Free The Death Trade by Jack Higgins Page A

end.”
    â€œScrew you, Saif. So what is it this time?”
    â€œThere’s a lady in London giving us a problem.”
    â€œBy us, you mean al-Qaeda?”
    â€œOf course. She’s staying at the Ritz.”
    â€œAnd you’d like her damaged? Does this mean permanently?”
    â€œFatima, we are at war with the world. She is a soldier on the other side, which makes her fair game because she
is
our enemy. Her name is Captain Sara Gideon.”
    â€œYou know what? Something tells me you fancy her.”
    â€œI admire her, certainly.” He took a deep breath. “She’s a British Army officer, an Afghanistan veteran, one of the few to be decorated. She now works for an intelligence outfit run by a General Ferguson. Her partner is a Sean Dillon, once an IRA enforcer, and make no mistake, they’re good. They’ve just seen off permanently two of my best hit men. She and Dillon will be at the Ritz tomorrow.”
    Fatima laughed out loud. “And you expect poor little me to take that lot on?”
    â€œFatima, my love, not me, but the man I work for, who shall remain nameless, insists on some sort of revenge and suggests that Paris is just the place for it. He’s told me to try and damage the woman, as he would like to see her suffer.”
    â€œNow I understand you,” Fatima told him. “You’re like the students who joined the Red Brigade years ago, went round blowing things up and assassinating people, just for the thrill of it.” She laughed out loud again. “Your chickens have come home to roost, Saif, because if you don’t do your duty by al-Qaeda, they’ll hang you out to dry and there’s nowhere you’ll be able to hide. They’re great throat-cutters, an Arab tradition.”
    She was absolutely right, of course, and he said, “So what’s the answer?”
    â€œThere’s nowhere for me to hide, either.”
    â€œParticularly as Khan has your address, the bastard insisted.”
    â€œSo I’ll just have to get on with it. Tell me everything about their reason for being here in Paris, the whole story. At least that will mean I’ll be prepared for anything that comes along.”

PARIS

5
    T he Gulfstream lifted off at Farley Field at 2:30 that afternoon bound for Charles de Gaulle Airport. Sara and Dillon held conference on board together, Roper on Skype on the large screen with Ferguson.
    â€œAny thoughts about last night’s events?” Ferguson asked.
    â€œI’ve thought about it,” Roper said, “but can’t see that it has any relevance to our Paris trip. One of the hit men made the al-Qaeda connection clear. This was all about revenge, and they were waiting outside Holland Park to exact it for the many times in the past when we’ve done al-Qaeda great harm. It was only last year we foiled the plot to blow up the President on his visit to Parliament and managed to dispose of Mullah Ali Selim, one of their biggest operators in London.”
    â€œI agree.”
    â€œAs far as they’re concerned, we’re targets for life because of past misdeeds,” Dillon said. “But in Paris, it’s a great day for Iran, their scientist receiving the Legion of Honor. The last thing al-Qaeda would want to do is rock
that
particular boat.”
    Sara said, “What do you
really
expect, General? We’ve already accepted that Husseini will never leave his mother and daughter in the lurch, it isn’t in his nature. So what can I offer him, or to be practical, what could Britain offer him?”
    â€œBesides the joys of London, Oxford, and Cambridge? Freedom to continue his research. The government’s ready and willing to provide him with an experimental nuclear facility right here.”
    â€œBut how could this happy circumstance be achieved?”
    â€œIt would take time and careful planning, but I believe the SAS could handle it.”
    â€œGiving Britain