There is nervous tittering among the Marina loyalists while Mary and Harry exchange amused glances.
Marina is offended and not at all apologetic. “Well, Mack, your contempt for headquarters management is well known, but you must understand that broadcasting in all its forms is moving forward at a terrifyingly fast pace and new language is required to keep up with this.”
“Oh well, Marina, I don’t much care what tortured language is used in your plush boardrooms, provided those who use it genuinely understand what they are saying and what they need to achieve.”
“There is clearly a gulf here between us,” she says with an icy smile, “so let’s move on to other matters: your assessment of the situation in Central Arabia. Are the current troubles there a passing issue or long term?”
“Oh, I think they’ll be around for some time. First of all, there is the fierce power struggle going on in the government between those who want to strengthen ties with the West and others who want the country to be a conservative Muslim one. The recent assassination of the Khaled Mohamed, the Development Minister, is part of that struggle. Then there is another matter, the importance of which is not yet entirely clear – the terrorist group Soldiers of Allah. This seems to be lurking in the wings planning major attacks on western interests. But Jackson Dunbar is well across that angle.”
“Yes, I was going to raise the matter of Jackson,” says Marina. “Is there anything you should be telling us about him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Matters that we should know about.”
Mack is getting tetchy. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s a well-informed, talented, enthusiastic and brave correspondent. He saved my life. What more is there to say?”
The deputy head of news, Robert Horsfeld, who is sitting quietly across the table from Mack, chips in. “What Marina is alluding to, I’m sure, are a couple of matters that have been the subject of rumours recently.”
“What rumours?”
“Um, there are two issues that have come to our attention, but let’s first deal with his, um, gambling.”
Mack is astonished. “What gambling?” I’ve heard nothing. He’s often a bit short of cash, but I believe that’s due to some property deal in which he was ripped off. That could happen to any of us.”
“Of course, Mack, but even so, there does seem to be some substance to the rumours. We have, er, reason to believe that he has an online gambling account that he accesses from his work computer. For obvious reasons we don’t approve of that.”
Marina interrupts. “Mack, if, as you say, you don’t know anything about that, then I think you should look into it as soon as you get back to Armibar. You know, just to be on the safe side – and discreetly, of course. We don’t want any interface problems with the National Union of Journalists.”
“Yes, of course I’ll investigate, Marina, but I’m confident the rumour-mongers are going to be disappointed.”
“I hope so, Mack.” She turns back to her deputy. “Now tell us about the second rumour.”
“Um, yes,” agrees Robert with some further hesitation. “Um, as you, er, have told us, Jackson is very well informed – unusually so, to be honest.”
“Yes, he is,” confirms Mack. “He’s a very bright lad with good Arabic and an excellent understanding of the region way beyond his years.”
“But not a team player, I believe,” states Robert.
“No, not a particularly good team player, I admit, but I put that down to ambition and enthusiasm, or over-enthusiasm sometimes. I did have some early problems with him, but those were happily resolved. And to be truthful, I’d prefer to have someone who occasionally needs to be brought to heel rather than some dull character who just sits on his arse waiting for stories to land on the desk.”
“Quite right,” interjects Marina, “but please continue, Robert.”
“I accept that Jackson is ambitious and enthusiastic – that’s to be applauded – but I do have some reservations about how he seems to be so well informed after just a few months on the patch. Do you know where I’m going with this?”
“No, Robert, I don’t know. Tell me without resorting to riddles! Get to the fucking point!”
Marina frowns at Mack’s angry swearing and interjects. “Calm down, Mack, just let Robert explain.”
“Yes, um, Jackson has an impressive number of scoops and I wonder what, um, price has had to be paid for these?”
“Price?” asks Mack. “What do you mean by ‘price’? Are you suggesting that he gets them through bribery?”
“That’s, er, possible, of course, but I’m, er, thinking of something else.”
Mack angrily turns to Marina. “Will you please order your stuttering, incoherent deputy to explain in single syllable words what he is on about,” he demands.
Marina decides to take over. “Yes, we should explain there are concerns that Jackson could have two masters. You know, he could be a kind of, er, double agent. So you can see why Robert is having some justified difficulty with such a sensitive matter.”
Mack erupts in fury and begins shouting. “So that’s what this lunch is all about, eh? It’s all about rumours some prick has put into circulation about Jackson. Some arsehole who’s out to destroy Jackson’s career.”
“Calm down, Mack,” pleads Marina, “as head of the news department I cannot ignore such rumours. They must be looked into.”
Mack knows this is true, although he remains angry about the manner in which the rumours were raised. He says that if that is all they have to discuss with him, he would like to get back to Heathrow to catch his shuttle flight to Glasgow.
“Umm, there is a third thing I’ve just remembered, Mack,” announces Robert. That girl you’ve got working in the bureau… Sonia.”
“Samira,” corrects Mack, “what about her?”
“Is she right for the job, do you think?”
“In what way?”
“You know, efficiency-wise, trustworthy-wise – and personality-wise?”
“For God’s sake, you’re talking in riddles again, Robert?”
“Um, what I’m getting at is she okay with checking the expenses properly and is she – shall I say – a little unnecessarily aggressive? Does she get a little above herself?”
Mack again explodes. “Samira is brilliant. She does her job with great care and dedication, and if she’s occasionally a little bossy, I would remind you that she is, after all, the bureau manager. You wouldn’t be raising her ‘bossiness’ if she were a man, would you Robert!”
Mack turns to Marina. “I’d like to say that this has been a pleasurable experience, but that would be a grotesque distortion of the truth.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” she responds, “but sometimes there are tricky situations that must be addressed. I will get Louise to escort you back to main reception. Have a good flight back to Glasgow and we look forward to hearing from you again from Armibar. And give my best wishes to your wife, Janie.”
“It’s Joan,” he says crossly.
“Yes, Joan. I remember now. She writes very good history books, I seem to remember.”
Mack picks up his stick and goes to Mary and Harry. “Well, it was nice to see you two, anyway,” he says before leaving the room with Louise.
******
At the British Embassy in Armibar, Thomas Fulham has asked for a private chat with his boss, Bartholomew “Bart” Watson, whose cover title at the British Embassy is Anglo-Arab Cultural Liaison. It is proving to be a difficult meeting.
“Are you really serious about this?” Bart asks Thomas.
“Yes sir,” replies Thomas, “I really would like to be transferred back to London.”
“Good God, man! Why would you want to do that?”
“It’s a personal matter.”
“What sort of personal matter?”
“Just personal, sir!”
Bart is getting angry. “That’s just not good enough, Thomas. You’re an officer of He
r Majesty’s security services and this doesn’t mean you can move in and out of postings whenever you feel like it. We’re potentially facing a serious situation in this region and we desperately need well-informed people with excellent Arabic.”
“I’m really sorry, sir, if you feel that I’m letting you down.”
“Well, you are bloody letting me down,” Bart shouts. “You are in Armibar because I personally recommended you as someone who’d be able to hack it, even in the toughest of situations. Now look at you! You come up with some weak and unspecified ‘personal reasons’. That’s pathetic!”
Thomas is crushed and does not reply. Bart studies him for a while before resuming his questioning. “Are you having trouble on the home front?”
“No, Flip – Felicity – and I are okay. We have our occasional ups and downs, like most married couples, but we’re fine.”
“What does she think of your wish to go back to HQ?”
“I haven’t mentioned it to her,” Thomas admits. “I thought maybe that I would be able to tell her that I was being sent back to London because I was needed there to work on some sort of important commercial development project. I mean, she doesn’t know what my real job is. She really does believe that I’m the commercial attaché.”
“She must have her suspicions that you’re not all you seem.”
“I don’t think so, sir. I keep a good secret and it’s best that she’s not troubled by my work.”
“You have a point, but marriages can be put under stress if a wife discovers such a secret. They begin to wonder if there are other secrets to be uncovered.”
Thomas nods agreement. A servant comes in with coffees and water and while these are being distributed, it gives Bart pause to reflect on what he has just heard. The servant bows and leaves and the conversation resumes.
“Look, there’s no reasonable possibility that I can allow you to leave this post at this time. We need you here to deal with this Bin Hassan fellow and his Soldiers of Allah. Their involvement in that demo recently was very nasty. They seem to be lying low for the moment, but I suspect they’re planning something big. And there’s also the matter of your mate, Jackson. You know what our strategy is for him, and if you were to go back to London, we would lose that vital link.”
Thomas goes to interrupt, but Bart presses on. “Let’s do a deal. You stay here and get on with your most important mission and I promise you that once you – we – have dealt with Bin Hassan and neutralised his Soldiers of Allah you can go back to London with a useful promotion. I think that’s reasonable, is it not?”
Thomas knows that this is the best his boss can offer and nods his agreement. He then goes on to raise consequential issues: “There are just two things I would like to mention, sir. Jackson Dunbar and I were never close friends, but even so, I feel bad that we are using his weakness for gambling to screw him around quite so mercilessly. Once I’ve completed my mission, can you give me an assurance that we let him go to resume his normal life, whatever that is?
“Yes, we can do that, Thomas. I suspect that his usefulness will have expired by then anyway.”
“Thank you.”
“And what was the second thing?” Bart enquires.
“Um, I know we and our American friends have to play hardball with the terrorists and the Islamist-leaning faction in the regime, but that mess-up the other day with the assassination of Khaled Mohamed had some dreadful consequences.”
“Agreed. It was not nice, but these things happen.”
“I know, sir, but I also saw some of the film that wasn’t transmitted. It was shocking what happened to those people – particularly the kids. What if those kids had been ours walking along that street?”
“Well, luckily they weren’t, eh,” Bart says without showing any real sympathy.
Thomas feels tears welling up in his eyes. There is a pause before Bart speaks again. “Are your ‘personal reasons’ the impact that matter had on you? Are you finding this side of your job emotionally difficult?”
Thomas nods agreement, and wipes away more tears.
“Look, Thomas, we have to meet nastiness with nastiness in our game, you know that, but I do understand your situation. I’ve been there, too. It’s very hard, but someone must do it. I suggest you have a chat with Dr Blackstone in the embassy clinic. He’s very understanding and will help restore your equilibrium. And if it makes you feel any better, I can tell you privately that the freelance lads who messed up the other day have been told they won’t be paid for the job and have been shipped back home.
CHAPTER 21
Jackson is having a night in and in need of some female company. He rings the Zing Zing Club. “Hi Leila. It’s Jackson here. Is Zareena there?”
“Sorry, Mr Jackson, she’s not available,” replies Leila without any warmth.
“That’s the third time in the past week. What’s going on?”
“She’s just not available. I’ve got other nice girls you could see. There’s Maggie. You’d like Maggie. She’s very pretty and has just joined me from Wales.”
“Wales? What’s she doing out here, then?”
“Family problems back home, I think. But you’d like her. You really would.”
Jackson is exasperated. “Sorry, Leila, Maggie would be too risky. Once she discovered that I was on television and moderately well known, she would flog the story to some crappy tabloid newspaper back home.”
Leila is becoming equally frustrated. “I’m sorry Mr Jackson. It’s either Maggie or a couple of Russian girls who don’t speak English or Arabic and only do bondage.”
“Shit! Well, when will Zareena be available?”
“I really don’t know. When she tells me, I suppose. She’s part time because of her studies, and anyway, my girls have a right to choose who they want to see.”
“Are you telling me that she’s ‘not available’ in the sense that she doesn’t want to see me?”
Leila pauses before replying. “Look Mr Jackson, I think you have to accept that you may not see Zareena again. You really should meet Maggie. You’d get on well with her, and as she’s new on my books, I can offer a special introductory rate.”
“No, no, no! It’s Zareena or no-one.” declares Jackson as he angrily ends the call.
******
Next morning, Jackson phones Samira to say he will be in a little late because he needs to meet a contact. In truth, he goes to Armibar University and waits around the main entrance scanning the students as they turn up for their lectures. He sees Zareena arrive on a bus with a group of male and female students. He waves, hoping to catch her eye, but she appears not to see him. In desperation, he runs over to her. “Zareena, we need to talk,” he tells her, as he takes her arm.
She angrily shakes him off. Get away from me,” she shouts in Arabic. “I’m not Zareena. Who are you?”
Before Jackson can answer, she turns to her fellow students. “Does anyone know this man?” They all shake their head. She turns back to Jackson. “I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t go away now I’ll call Security.”
Jackson realises that he is out of order. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, “I mistook you for an old friend.”
Zareena and her group hurry on their way, muttering among themselves about the incident. The university grounds clear as the students enter the lecture rooms.
Jackson sits on a bench seat and reflects on his behaviour. He rings Samira and says nothing came out of the meeting with his contact and that he will be in as soon as he can find a taxi. She tells him that there is nothing important from the morning editorial meeting with London and not to rush.
Jackson downloads his latest emails onto his phone and while he is checking them, he discovers that Zareena has returned. She is furious. “What are you trying to do to me, Jacko? Ruin my reputation at the university?”
Jackson is full of remorse. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to talk to you about why you won’t see me.”
Zareena looks around t
o ensure they aren’t being watched. “Well, we’re talking now. We’ve been friends as well as having a business arrangement, and it’s because we’ve been friends that I don’t want to see you any more. You’re never going to stop gambling, are you!”
“But I will. I will. I just need that big win to set myself up again financially, then I’ll quit.”
Zareena is exasperated. “Listen to yourself, Jackson! You are, as you English like to say ‘living in Cloud Cuckoo Land’. Gambling addicts are all the same.”
“I’m not an addict,” he stresses, “I can give up any time I like. I just need that big win. It’s only a matter of time, then I’ll stop.”
She shakes her head. “And what about your drinking?”
“That’s just because of the stresses I’m under – the explosion at the mosque, rescuing Mack, and my money worries. Once I set myself up financially again, I won’t need to drink. I know I can be a better man.”
Zareena studies Jackson despairingly and again shakes her head. “Well, until you do become a better man, I’m not interested in seeing you. Now, I must go or I’ll miss my lecture. Good bye, my friend.” She walks back towards the university complex and Jackson wearily hails a passing taxi.
******
Jackson is shaken by Zareena’s character assessment and her ending of their relationship, but such is his state of mind that he comes to the conclusion that the best solution to his problem is to accelerate his ambition to score the Big Win with his gambling. All he needs is a suitable stake. His shares have been cashed in and his flat in London would take too long to sell. Then he remembers Granny Dunbar’s jewellery.
Two hours later, Jackson is in a shabby pawn shop in a deprived part of the city. He is wearing a floppy sun hat and large dark glasses to minimise the chances of him being recognised. He had lied to Samira that he is chasing another lead on Soldiers of Allah. In fact, he caught a taxi back to his apartment where he went through his wardrobes to find the small carved wooden box containing the jewellery inherited from his grandmother.
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