‘Of course they are, but they’re not as good a news story. People crying is losing its appeal and anyway, we’re keeping them away from the media as much as possible. At the moment, the media want fire and brimstone and that’s what the other side are giving them. All that screeching, ranting and raving. You know how it is. I’m afraid they are swaying the tide of public opinion in favour of the hijackers.’
‘So what can we do to stop it?’ Crane’s hand went up to his face to subconsciously scratch at his scar.
‘We’ve got to find a way of changing the tide. Get more support for the #releasethehostages campaign. Find a good angle to feed into Twitter and Facebook. That’s as good a place to start as any. All the major newspapers and television stations are monitoring Twitter very closely and putting pictures of live twitter feeds into their programmes.’
‘Any ideas as to how we can do that?’ Crane needed Dudley-Jones’ knowledge. He was definitely out of his depth when it came to social media and needed some guidance.
‘Well, I guess we need to get a media mogul on our side.’
‘A media mogul?’
‘Yes, someone who owns newspapers and television stations, get them to concentrate the efforts of their reporters into a #releasethehostages campaign.’
Crane shook a cigarette out of his box and lit it. His actions automatic, as his thoughts were elsewhere.
‘Thanks, DJ,’ he said. ‘You’ve been very helpful,’ and he wandered off along the station platform, a plan beginning to emerge, like a genie appearing out of the smoke from his cigarette. By the time the smoke dispersed, Crane had a plan. But would he have enough time to implement it, before the train was stormed? The only person who could answer that question at the moment was the Colonel so Crane made his way back to the waiting room.
Swapping the pure air of the Yorkshire Dales for the despondent fug in the station building, Crane walked through the door and over to Booth, who appeared to have gotten a second wind. A half-hour break for a quick sandwich and a shower, had clearly helped Booth’s disposition, which Crane figured meant he had a better chance of pulling his scheme off.
‘Can I have a word, please, sir?’ Crane interrupted the Colonel’s watching of the latest news bulletins.
‘What? Oh, it’s you, Crane, come on then, spit it out.’
‘Well, sir, I think I’ve a plan to help change public opinion and ensure the country is behind the idea of the forces going in and rescuing the hostages when they do.’
‘At the moment that doesn’t seem likely. Even though an hour ago he was all gung-ho and go in as soon as possible, the Prime Minister, for once, is actually bothered about public opinion and has now advised the Chiefs of Staff Committee that he can’t authorise a rescue mission at the moment. Looks like he’s actually being bullied into taking into account of what the people want, or at least think they want. For too long his reputation has been sullied by accusations of not understanding what real people’s lives are like. So for some reason he’s decided that this is the issue he can hang his hat on and become a ‘man of the people’ or some such gibberish. Even though privately he wants a rescue mission to be launched as soon as possible.’
‘Jesus Christ. Is the man a bloody idiot?’
‘You might think so, but I couldn’t possibly comment,’ the Colonel smiled as he quoted the famous line from the television series, House of Cards. ‘Anyway, anything you can do to help change his mind would be greatly appreciated.’
‘I’ve got a question, first, sir. Is it likely the lads will go in tonight?’
‘Haven’t you listened to what I’ve just said, Crane?’
‘Yes I have, sir, I just want it clarified.’
‘Alright then, is this plain enough for you? There will be no rescue mission tonight. For one the Prime Minister won’t authorise it and for two the weather isn’t right. The rain showers and cloud cover that were forecast have seemingly been delayed over Iceland would you believe, as if the bloody country hasn’t enough to answer for after that volcano fiasco. So, they’re not expected now until tomorrow night. So if we are to go in, tomorrow night is a better bet.’
‘Thank you, sir, then this is what I propose.’
14:30 hours
The sight of Colin lying across two seats, looking more and more like a dead body lying on a mortuary slab with each passing hour, was finally too much for Billy. Colin’s shirt was sweat stained, his trousers filthy. His discarded tie lay forlornly on the floor under his seat. The bloke was a bit of an idiot Billy had long ago decided, always bleating on about his office, the sales calls he had to make and the meetings he had to attend. He was forever insisting that people were relying on him, his employees, fellow directors and the like. But he was still a human being after all. So Billy really needed Kourash to let Colin go. He’d like Hazel to be released as well, but decided it was best not to push his luck. One would do for now. But how to achieve it? Kourash was well and truly pissed off with Billy, to the point that Billy doubted Kourash would entertain any of his suggestions. So he needed an in. He looked around at Hazel knitting, Peggy playing cards with Charlie, David watching them, Mick dozing by the blackened window and Emma, her nose in her book as usual. Emma. That was it. She could be the key. So he sidled over to her and asked if she’d help persuade Kourash to let Colin go.
‘Of course I’ll try, but what makes you think I have any sway with Kourash?’ Emma was doing a fair job of looking surprised, but Billy was after all Military Police and well versed in when people were swinging a line. He was convinced she was a damn sight closer to Kourash than she was admitting. But if that was the way she wanted it, he was happy to play along.
‘Oh,’ he said lightly, ‘it’s just that you’re the only one who has managed to have conversations with him. I’ve noticed he calls for you from time to time.’
‘Well, that’s only to discuss a book,’ Emma sniffed.
‘Discuss a book?’ That was a new one on Billy.
‘Yes, Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood.’
Not being a text he was familiar with, Billy didn’t see the irony, only the image the book title conjured up.
‘Sounds a bit gruesome to me,’ he said.
‘Not so much gruesome as factual, actually,’ Emma said. ‘It’s written by a famous American writer who wanted to change...’
‘Thank you, Emma, but I’m not here for a lecture in literature. Now, let’s go and see what we can do for Colin.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Emma, placing her book face down, still open at the page she was reading and they made their way to their captors, to ask permission to speak to their leader.
A few minutes later and they were back in the carriage. Billy wasn’t sure what to make of Kourash at all. He’d listened respectfully to Emma’s request and indeed his eyes did seem to soften when he looked at her. No such look for Billy, however. Kourash’s eyes glinted suspiciously and Billy felt Kourash hadn’t completely fallen for his ‘personal trainer’ routine. They were dismissed with a wave of his hand and a promise that he would think about it.
***
Sitting in the driver’s seat, with his feet up on the control panel, Kourash pondered the request. On the one hand he wanted to look good in Emma’s eyes and agree to release Colin. It would be one more step in making her fall under his spell. Her support for his cause being something he might need in the future. On the other, he didn’t want to appear weak in front of the authorities. Just ringing Keane up and telling him he was letting Colin go, didn’t seem the sort of thing a terrorist would do.
With a sigh, he lifted the telephone receiver to call Keane. He couldn’t seem weak. He’d have to find another way to appease Emma.
When Keane answered, Kourash immediately went on the offensive. ‘Has President Karzai agreed to talk to me, face to face, via satellite link? I need to know what’s going on, Keane.’
‘Hello to you too, Kourash,’ Keane replied, just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Well Keane was going to have to stop that if they were going to get anywhere, Kourash decided. He’d had enough of people not taking him seriously.
‘Now look here, Keane. I’m serious. I need confirmation that the President will speak to me about Bagram and about the prisoners he is prepared to release. Do you understand?’
‘Of course I do. It’s just that...’
‘Just what? What’s the matter?’ Kourash tried hard to keep any hint of desperation out of his voice. So far he hadn’t persuaded anyone to do anything. And now it looked like he couldn’t even get to talk to President Karzai. What the hell did he have to do?
‘The President would like you to release a hostage as a gesture of goodwill. So he knows that if he does something for you, you’ll reciprocate,’ Keane said.
‘But I have to do something first? Damn you, Keane and damn your bloody tit for tat routine. You do this for me and I’ll do that for you. You scratch my back...’
Kourash was having a hard time keeping his anger under control. But deep down he’d always known that he would have to release somebody eventually. Determined to not give anything away, Kourash decided to use the ideal gift unwittingly given to him by Emma and Billy.
‘Very well, I’ll let one hostage go.’
‘Who?’ Keane asked just that bit too quickly, which made Kourash smile.
‘We have an ill passenger. Colin somebody or other,’ Kourash deliberately sounded dismissive, as though the man meant nothing to him.
‘What’s the matter with him?’
‘Why?’ Kourash immediately countered, determined to keep Keane on the wrong foot.
‘So that we can be sure we have the right equipment and medication to administer to him as quickly as possible.’
‘Oh, right. Something to do with his heart. Anyway, now I’ve decided to let Colin go, the rest is up to you. Let me know how you intend to collect him. And you can’t come along the rails. Not after what’s happened before. Men who’ve tried to kill me. Elders who tried to persuade me to give up. No, this time you play by my rules. No vehicles and no men.’ Kourash’s voice had been getting louder and louder with each sentence, until in the end he was screaming at Keane. ‘Understand?’ and then he slammed down the receiver for good measure.
He smiled in satisfaction and went to get a fresh bottle of water while he waited for Keane to come up with a rescue plan.
15:00 hours
Keane loped back into the control room. ‘You heard that then?’
‘Yes, well done, Keane,’ the civil servant was obviously deciding to be civil this afternoon and Crane smiled to himself.
‘Well, I’ve done my bit, so it’s up to you lot how you get him out,’ Keane said and crossed the room to get a fresh cup of coffee.
‘Well, if we can’t go down the tracks,’ Crane started.
‘Then we’ll have to come in overhead,’ the Colonel finished.
‘Exactly. And I take it you have a rescue helicopter already on stand-by?’
‘Of course, Crane, I do know how to do my bloody job you know,’ the Colonel bristled.
‘Indeed, sir,’ Crane bobbed his head in acknowledgement. ‘Just make sure they go in on the far side of the train. We want to keep this out of the public eye as much as possible.’
‘Huump,’ was all the reply Crane got, as the Colonel turned his back on Crane and reached for a phone.
Crane drew Keane to the side of the room. ‘What do you think?’ he asked. ‘Can we trust Kourash to let a hostage go?’
‘Honestly?’
‘Yes,’ Crane replied impatiently.
‘I’ve no bloody idea.’
Keane fell onto a chair with the air of a man defeated by the job and by life in general. His head hung as though he couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.
‘Kourash will do whatever he wants to do,’ Keane mumbled at the floor and to Crane. ‘We can only hope for the best.’
‘Well you don’t look too full of hope.’
‘If the truth be known I’ve given up hoping, Crane,’ Keane said. ‘What’s that song? Que Será Será, or something. Whatever will be, will be,’ and Keane ended the conversation by walking outside.
Left alone, Crane scratched at his beard. What was that bastard Kourash up to now Crane wondered?
15:15 hours
By 15:15 hours, the beat of the rotary blades could be heard faintly in the distance and Kourash called for Billy to bring Colin through to the front of the train. Billy held Colin’s blubbery, half-conscious form upright as best he could, dragging and twisting him as he pulled the man along the aisle. The other hijackers watched in amusement, but didn’t offer to help. When Mick got up to assist Billy, he was stopped by the muzzle of an automatic weapon. Billy lurched through into the driver’s cab, tripping up and falling through the door, just as the helicopter arrived overhead. Scrambling up, he heaved Colin to his feet and propped him up against the wall, holding him in place with his hands.
‘They’re going to drop down a harness. Put him in it and they’ll winch him up,’ Kourash said to Billy, disdain for both hostages clear in his hooded eyes.
‘Aren’t they bringing down a man?’
‘No, I won’t let them. You’ll have to do it on your own.’
Billy looked from Kourash to Colin and wondered who was the more stupid of the two. Kourash’s madness seemed to know no bounds and Colin had proven time and again that he didn’t live in the real world. Thought his money would cushion his path through life. Well life had certainly thrown Colin a curved ball this time. The man’s pasty face was becoming greyer by the minute. His right arm still clutched his left. Slimy sweat covered his face and his shirt was opaque with it. Billy wasn’t at all sure Colin was going to make it. But he had to try to save him. He’d made enough fuss about getting Colin released.
The rumble of the winch could be heard over the blam blam blam of the rotary blades and hailed the arrival of the harness. With one hand holding up Colin, Billy reached through the open cab door. Fingers stretching and grasping in the turbulent air, reaching for a swinging, swaying rescue harness.
‘Kourash,’ Billy called, risking turning his head to look at the hijacker. ‘You’ll have to help me. Either take Colin, or grab the harness. I don’t much care which.’
Billy’s words were snatched away by the beating rotary arms. The buffeting air puffed up his shirt and rocked his body, which was perilously perched in the doorway. Billy looked down and wished he hadn’t. The ground seemed to fall away under his feet as he teetered on the edge of the 100’ drop. Colin’s weight shifted and began to slide diagonally across the wall towards Billy, his bulk pushing Billy further into the yawning gap. The man Billy was trying to help, suddenly becoming a weapon turned against him.
As a gust of air caught Billy on the chest and pushed him slightly back, he took his chance and let go of Colin, pushing backwards with his feet and letting the air pummel his body backwards into the safety of the cab. He tumbled over Colin’s feet and landed ignominiously on his arse. As he struggled to his feet he caught sight of Kourash’s sneer.
‘If you want Colin rescued, then you’ll have to help, you bastard,’ Billy spat. ‘If you grab the harness, I’ll hold him up and we can buckle him in. Or do you want the watching crew to tell everyone how they saw you deliberately kill Colin by not assisting in his rescue. Because he’ll certainly die if he doesn’t get off this train and if you don’t help me, he’s liable to fall out of the carriage, 100’ to his death.’
Kourash took a moment before moving to the door. Holding the grab handle above the door, he leaned out and grasped the harness, easily swinging it into the cab, holding it firm so Billy could manoeuvre Colin into it and snap shut the buckles which would hold him in place.
Colin’s head lolled against his chest and he seemed to be unconscious now. There had been no reaction at all when Billy buckled him into the harness. Billy wondered how much longer Colin had left in this world. But at least he’d done his bes
t to save him.
Okay,’ he shouted to Kourash and gave a thumbs up sign, in case he hadn’t heard.
Kourash nodded his agreement, leaned out of the doorway and spun a finger around in the air to indicate the winch could be reeled in.
Colin was dragged backwards out of the doorway, looking every bit like a puppet dangling from a string as his feet lifted off the floor and he was jerked away. Billy moved to go back into the carriage but Kourash shouted to him, ‘Wait,’ as he turned away from the door and picked up a satellite phone. Pushing the connection button he said, ‘Well?’ into the handset and listened closely to the answer.
He put the phone back on the console panel, shook his head slightly, picked up his AK47 and swung it so it was pointing at the rapidly disappearing Colin. He let off a burst of fire, paused and then repeated it. Twice.
As the helicopter banked steeply away from the train, dragging Colin behind it as though the man was a whippet following the hare, Billy yelled, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ astounded at the cruelty of the man. For someone like Billy, who had decency deeply ingrained in his psyche, he couldn’t fathom what on earth had caused Kourash to try and bring down the rescue helicopter, never mind try and shoot Colin.
‘They lied,’ Kourash growled. ‘So someone had to pay,’ and he smashed the butt of his automatic weapon into Billy’s stomach.
15:20 hours
Billy gaped at the sight of Colin still dangling from the rescue helicopter, when Kourash reached over, slammed the door shut and pulled the blind down again. Cutting off the image as surely as Colin’s life had been cut off.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Billy screamed from the floor, where he had been thrown by Kourash. But he could barely hear Kourash’s reply as his ear drums were still trying to recover from the barrage of automatic fire being discharged in such a small space. He wallowed in a dream like world, sounds weaving around him as though Kourash was speaking in slow motion. What he was saying Billy had no idea, but he was ranting like the lunatic he clearly was. Spittle flew from his mouth as he threw invective after invective around the small space.
A Soldier's Honour Box Set 2 (Sgt Major Crane crime thrillers Box Set) Page 53
