in silence but after Tasneen asked Mallory what countries he had been to they embarked on a lengthy discussion that included politics, food, fashion and music as well as geography. Before long they had forgotten the brutal conflict outside the room except when a distant explosion or rattle of gunfire interrupted them. But they were determined to keep their thoughts elsewhere.

It was the looming prospect of bedtime that eventually stilled the conversation. Mallory took the initiative by tossing a pillow on the floor, lying down on the carpet and announcing that the spot would suit him perfectly. Tasneen removed her shoes and stretched out on top of the bed. They were out of sight of each other but continued talking until Tasneen quite matter-of-factly said that he could join her if he wanted to. He insisted he was fine. When she said he could stay on the floor if he wanted but said again that she did not mind him being on the bed he changed his mind lest the invitation should not be repeated. He placed his pillow on the bed and lay beside her but left a respectable gap between them.

Mallory had no illusions that the invitation was anything more than a friendly gesture but her close proximity set his imagination going and he fought to control it. They talked for a while longer and then Tasneen rolled onto her side. Mallory glanced over to see that she was facing him. He decided to remain on his back. This was not the time or the place to become intimate with her. Taking advantage of her predicament in such a way would be wholly unscrupulous. If she became frightened she would be trapped and Mallory could not bear the thought of her being in the room with him and not wanting to be. This was far more than he had expected and it was satisfying enough. They eventually drifted off to sleep, although he remained aware of her presence throughout the night. At one point she turned over and brought her knees up to her chest and Mallory looked at her, feasting his gaze on the heart-like shape of her bottom and wondering what it would be like to caress it with his hands and, better still, feel it pressed tightly against him. He eventually rolled away to ease the feelings of desire and it was not long before dawn reached for the balcony windows and Mallory sat up and went to look at the city. It was Baghdad’s most beautiful time of day. The minaret of the Firdous Mosque came to life, its speakers crackling before a voice called for morning prayers. Mallory dialled a number on his cellphone. When the call was answered Mallory asked about the state of the lockdown, closed the phone and went back to the bed to look at Tasneen. She did not stir but as he moved a strand of hair from her face she rolled onto her back with a sigh and opened her eyes. She sat up, startled as she focused on the unfamiliar surroundings but relaxed on seeing Mallory, remembering where she was.

‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘Sleep well?’

‘Thank you,’ she said as she slid off the bed and stood up.

Mallory watched her find her shoes and pull them on.

‘They just opened the checkpoint . . . I shouldn’t come down with you,’ he said as she pulled on her jacket.

‘I can find my way out.’

‘Take the fire escape down to the mezzanine floor. It’s written on the door in the stairwell.’

‘I’ll find it,’Tasneen said as she picked up her handbag and checked that she had everything.

Mallory followed her to the door, unlocked it and paused before opening it. ‘Maybe one day we can look back and be amused by all this . . . I enjoyed you being here.’

When she looked up at him he could not read her expression. ‘I think I will say that I enjoyed it too,’ she said. He felt relieved and was suddenly bursting to hold her and kiss her lips. If there had been an invitation in her eyes he would have. He wanted to ask when he might see her again but it seemed pointless. He would let fate play the next hand. ‘Wait,’ he said as he moved around her to open the door enough to look out onto the landing. ‘Mind how you go. Drive carefully,’ he said.

Tasneen moved past him in the confined space, her breasts touching his chest, her smell filling his head. Seconds later she was gone and only then did Mallory remember that he’d intended to check her car for bombs. He doubted whether anyone would target her but, as he always told himself, that was not the point. He would have to let it slide this time, though.

Mallory took a look in all directions for prying eyes before closing the door. But he was too far from the edge of the landing to see down onto the third-floor walkway where an Iraqi security guard was leaning on the rails, smoking a cigarette. The man could see the top of Mallory’s door from his position and since its opening and closing was the only movement at that early hour it caught his attention. Then he saw the moving head of a woman who was walking along the landing and a moment later she passed through the lobby and out of the hotel.

9

The Team Deploys

Mallory climbed out of the shower and towelled himself dry as he went through the list of things he had to do that day. First he had to contact the office in London and tell them to give his relief the go-ahead to move to Baghdad. Next he needed to inform Des that he would be available to accompany his client to Fallujah - although Mallory was still unsure if that was the best way to proceed. But he had extracted all the pleasure he could from daydreaming about Tasneen and the million dollars and it was time to turn some at least of the fantasy into reality.

There was a knock on the door and he checked his watch. It was ten past seven. Too early for the drivers. The knock came again.

‘Who is it?’ he called out, standing to one side of the door out of habit. No one to his knowledge had been shot through a door but it was the sort of thing that went through his mind on such occasions.

‘It’s Stanza.’

‘One second.’ Mallory went back into his room and pulled on a pair of trousers and a T-shirt, wondering if something was up. Stanza had never called on him this early before. When he opened the door Stanza was standing there, dressed as if ready to go out.

‘What time are the men coming in?’ Stanza asked.

‘I told them to be in at nine.’

‘Nine,’ Stanza repeated, making a calculation.

‘I still don’t know about Farris.’

‘When will you know?’

‘If he turns up then I’ll know.’

‘This is not gonna work out like this, is it?’ Stanza said testily.

Mallory sighed inwardly, wondering when Stanza was going to get the message regarding local staff.

‘We need to get together to discuss a plan of operation, ’ Stanza said. ‘We have things to do, places to go, people to see and I need reliable drivers and a guide. I’m sorry, Mallory, but that’s your job and it’s not going very well.’

Mallory decided that Stanza had a flea up his backside about something. Having started the day in such a good mood he would not allow the little knob to wind him up. ‘Give it until nine. By then we’ll know about the drivers and we should also have a fixer.’

‘A fixer? Who?’

‘I told you.’

‘Oh. The one-armed guy.’ Stanza had left a message about finding a fixer with Blant from the
Post
but he had not received a reply yet. His confidence in Mallory’s guy had eroded from the moment he’d agreed to meet him. ‘I have some feelers out for a fixer myself. I’ll also look for a driver. We’ll talk at nine, then,’ Stanza said, turning on his heel.

Mallory closed his door and took a moment to calm the anger that was threatening to ruin his morning.The twat had managed to wind him up with his final comment about looking for a driver and fixer himself. Stanza was beginning to show his true colours: he was either a real bastard or he was trying to bully Mallory in particular. If Stanza kept on like this Mallory would simply tell him to shove his job. But that would mean letting Tasneen’s brother down, which would not help his cause with her.

He took out his mobile phone and scrolled through the numbers. Stanza was right to a certain extent, though. The team had slipped a notch and that was Mallory’s responsibility. In truth it wasn’t of huge importance to him but he had standards to maintain.

‘Kareem. It’s Mallory. Are you coming in this morning at nine? Nine o’clock . . . Good.What about Farris? OK. See you here at nine. Be a little earlier if you can. Bye.’

Farris was apparently on his way in but seeing was believing. Mallory’s next call was to Tasneen who was very cheery when she answered the phone. She asked him to hold on while she moved to somewhere more private in her apartment. She had made it home without a hitch to find Abdul asleep on the couch and when he woke up he’d been relieved to see her. He had been visibly excited about starting work that morning and she intended to drop him off at the hotel on her way to work.When Mallory asked if she planned to drop him off and pick him up on a regular basis she said no but since this was his first day she would make an exception. In future Abdul would use the taxi service which was reliable enough. Mallory made a mental note to instruct Kareem to drive Abdul into work and back home when practical. Mallory eventually said goodbye to Tasneen after they agreed to discuss Abdul’s first day at the end of it.

At a quarter to nine Mallory stepped out of his room and looked down into the lobby.The wind blew unchecked through the hotel but apart from the missing windows everything looked in place. If there was one thing the Iraqis could do efficiently it was clean up immediately after a bomb.

Kareem and Farris stepped out of the emergency stairwell - the lifts were still out of order - and walked towards him, both lighting up cigarettes even though they were out of breath. It was at times like this that the KBR staff suffered through living at the top of the building, particularly their grossly overweight members - of whom there were many. But because of their selfish antics with the lifts no one had any sympathy for them. Des, of course, had been quick to react by posting a sign in the emergency stairwell on his floor that was aimed at KBR staff. It announced: ‘Only 16 more floors to go, you fat bastards.’

Farris looked sheepish as he greeted Mallory but said nothing about his future intentions. Mallory chose not to ask. If Farris wanted to leave the country it would be a problem for Mallory’s relief. Some media organisations were easier-going and local staff could organise stand-ins to take their place but Mallory did not allow that. Mallory had trained his drivers in security-driving techniques that included actions to take in the event of various different situations, from a traffic accident or flat tyre to an actual enemy contact. He did not want to endanger the client or the team by having a stranger take over, someone who did not know the drills and procedures.

Mallory looked back down into the lobby and saw a young man who resembled Tasneen’s brother standing near the fountain, one of his arms wrapped in a colourful cloth. ‘We have a new guy starting today,’ Mallory said to the drivers.They looked at each other quizzically. The suspicions that Kareem had confided to Farris on the subject had obviously been correct. ‘If you need someone I can find you good man,’ Kareem said.

Mallory knew that was coming. It irritated him how these people never seemed to grasp the boundaries of their rank, often making suggestions concerning matters beyond their authority. ‘He will be a translator and fixer and will be working directly with Stanza . . . He’s a Sunni,’ Mallory added, caring less if that last bit of information annoyed them further.

Farris and Kareem glanced at each other again to ensure that they were in agreement. ‘No problem,’ Kareem said, shrugging, a sentiment clearly opposite to what he truly felt.

‘Be back in a minute,’ Mallory said, leaving them.

Abdul recognised Mallory as soon as he saw him step onto the lobby floor and put on a smile for him. Mallory reached out with his left hand, Abdul took it and they shook. The vividly coloured silk scarf that wrapped the bandaged stump was no doubt a touch from Tasneen.

‘How are you?’ Mallory asked.

‘I am fine - thank you for asking,’ Abdul said, each word carefully enunciated.

‘Your sister drop you off?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you had breakfast?’

‘I had breakfast with home -
at
home, thank you.’ Abdul smiled apologetically at the mistake.

‘How is the wound? Still painful?’

‘Very little now. I do not need the pills any more.’

‘That’s good.’ Mallory was pleased with his first impression of the young man who was polite, dignified and unobtrusive, qualities that Mallory hoped would sustain. ‘We live on the fifth floor. Come and meet the rest of the team.’

‘Of course,’ Abdul said, extending his left hand in a courteous gesture to indicate that Mallory should lead on.

Mallory headed for the stairs. ‘The lifts aren’t working at the moment but you need to know the emergency stairs anyway.’

Kareem and Farris were leaning on the rail, smoking cigarettes and chatting, as Mallory and Abdul exited the emergency stairwell. Mallory made the introductions and the men exchanged greetings in Arabic. Kareem and Farris glanced at Abdul’s stump several times without mentioning it. The meeting between them seemed cordial enough and, not wanting to waste any more time, Mallory knocked on Stanza’s door. When it opened Stanza looked out, saw his assembled team and stepped back to let them in.

‘This is Abdul,’ Mallory said as the young man passed the journalist. Stanza forced a smile, extended his right hand and before he realised his mistake Abdul took hold of the journalist’s offered fingers with his left hand and shook them.

Mallory closed the door after Kareem and Farris and followed them into the room.

‘Find a seat,’ Stanza said.The drivers sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the two chairs for Mallory and Stanza. Abdul stood politely to one side until Stanza insisted that he should take a chair.

Stanza sat on the edge of his desk.‘I guess we should first of all welcome - Abdul, is it?’

Abdul nodded. ‘Abdul, yes,’ he said.

‘I take it you guys all know each other?’ Stanza asked, looking between the drivers.

‘They just met,’ Mallory said.

‘OK.Welcome to the team . . . um . . . let’s see how we all get on and . . . well, let’s get straight to it . . . We have a story the paper wants to pursue. But before I get into it I need to stress one important thing, which is that everything about this story has to be kept between ourselves. No other media group out there -’ he pointed to his door ‘- has the knowledge we have about the story and they must not find out. In fact, no one outside of this room must know. Understood? Friends, family, whoever. It has to stay with us only. Is that clear?’ He acted like a headmaster, looking hard at each individual until he nodded.

Stanza looked at Mallory last. Mallory was miffed at being relegated to the level of the others and decided that he’d been right in his earlier impression of the journalist: Stanza was a twat.

Appearing satisfied, Stanza adjusted his position before delivering the next part of his brief. ‘The story,’ he announced, ‘is Jeffrey Lamont, the American who was kidnapped from a house in Karada last month. A lady and two other people were murdered at the same time.’

Abdul stiffened, then checked to see if any of the others were looking at him. Suddenly he wondered if this was some kind of bizarre set-up. But all eyes were on Stanza who was looking down at the floor while composing his next sentence.

Kareem and Farris did not know who Stanza was referring to but, typically, nodded as if they did.

Mallory didn’t know who Stanza was talking about either. There were dozens of kidnap victims. The mention of the murdered girl rang a bell but triggered nothing specific in his memory.

‘I’m not gonna say too much right now,’ Stanza went on, ‘other than that we’re a Wisconsin newspaper and Lamont is a Wisconsin boy.’

That was obviously the appeal of the story but Mallory could not see the reason for secrecy. Stanza was clearly taking this too seriously. From Mallory’s experience, Kareem and Farris would have understood about five per cent of what Stanza had said: they made little effort to concentrate, even though they nodded constantly. Abdul, on the other hand, appeared locked onto Stanza’s every word.

‘I’m gonna need your help on a few things,’ Stanza went on, addressing the nodding drivers, clearly unaware of their level of competence. ‘Research. First thing. The woman Lamont was seeing, the one who was murdered. Very important. I want to know who she was. Where are her family, parents, whatever? We need to talk to someone who knew her. Next. The house where the kidnapping took place. Where is it? This is where you guys earn your dollars. Any ideas how to find answers to these questions?’

Kareem and Farris were looking at each other as if they had been asked to find the Holy Grail.

‘Mallory,’ Stanza said.

Mallory looked at him. ‘Sorry. What?’

‘Any ideas?’

Mallory shrugged. Story research was not his part of the ship. ‘Finding the house?’ he said, blowing through pursed lips. ‘Was the address on the wires?’ he pondered, throwing out the first thought that came into his head.

‘Research back at the office has come up blank. Someone in this town has to know. What about the police?’

Mallory looked at Abdul who was wearing a bemused expression. ‘Abdul?’

Abdul snapped out of his trance and looked at him enquiringly.

‘Any ideas?’ Mallory asked. ‘You’re an ex cop . . . Do you know anyone who could tell us where the house is?’

Abdul stared at Mallory for an uncomfortably long time but his eyes were out of focus again and were seeing something else. He was back in the house in its dark, quiet street, seeing again the tattered entrance, the creaking stairs, the room at the top, the people inside and then hearing a gunshot that made him blink.

Mallory wondered if there was something wrong with the man.Tasneen had mentioned something about psychological stress but she’d never said how bad. ‘You OK, Abdul?’

Abdul refocused and saw everyone looking at him. ‘I know where it is,’ he said matter-of-factly.

‘The house where Lamont was kidnapped from?’ Mallory asked, unsure if Abdul was on the same page as the rest of them.

‘Yes,’ Abdul said. His mental reaction to thoughts of the house had varied since that night but his present feelings tended towards morbid curiosity. He had passed by the end of the street a couple of times since that night and had strained to see the building in the few seconds it had been in view. There had to be an explanation of why he was going to offer to take these people to visit it. The thought had come from outside his soul and therefore was not his. Perhaps it came from Allah, he mused.

‘The house where Jeffrey Lamont the American was kidnapped?’ Stanza repeated.

‘Yes,’ Abdul said. ‘Where Lamont was kidnapped.’

‘And where the woman was murdered?’ Stanza added, still not entirely convinced that the young man knew what he was talking about. It all seemed too easy, too convenient.