The Killing Ground

“Nice weapon-always liked them,” Dillon said. “If you drop one, it stops automatically.”

“I remember very well,” the professor said. “It’s just that it’s been a long time. What about you, Caspar?”

“My experience with any kind of firearms has been severely limited,” Rashid said.“So, if things go according to plan, the woman with Sara will be handcuffed, dragged below and locked in a cabin?”

“Better than a bullet, which is what she’d get from some people. They’ll find her whenever they come looking for Sara and the others.”

“A lot of places to look,” Hal Stone said.

“I think you’ll find the women at the house have already heard about yesterday’s visit.” Dillon shrugged. “Hussein Rashid is a special kind of man. Every sense in him sharpened like some jungle animal. He’ll work out what’s happened here quickly. That’s why we’ve got to move very fast indeed.”

There was silence. Billy went to the side table, got a bottle of Bush-mills whiskey, poured half a glass and brought it to Dillon.

“Oh, if only I didn’t hate alcohol, but to us, here’s looking at you.”

Dillon toasted them and emptied the glass, then got up. “Let’s look busy, Billy.”

“I’m with you.”

Caspar loaded the tray. “I’ll get rid of this.”

Hal Stone said, “Better bring the weapons back with you,” and as Dillon went over the side, he picked up the glasses and focused them on the house on the bluff.

THEY DIDN’T KNOW IT, but nobody at the house except Sara even wanted to go to South Port that morning. Sitting at a table on the terrace and reading an Arab newspaper, Hussein was enjoying a coffee after breakfast. His uncle had just been called away.

Sara, with Jasmine, stood on the upper terrace looking down on him, Hamid and Hassim behind them, smoking and talking.

Sara turned to them. “Do you know if he’s going to South Port this morning?”

“Well, he doesn’t look like it,” Hamid replied. “He hasn’t said a word.”

She tried to stay calm. “What a shame. I’d hoped to go and see them diving again.”

“I don’t think so.”

At that moment, relief came from an unexpected quarter. Jemal appeared on the upper terrace a few yards away from them, leaned over and shouted to Hussein, “We must leave at once. I’ve had a message from South Port. The loading of the Kandara has been disrupted.”

Hussein rose and started up the steps. “What happened?” he called.

“The train was coming down from Bacu with the last load two hours ago, when one of the freight cars was derailed on that bend by Stack Four.”

“How bad is it?”

“It could mean the Kandara’s departure being delayed for some days.”

“That would be unfortunate. Our friends in Iraq need those weapons for the big push in Basra next month.”

“We must go at once. See if anything can be done.”

“Of course.” Hussein turned to Sara and the young men. “You heard that. Bad trouble. We must get moving. Behave yourself, Sara.”

“Can we go out in the boat?”

“All right-the harbor only, Hamid.” He took his uncle’s arm and helped him up to the entrance to the living room and they vanished inside.

“So-the boat it is.” Hamid looked through the Zeiss glasses at the Sultan. “Yes, they’re on the deck, the Bedouin and the old professor and the two divers are getting ready to go down, from the looks of it.”

“We’ll go and take a look.” Now that the moment had come, Sara was intensely nervous, her heart beating. If anything, she felt a little sick, but she tried to pull herself together. “Come on, Jasmine, let’s get going.” She picked up a parasol one of the women had left on a bench and led the way down to the inflatable tied up at the small jetty on the beach below.

Hamid handed her in, then Jasmine. Hassim sat in the prow, his AK across his knees, and Hamid untied the line and stepped in and sat in the stern.

Sara opened the parasol, Jasmine smiled, and Hamid pressed the starter on the huge outboard motor.

ON THE SULTAN, Hal Stone said, “They’re coming. Sara’s the one with the parasol; her companion is the same one as yesterday. The boys are the same. How do we handle it?”

Dillon and Billy had discussed it already and they came up from the diving platform. Dillon pulled the zip of his diving jacket down and slipped one of the Walthers inside. Billy did the same.

“Caspar, you stand on the diving platform to take their line, Billy and I will jump into the sea on the other side when they’re closer, swim round underwater and deal with the boys. Hal, you just be ready for anything.”

Caspar said desperately, “God forgive me, but it’s as good as murder.”

“You want your daughter back, don’t you?” Dillon said harshly. “So pull yourself together. Come on, Billy.” He dodged round the mast to the other side of the deckhouse.

The sound of the inflatable’s engine was somehow very loud and then it died. Sara’s voice sounded, “Good morning, Professor, here we are again.”

Dillon and Billy dropped over the side, went four or five feet under the water and swam past the prow and toward the diving platform on its line, the inflatable beside it. Dillon gestured to the stern and went up and Billy made for the prow. Hassim was leaning over.“It’s so clear, I can see the ship,” and Billy’s hand clutching the silenced Walther emerged. The first round caught the boy in the throat, the second between the eyes, hurling him back against Jasmine, who pushed at him with a shrill cry, sending him over into the water.

Hamid was quick, but not quick enough, for his AK was propped against the seat beside him. Realizing how hopeless it was, he flung himself over the stern as Dillon appeared, tearing at Dillon as he did so, leaving Dillon with no option but to pull the trigger several times.

Jasmine cried out again and Hal Stone leaned down at the side of Caspar and pulled her up.

“Oh, my God.” There was absolute horror in Sara’s voice.

Caspar pulled the fold away, revealing his face. “Sara-it’s me.”

Dillon and Billy hauled themselves out of the water. Hamid floated up, rolled over, but there was no sign of Hassim.

“Daddy, it is you.”

“We’ve come for you, my darling.” He got down beside her in the inflatable. “In a short while, we’ll be flying back to London in our own plane. Your mother’s waiting for you.”

There was a vacant look on her face as Hal Stone appeared and piled into the boat. “Jasmine,” she asked. “Where is she?”

“Quite safe in a cabin below, love,” Billy said.

Dillon nodded. “When Hussein comes searching for you, they’ll find Jasmine.”

He pressed the starter, the engine coughed into life and they raced toward the jetty.

“But not Hamid or Hassim,” she said dully. “Was that necessary?”

“I’m afraid it was, my dear.” Hal Stone took out a bottle, poured a couple of pills into his palm and offered them. “These will help to calm you, Sara.”

She turned to her father. “Daddy?”

“Take them, darling.” So she did and he put an arm around her and she nestled against him, and a few moments later they swerved into the jetty and disembarked.

AS THEY DROVE OFF in the station wagon, Billy at the wheel, Dillon called Lacey. “On our way. Fifteen minutes, no more.”

“Couldn’t be better. Said isn’t back yet and I got his permission to do a test flight. Drive straight in the hangar. Parry will stand outside to show you which one. We’ll load inside. Shall I notify Ferguson?”

“No, I’m superstitious. I’ll do that when we’re clear and on our way.”

It was so strange that the end of something that had been so difficult and painful seemed so simple. Minutes later, they were loading the flight bags and boarding the Gulfstream. Parry closed the hatch and went and sat beside Lacey.