The Pirate

by Harold Robbins

  CHAPTER 11

  Baydr came into Dick’s office about four o’clock in the afternoon. He had been at the bank for lunch and gone to several meetings later. He glanced around the office. “Where’s Leila?”

  Dick looked up at him in surprise. “She went to Beirut this morning.”

  “Beirut?”

  Dick saw the blank expression on his face. “I thought you knew. She left with Jordana and the children. She told me it was okay with you if she and two friends made the trip. She wanted to go home for the weekend.”

  “I must be getting old. Strange, but I don’t remember a thing about it.”

  He went into his office, closing the door behind him. Dick stared after him, a vague apprehension beginning to build inside him. It wasn’t like Baydr to forget anything. The telephone rang; he picked it up. He listened for a moment then pressed down the hold button and went into Baydr’s office.

  Baydr looked up from behind his desk. “Yes?”

  Dick kept his voice level. “I have our man at the Beirut airport on the line. He’s been there since one o’clock and the plane hasn’t arrived yet.”

  Baydr picked up the phone, then covered the mouthpiece with one hand. “What time was it due there?”

  “About one thirty.”

  Baydr’s face paled slightly. He removed his hand from the mouthpiece. “This is Al Fay,” he said. “Call the air controller and find out if they have any word on the plane. I’ll hold on.”

  He looked up at Dick, covering the mouthpiece again. “I hope nothing’s happened.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dick said reassuringly. “Andy’s too good a pilot to let anything go wrong.”

  A voice came back on the line. Baydr listened for a moment then seemed to relax slightly. “Okay, thank you very much.”

  He put down the phone. There was a puzzled look on his face. “I don’t understand it. Air control in Beirut said the pilot requested clearance for Damascus.”

  Dick didn’t say anything.

  “Get on the phone to Damascus and find out if they’re on the ground there.”

  “Right away, chief.” Dick went back into his office and picked up the telephone. It took him twenty minutes to connect with air traffic control in Damascus. He listened for a moment then nodded, placed another call and went back into Baydr’s office.

  “Are they down there?” Baydr asked.

  Dick shook his head. “No. They told me they cleared the plane for Teheran via Baghdad.”

  Baydr exploded. “Hyatt’s gone out of his mind! He’ll hear from me about this.” Then he calmed down. “Put calls in to those airports and see what you can find out.”

  “I’ve already done that,” Dick said.

  “Good. Let me know as soon as you get word.” He leaned back in his chair and watched the door close behind Dick. There was only one possible reason for the change in flight plans. Jordana. She was trying to get the children away from him. He felt anger at his own stupidity. He never should have been so confident that she would do his bidding. Not after what had happened.

  A half-hour later Carriage returned. His face was grim. “They didn’t land at Teheran and Baghdad reports that there was no radar track of their crossing Iraqi territory. I checked back with Damascus and they report no signs of trouble or any word from the plane since it flew over them at about two o’clock this afternoon.”

  “The plane couldn’t have vanished just like that without leaving a trace.” Baydr was silent for a moment. “I think we’d better call for a search.”

  “Before we do that I have a man outside I think you should talk to,” Dick said.

  “Tell him to come back,” Baydr snapped. “I have more important things on my mind right now than business!”

  “I think what he has to say could have a bearing on where the plane might be.”

  Baydr stared at him. “Show him in.”

  Dick opened the door. “Would you please come in, Mr. Dupree?” A medium-size man in a nondescript gray suit came through the door. Dick walked with him to the desk. “Mr. Dupree, Mr. Al Fay.”

  Dupree bowed. “Honored, monsieur.”

  Baydr nodded but did not speak. He looked questioningly at Dick. “What has he got to do with the plane?”

  “Maybe nothing,” Dick said quickly. “But first perhaps I’d better explain.”

  Baydr nodded.

  Dick cleared his throat. It was evident that he was uncomfortable. “Mr. Dupree is a private investigator. We have used him several times before on confidential matters and he has proved himself to be completely trustworthy. Early this week because of certain remarks that Leila made I took it on myself to have him place her under surveillance.”

  Baydr’s voice was cold. “Why?”

  Dick met his gaze. “Because the day after we stopped the Arabdoll shipments she asked me to let them continue. When I refused because it was against your orders, she said that the Riad and Mafrad families were old friends and that her grandfather would be very embarrassed by it. She also said that I could have the shipments continued and that you would never have to know about them.” He took a deep breath. “When I found out from you that they were not friends I decided to learn what I could about her.”

  Baydr turned to the private detective. “What have you found out?”

  Mr. Dupree took some papers from his inside jacket pocket and unfolded them. He placed one copy on the desk before Baydr, gave one to Dick and held the other in his own hand. “Typewritten on that sheet of paper are the names of every person your daughter came into contact with this week, together with the times and places of their meetings.”

  Baydr looked down at the paper. One name stood out above all the others: Ali Yasfir. Leila had met with him five times this week, twice yesterday. Several other names were repeated but they were not familiar to him. He looked up at the private detective.

  “I’m afraid your daughter has been keeping dangerous company, monsieur,” the detective said. “Almost all the names on that list are known Arab terrorists or partisans and, as such, are kept under close surveillance by the Swiss police. They are young and a man called Yasfir appears to be their greatest financial supporter.

  “So the Swiss police gave a sigh of relief when Fouad Aziz and Ramadan Sidki, the two who were considered the most dangerous because they were both experts in the use of bombs and weapons, boarded the plane with your daughter and left the country. You may be sure that they will never be granted a reentry visas.”

  Baydr studied the paper for a moment. “Is there anything else?”

  “Only this, monsieur,” Dupree answered. “I took the liberty of calling the school your daughter used to attend in Montreux. I hoped to get some information on several of the girls she had been seeing. But they couldn’t tell me anything, except that they had not seen your daughter since early last May, when she left school in the company of a gentleman named Mr. Yasfir who represented himself as an associate of yours. The school was told that they were going to join you at the Cannes film festival. She never returned.”

  Baydr looked at Dick, then turned back to the private detective. “Thank you very much, Mr. Dupree. You’ve been most helpful.”

  The detective sighed. “The children nowadays.” He opened his hands in a typically Gallic gesture. “I have a teen-age daughter myself. One never knows what they’re up to.” He bowed. “If there’s anything further I can do for you, Monsieur Al Fay, please do not hesitate to call on me.” He bowed to Dick and left the office.

  Dick turned to Baydr. “I don’t like what I’m thinking, do you?”

  “No.” Baydr let out a deep breath. “But at least now we know the plane is safe, even if we don’t know where it is.”

  “It’s a big plane. They can’t hide one that size for long.”

  “Maybe.” Baydr’s voice was noncommittal.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Wait.”

  “Wait?” There was surprise in Dick’s voice.

  �
��Yes.” Baydr looked up at him. “We were wondering what Ali Yasfir’s next move would be. Now we know. Soon he will be in touch with us to tell us that he wants.”

  ***

  They stood at the edge of the small forest and looked back at the silver 707. Nine men were scrambling over the plane, putting the camouflage netting in place, so that it would be concealed from aerial view. Another plane would have to fly over it at less than twenty feet to spot it.

  Jordana turned to Hyatt, who was standing near, his eyes fixed on the plane. “You put her down beautifully, captain. Thank you.”

  “It was a little hairy there for a moment. I thought we were going to run into those trees at the end of the runway.” He turned back to the plane. “Why do you think they built a runway as big as this up here? From the looks of it, it’s at least three years since it’s been used.”

  “I wouldn’t know, captain,” she said.

  The man called Fouad came up to them. “Okay. Move out.” His English bore an American accent. He gestured with his gun toward the forest.

  Jordana walked over to the children, who were standing between their nanny and her maid, Magda. The boys were watching the camouflaging of the plane with great interest. She took their hands and waited.

  In front of them stood two soldiers in rough, poorly fitted battle uniforms. There were no markings on them to indicate what army, if any, they belonged to. At a signal from Fouad, they began to lead the way. Several other soldiers came up and walked beside them; others fell in behind. All held their rifles pointing at them.

  Jordana walked silently with the children. Leila and Ramadan were nowhere to be seen. They had been the first off the plane and a few minutes after landing, they had disappeared.

  The forest grew thicker and the branches of the trees and the bushes caught and tore at their clothing. Jordana tried to protect the children but within ten minutes there were scratches all over their arms and faces. She called to the nanny. “Anne, if you, Magda, Margaret and I walk in front with the children close behind us, they won’t get as many scratches.”

  The nanny nodded and the other girls came up to join them, forming a semicircle with the children in the middle.

  A few minutes later they came out of the forest onto a narrow dirt road. Two jeeps were parked there, each with a driver.

  “Into the cars,” Fouad said. “The ladies with the children in the first car, the men in the second.”

  A moment later the cars started up the road. It was narrow and bumpy and filled with potholes, a winding road that seemed to lead in and out of the forest but climbed continually up the side of the mountain. After about ten minutes, the air began to feel cooler.

  Jordana looked up at the sky. It was growing dark. Evening had come. She turned to the boys, wishing she had thought to bring their coats. But they had been left aboard the plane along with everything else.

  Five minutes later they came out of the forest into a clearing. At the edge of the clearing was a group of dilapidated wooden buildings. The buildings were surrounded by a low wall, on the top of which were mounted heavy machine guns at intervals. Each gun was attended by two soldiers. And there were searchlights on each corner.

  Jordana looked up at the soldiers as they drove into the camp, and they returned her gaze with open interest. A few called ribald comments after them but they could not be heard over the noise of the rattling jeep engines.

  The jeeps pulled to a stop in front of the largest of the buildings. The driver gestured for them to get out.

  Two men came out of the building and stood watching them. Ramadan, now dressed in uniform, was one. But Jordana had to look twice before she recognized the other. It was the uniform that fooled her. The second soldier was Leila.

  Leila came toward her. Somehow, in the uniform she seemed larger and coarser. All the prettiness that Jordana had seen in her was erased by the hardness of her manner. “You will occupy one cabin with the children and the other women,” she said. “The men another. Dinner will be brought to you in one hour. After you have eaten, the lights will be extinguished for the night. No smoking will be permitted after dark. From the sky the light from a cigarette can sometimes be seen for miles. Any infraction of our rules will be severely punished. Do you understand that?”

  “You won’t get away with it,” Jordana said. “When your father learns about this there will be no place left on earth or in heaven for you to hide.”

  Leila stared at her with contempt. “My father will do as he is told—that is, if he ever wants to see any of you alive again.”

  CHAPTER 12

  It was the next morning before they heard from him. His voice crackled over the wire. “We have important matters to discuss,” he said. “Much too important for the telephone. I think a meeting between us would be of mutual benefit.”

  Baydr’s voice was cool. “It might.”

  “Where would it be convenient for you?” Yasfir asked.

  “I’m in my office.”

  “I don’t think that would be a very good idea. With all due respect to you, there are too many opportunities to be overheard.”

  “We would be alone.”

  “Only Allah knows how many bugs lie hidden in the walls of buildings,” Yasfir said.

  “Where do you suggest?”

  “A mutually agreeable place, perhaps a bench in the park across the street from your hotel.”

  “When will you be there?”

  “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “I will be there.” Baydr put down the telephone. He pressed the buzzer on his desk. Dick came into the office. “He wants me to meet him in the park across the street from the hotel. Do you think our electronics man can pick up our conversation with a telescopic microphone from here?”

  “I don’t know. We can try.”

  “Get him up here then. We only have fifteen minutes.”

  The man was in the office in less than ten. Baydr took him to the window and pointed to the park across the street. “Can you get us from here?”

  “Maybe,” the man answered. “It depends on a lot of things. Street noises. Movement. It would help if you were to remain in one place.”

  “I don’t know,” Baydr answered. “A great deal will depend on the other man.”

  “I’ll set up. We’ll see what happens.”

  The man worked swiftly. He was checking out his amplifiers when Dick stuck his head in the door. “It’s almost time.”

  Reluctantly Baydr got ready to leave. He would have preferred to wait a few minutes more to find out whether the electronic eavesdropper would work but he was afraid to be late. He walked through the outer office to the door. Jabir rose to follow him.

  Baydr gestured. “Wait here,” he said.

  Jabir returned to his seat. As soon as the door had closed behind Baydr, Dick beckoned to him. “Your master will be in the park across the street,” he said. “Follow him but keep your distance and do not allow him to see you. I fear for him.”

  Jabir nodded and without speaking left the office. When he came out of the entrance to the hotel, Baydr was already crossing the street. Jabir stationed himself near the corner, where he could keep his eyes on him.

  Baydr crossed the street and entered the small park. An old woman was sitting on the first bench, wrapped against the cold autumn winds, feeding the pigeons. Baydr sat down on the far end of the bench away from the old woman. He looked up and down the path. There was no one there—not even office workers taking a shortcut on their way to work. He reached for a cigarette.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was on his fourth cigarette and beginning to wonder whether Yasfir had led him on a wild-goose chase when abruptly the old woman got up and left the bench. His eyes followed her curiously as she walked to the curb outside the park and got into a taxi. Odd that a woman dressed as shabbily as she should be able to afford a taxi. Then the thought struck him. He looked at the corner of the bench where she had been sitting. There under the bag of peanuts s
he had left behind was a sheet of ordinary white paper. His eyes scanned the typewritten message.

  My apologies for not meeting but urgent business has taken me from the country. Besides, our meeting would serve no effective purpose for our requests are simple and can be transmitted on this sheet of paper. I am pleased to inform you that your wife and children have arrived safely at their destination and are all well. Tomorrow morning you will receive a tape of your wife’s voice reassuring you of this fact. In order to guarantee our continued interest in their well-being you will comply with the following requests:

  Deposit $100,000 U.S. each morning before 12 noon to the account No. AX1015 at the Banque d’Assurance in Geneva. This is to reimburse us for the care given your family while they are our guests.

  Allow the shipments previously rescinded to continue as planned. The next shipment will take place four days from now to be followed by a shipment every other day until the end of the year.

  You will have prepared and signed by yourself, in blank, an effective instrument of transfer in the amount of a 50 percent equity in your company. This together with a payment of $10,000,000 U.S. will be turned over to the account of the bank listed above not later than 5 Jan. 1974.

  In the event that all of the above conditions are met promptly, your wife and sons will be returned to you before 10 Jan. in time for the investiture of your eldest son as prince. Any breach of the confidentiality of this agreement or any failure to meet with the terms exactly as specified could lead to the death of one or all members of your family. As further indication of our goodwill and in order to assure you of their continued well-being, you will receive each day at your office in Geneva a tape of your wife’s voice in which she will read a headline from the previous day’s Paris Herald Tribune and give you some personal words regarding their general condition. Of course, your aid in the war against our common enemies is expected. IDBAH AL-ADU!

  It was signed BROTHERHOOD OF PALESTINIAN FREEDOM FIGHTERS.

  Slowly Baydr got to his feet and started back to his office in the hotel. Dick was waiting for him as he came in the door.