Midnight Runner - Sean Dillon 10

by Jack Higgins

  "Just tell me what her target is."

  "The bridge at Bacu in the Empty Quarter. It spans a huge gorge. Carries an old railway line and the main pipelines linking the interior oil fields to the coast. Keenan's agreed to blow it up for her."

  Ferguson was horrified. "She can't do that, it would cripple world oil supplies."

  "I think that's exactly the point, Charles."

  T he flight went smoothly. Quinn, dulled by the morphine, slept most of the way and safely arrived at Brancaster. Dillon and Billy went with him in the ambulance to Rosedene, where they found Henry Bellamy waiting in reception, having a cup of tea with a pleasant middle-aged woman in matron's uniform. Dillon had removed the moustache and tinted glasses.

  She kissed him on the cheek and said in an Ulster accent, "Your hair looks dreadful. I suppose you've been up to fun and games again."

  "Absolutely, Martha." The gurney came in, pushed by two paramedics. "Be good to this one, Professor," he said to Bellamy. "He's a Medal of Honor winner. He received a gunshot wound in the right shoulder approximately four hours ago."

  "What treatment has he gotten?" Dillon told him, and Bellamy nodded. "Prepare him for the theater, Sister, and you and your friend can check back later." He smiled. "And shampoo your hair, Dillon, just for me."

  T hey got a taxi, and he and Billy shared it to Stable Mews. Billy said, "She's got to be stopped, doesn't she?"

  "I'd say so."

  "And that means us?"

  "I'd say so again, Billy, if you're game."

  "You know I am, Dillon. But I won't tell Harry until the last minute. He'd only worry. When do you think it will be?"

  "Well, you heard her tell Keenan and his boys to be in Dublin tomorrow morning. The job itself is scheduled for three days from now."

  Billy nodded. "That's good. I'd like to get on with it."

  The taxi rolled up to Stable Mews and Dillon got out with his bag. "Oh, and Billy," he murmured, "I also wouldn't tell Harry you've just been using a shooter now. As you say, it gets him worried."

  "He'll know," Billy said gloomily, and left.

  Within minutes, Dillon was in the shower, shampooing his hair vigorously, the black dye trickling everywhere. Only when his blond hair was spotless again did he step out and towel vigorously.

  He pulled on black cords, a black Armani shirt, and his old flying jacket, combed his hair, and checked himself in the mirror.

  "Not bad, you old sod," he said softly, and his Codex rang.

  Ferguson said, "Where are you?"

  "Stable Mews. I'm on my way."

  "Make it Roper's. I'll see you there, I've had him check this Bacu place. And don't forget the recorder."

  Dillon put it in his pocket, left the cottage, went to the end of the street, and hailed a cab.

  D illon found Roper at his computers, but no sign of Ferguson as yet. Roper was working away at the keys and downloading a mass of material. He stopped and looked Dillon over.

  "You're looking well, but I suppose action and passion suit you. Ferguson filled me in about the gunplay. What about Quinn?"

  "Having surgery at the moment with Henry Bellamy at Rosedene. A bullet in the right shoulder delivered by a rather old-fashioned Webley thirty-eight."

  "Webley? God, they must be hard up for weaponry. What went wrong?"

  "Quinn simply froze when he was face-to-face with them. He could have shot the man involved but couldn't pull the trigger. Billy had to do it for him."

  "I imagine he's taken it badly."

  "Exactly. Especially as they weren't any real challenge. There were three of them and not very good. Billy got two, I took care of one. Amateurs, really. We left them damaged, not dead."

  "So, a successful trip."

  Dillon took out the recorder. "Thanks to you. We've got everything Keenan and Kate said to each other."

  "I look forward to hearing it. Ferguson told me the target, and I went into Rashid Investments' projects for Hazar and the Empty Quarter."

  The doorbell sounded, he pressed the electronic switch, and a moment later Ferguson and Hannah came in. "There you are," he said.

  "As ever was." Dillon smiled at Hannah and kissed her on the cheek. "God bless, Hannah."

  "You've been in the wars again, Sean."

  "For a good cause." He held up the recorder. "You want to hear it, General?"

  "I damn well do." Ferguson sat down and Dillon switched it on.

  Afterwards, Ferguson said, "It's even worse than I thought. How in the hell do we handle it?"

  "You could always ring her up," Dillon said cheerfully. "And say, 'Hello, Countess, I have a tape of a certain conversation between you and a notorious IRA bomber. We know what you intend.'"

  "Yes, but what does she intend?" Roper said. "To blow up a railway bridge--her own bridge--in disputed territory where no international law holds sway? And by the way, she also owns the railway, the rather ancient Indian rolling stock and the track, even the continuance of it from the Empty Quarter down through Oman to the coast. She even owns the oil pipes."

  Ferguson looked at Hannah. "What on earth kind of legal case would there be, Superintendent?"

  "Not much of one--even if there was a legal system in her part of the Empty Quarter."

  "By the way, General," Dillon said, "you couldn't even ring her up. From what she said, she's on her way to Hazar right now. Keenan and his boys arrive tomorrow. The bomb's set for the seventh. Hardly gives you time to send for the SAS or the Marines."

  "So what's the solution?"

  "Give me a moment." Dillon turned to Roper. "Show me what you've downloaded about the bridge itself and the area around it."

  "I can show you on the screen."

  He did so and Dillon had a look and stabbed a finger at a point about fifteen miles south of the Bacu. "Tank Five, what's that? There's a little sign beside it."

  "Remember, this is a steam train. They need a lot of water in that kind of heat, and they usually have to stop and fill up along the way. According to the map, it's a steep gradient," Roper added.

  "That's it," Dillon nodded. "A good spot to board the train."

  "Who's boarding the train?" Ferguson was bewildered.

  "I am, it's the only solution. Board the train at Tank Five and dispose of Keenan and his two friends."

  "On your own? You must be mad."

  "Actually, Billy's already volunteered his services. Of course, it means you've got to get your arse into gear, get hold of Lacey and Parry and tell them to get our plane ready for a quick departure to Hazar."

  "But, Dillon," Roper said, "how in the hell would you get to Tank Five? There are Rashid Bedu all over the place, goatherds, caravans, God knows what."

  "Billy and I will do a parachute drop, early morning when it's still half-dark. We've done it before."

  "Sean, are you sure?" Hannah said.

  "There's no time for anything else, no other way. Now do me a favor. As well as Lacey and Parry, speak to the Quartermaster at Farley Field, tell him what I'm up to and say I'll need the usual equipment."

  She turned to Ferguson. "Sir?"

  He took a deep breath. "Get on with it, Superintendent."

  "Excellent," Dillon said. "One more thing. Speak to Tony Villiers. His input could be crucial. I'm going home to pack." He grinned at Roper. "If I need you, I'll phone you."

  Ferguson said, "I'll drop you off," and they went out, Hannah following.

  Billy was sitting in his usual booth at the Dark Man when his phone rang. Dillon said, "Just listen." When he was finished, he added, "Are you in or out?"

  "I haven't got time to waste, Dillon. I've got to pack. I'll see you at Farley."

  Harry said, "Farley? Pack? What the hell's going on?"

  Billy told him.

  I n Hazar, Villiers was encamped with five Land Rovers and nineteen Scouts at the Oasis at El Hajiz, where Bobby Hawk had been killed. The line was only a mile away and he had every intention of crossing it and driving under cover of darkness to
Fuad. Achmed, who had proved an excellent Sergeant, had volunteered to go with him, the intention being to blow up the ammunition and arms store at Fuad, aided by a large block of Semtex and a timing pencil.

  He answered his Codex and found Ferguson on the other end. "Charles, what can I do for you?"

  "Just listen." Villiers did, while the General went through everything they'd learned.

  "What do you want from me?"

  "Any input you think useful. You don't seem surprised."

  "Nothing Kate Rashid does surprises me anymore. As for input, Dillon's idea of dropping in by parachute at Tank Five makes sense, since he and young Salter have done that kind of thing before. However, let's say it works, they dispose of Keenan and his men and foil the plot. It leaves them with a problem."

  "What's that?"

  "How to get out in one piece. That's hostile terrain, Bedu country, and mainly Rashid Bedu, Kate's people. I also imagine her helicopter will be in the area hoping to pick up Keenan and his men."

  "What would you suggest?"

  "I suppose I'll have to go for Dillon and Billy myself. Actually, it's a good thing you phoned me."

  "Why?"

  "I was going to drive to Fuad with my Sergeant under cover of darkness and blow up their ammunition and explosive store, but I can't do that with this other thing coming up. Kate Rashid would be alerted."

  "You're right."

  "I'll check on her movements. The other problem is the possibility that Dillon and young Salter might be recognized from the last time, and the news reach her. But she may have gone up-country. I'll let you know."

  "What if she hasn't?"

  "Well, we have the RAF compound at the airport now. Make sure your plane has RAF roundels, and have the crew wear uniform. I can pick Dillon and Salter up. In Arab gear and with a scarf across the face, they'd make acceptable Scouts for the time that's necessary. Are you coming?"

  "I hadn't thought of it."

  "I'd need bigger robes for you. I'll speak to you later, Charles."

  A t Farley Field, Dillon arrived as the Gulfstream was taxiing up to the apron, and noticed the RAF roundels at once. The engines were switched off, the door opened, the steps came down, and a Flight Sergeant emerged in RAF uniform, a man called Pound whom Dillon knew well.

  "Mr. Dillon, sir. I see we're bound for foreign parts again."

  "And a rather hot one." Lacey came down the steps, also wearing full uniform. "Very pretty," Dillon said. "It's the first time I've seen you with that Air Force Cross ribbon."

  "The General wants us to have an official smokescreen at Hazar. You and young Billy have got to be kept under wraps. Colonel Villiers is turning you into Scouts."

  "Mr. Dillon." A voice called, and Dillon turned and saw the Quartermaster standing in the entrance of the admin block. "I've got our stuff ready."

  Dillon followed him in and found various items laid out on a trestle table: two silenced AK47s, two Brownings with Carswell silencers, and titanium bullet-proof vests. Last, but not least, the parachutes.

  "Anything else, sir?" the Quartermaster asked.

  "No, I think we'll start the Third World War nicely with that little lot."

  The Quartermaster called, "Sergeant, give me a hand."

  Pound came in and they transferred everything into two RAF-issue holdalls and carried them to the plane. Dillon lit a cigarette and walked out to the steps. The Daimler drew up and Ferguson got out. His chauffeur followed, carrying a suit bag.

  "Put it in the plane," Ferguson told him.

  "What's all this?" Dillon asked.

  "I'm going with you. No arguments."

  "You'll look rather striking in Bedu robes."

  At that moment, Harry Salter's Jaguar drew up, Baxter at the wheel. Harry and Billy got out, Baxter opened the trunk and produced two bags.

  Harry said, "Damn you, Dillon, but if Billy's going, so am I."

  Dillon grinned at Ferguson. "No arguments?"

  "Oh, get on board and let's be moving."

  They went up the steps and settled in. Lacey and Parry were already in the cockpit, and Pound closed and locked the door. The engines turned over, the Gulfstream eased down the runway, turned, and took off. It climbed higher and leveled off at fifty thousand.

  "I've spoken to Tony." Ferguson told them what Villiers had said.

  "Nice to know he's on our case." Dillon lit a cigarette. "What about Quinn?"

  "Oh, he'll be fine. He isn't going to die on us or anything, but Bellamy says he'll be laid up for a while. Oh, and I tried the White House, but the President is on an official visit to Argentina, so I had to make do with Blake Johnson. He was horrified to hear about Quinn and about Kate Rashid's plans."

  "What did he say?"

  "That he would inform the President."

  "Was he suitably alarmed?"

  "What he actually said was: 'Tell Dillon and Billy to go in and kick ass.'"

  Dillon turned to Billy. "Now there's a compliment. So here we go again."

  "Saving the free world. Why does it always have to be us?"

  "We're too good at it, that's the problem," and Dillon called to Sergeant Pound, "I'll have a Bushmills now."

  HAZAR

  15

  W HEN THE RASHID PLANE LANDED AT THE AIRPORT OUT- side Hazar, the Scorpion was waiting at the end of the runway, Ben Carver beside it. Kate, Rupert, and the three Irishmen boarded it, and a couple of porters transferred the luggage. Within minutes, the Scorpion was taking off, and an hour later, as evening was falling, it landed at the airstrip at Fuad.

  There was the usual scattering of Bedu--women, children, and a number of the trainees--curious as to what was happening, and Colum McGee came forward to greet them. He grasped Keenan's hands.

  "It's good to see you, Barry."

  "And you, you old bastard."

  McGee nodded to Casey and Kelly. "Christ, but he must be hard up if you two are the best he can do."

  "Get stuffed," Casey said.

  McGee turned to Kate. "Supper's waiting."

  "You go ahead. I want a word with Ben."

  The Irishmen went off together and she turned to Carver. "Go back now. We're staying here. Be back here tomorrow evening. I want you to take our Irish friends to Al Mukalli. How long will it take?"

  "An hour and a quarter."

  "Good. You'll return here tomorrow evening, leave at one-thirty in the morning, drop them at the goods yard at Al Mukalli, and return here again. Later that morning, you'll take me, the Major, and three men to the Bacu Bridge, where we'll pick up Mr. Keenan and his friends. How long is that?"

  "About the same as the other trip. It's just in a different direction."

  "Good. We'll leave at six-thirty."

  "Will fuel be a problem?"

  "No, we've stacks of it here in jerry cans."

  Carver was sweating a lot and he was worried. He'd looked the other way regarding the activities at Fuad, but Keenan and his men made him uneasy.

  "Look, am I getting into something here I shouldn't?" he said awkwardly.

  "Yes," she said calmly. "You're into piloting my helicopter when I want you to, for which you are considerably rewarded. Of course, if this gives you a problem, I can have Carver Air Transport's license to operate in Hazar transferred to someone else."

  Rupert said gently, "I think she's got a point, my friend, don't you?"

  "No problem. I was only asking."

  She said, "On your way, then, Ben," turned away, and walked toward the tents, Dauncey at her side.

  Carver wiped sweat from his face with a handkerchief. "I'm getting too old for this," he said softly, climbing into the Scorpion, and took off.

  Kate Rashid and her cousin joined the others, who were already sitting cross-legged in the great tent, the evening meal spread before them. On this occasion there were just the six of them, and women brought goat stew to augment the fruit, dates, and unleavened bread.

  Casey and Kelly eyed the stew dubiously and Casey said, "What is i
t?"

  "It's food," Keenan said. "Just get on with it."

  "But where are the knives and forks?"

  "You just use your hands," Colum McGee told them, and dipped in using a piece of the bread.

  Kate Rashid said, "Is everything Mr. Keenan wanted ready?"

  "Sure. Plenty of Semtex, timers, both clockwork and pencil. Lots of det cord. Put that together with the forty tons of high explosives that train is carrying, and it's goodnight, Vienna."

  "Excellent," Kate Rashid said. "What do you think, Rupert?"

  "The great virtue is the simplicity of it."

  She smiled. "Yes, well, I always did like things simple."

  "There is one thing, Countess," Keenan said. "What happens afterwards? How do you explain it?"

  "Well, it's hardly my fault if Arab terrorists decided to blow up the Bacu Bridge, is it?"

  "Of course." Keenan smiled. "Now why didn't I think of that?"

  W hen the RAF Gulfstream was halfway to Hazar, Ferguson spoke to Villiers on his Codex and explained the situation. "So, Harry and I decided to come along for the ride, so that makes four of us. Will that be a problem?"

  "Not to me. Kate Rashid arrived with Dauncey and the three Irishmen, by the way. I had one of my Scouts at the airport looking out for them. They transferred to her Scorpion, with Ben Carver piloting, and went up-country."

  "Shabwa?"

  "I would say Fuad, so Keenan can pick up his supplies."

  "So we could stay at the Excelsior?"

  "I wouldn't recommend it. Even the barman and the hotel manager are on her payroll. I've set up camp about twelve miles out of town. I'll pick you up at the RAF compound with suitable gear."

  "What was that all about?" Dillon asked when Ferguson switched off.

  Ferguson explained, and Harry Salter said, "So we're going to look like the London Palladium cast of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves."

  "You'll love it, Harry, you and the General back with the Scouts, sitting beside a fire of dried camel dung, sleeping under the stars."