by Oliver Tidy
As soon as she saw him coming, Zeynep got in the car and shut her door. Acer got in the back and they accelerated away.
***
29
As she sped along the beach road heading east, Zeynep looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Acer feeling his face. He looked like he’d been in a fight. She said, ‘What happened?’
Acer said, ‘They weren’t all going to be so easy. Three out of four wasn’t bad.’
‘What happened, Acer?’
Acer met Zeynep’s stare in the mirror. He said, ‘He knew the risks. It was him or me. You remember that feeling?’
Mo said, ‘You killed him?’
Acer said, ‘I think so. Like I said: him or me.’
Mo said, ‘Shit. Who were they? How did they know we were there?’
Acer said, ‘That can wait. We need to get rid of this car. Quickly. They were looking at it when they arrived. Either they knew to be looking out for it, in which case others could be, or when they start coming around one of them will remember our licence plate number.’
The Sea of Marmara was on their right. Acer looked across at the islands and thought of his daughter. On the opposite side of the road, long parades of shops and restaurants – all open, it seemed, and bustling with people – were interspersed with stretches of residential buildings.
Acer said, ‘We can’t risk flying to Gaziantep now. Flight passenger lists are too easy to check and we have to assume that they will. We’ll have to drive it. They won’t know where we’re going. How long would it take to drive?’
Zeynep thought. ‘Eleven, twelve hours. About that if you did it nonstop.’
Acer looked at his watch. ‘We could still be there in the early half of the morning. If no one has a better idea, that’s what we should do. But we need to ditch this car first and get something else.’
Zeynep said, ‘Sabiha Gökçen airport is this way. We could leave it there and rent another.’
‘Good idea. Let’s do that.’
Mo said, ‘So now that’s sorted, who were they and how did they know where to find us?’
Zeynep said, ‘They weren’t police. I think they were private thugs.’
Acer said, ‘Something to do with your brother?’
‘Perhaps. When the man from the paper called in about Mo’s visit. . . hang on. . . did you give your name when you went to the paper?’
‘They wanted to see some ID. I couldn’t think of anything else on the spot except show them mine. Sorry.’
Zeynep said, ‘Don’t say sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.’
‘Zeynep’s right,’ said Acer. ‘You did a good job this morning. None of us thought it would go the way it has.’
Zeynep said, ‘It would explain how they traced us to the hotel. And we hired that car in your name, Mo.’
Acer said, ‘So whoever they were back there, it’s more likely that they are something to do with protecting deep state?’
Zeynep said, ‘It looks like it. Possibly, in that case, they were something to do with my brother.’
Acer said, ‘I’m sure it’ll be a police matter now. A man could be dead back there.’
Zeynep said, ‘I don’t know. Perhaps they wouldn’t want the attention.’
Mo said, ‘Or perhaps they will want lots of attention because lots of attention will get us caught quicker and then they can do what they like with us.’
***
30
They parked the car in a designated long-stay area. The two women stayed with it while Acer went into the airport to hire something else.
He pulled up behind them a little less than an hour later. Mo and Zeynep got out and got their bags from the boot.
Mo looked at the luxury four-by-four vehicle he’d hired and let him know she approved. ‘At least we’ll travel in style.’
Acer said, ‘That’s what I thought. A bit of comfort. It’s going to be a long drive.’
They stowed their luggage. Despite feeling weary and having a throbbing cheekbone, Acer said he’d take the first few hours behind the wheel. Mo sat up front with him and Zeynep stretched out in the back to try to get some sleep before her driving shift.
From a carrier bag, Acer produced a box of phone-charging leads and adaptors that would recharge a mobile phone from a car.
Mo congratulated him on his thinking and his purchases before relieving him of them and sorting out what they needed for their phones.
Acer took some aspirin from another bag and washed them down with bottled water. He passed the carrier bag of drinks and sugary snacks across.
Mo said, ‘Were you a Boy Scout, Acer?’
Smiling at her, he said, ‘No. I’ve learned my lessons the hard way. Can you sort the Sat Nav for me?’
His phone rang. He answered it and activated the loudspeaker. ‘Yes?’
‘What are you doing, Mr Sansom?’
‘You mean now? This moment?’
‘You know what I mean. Let us not play games. Games are for children. Where are you?’
There was an edge to Kaan Oktay’s voice that hadn’t been there before.
‘That’s my business. What do you want?’
‘Did you kill my sister? I still can’t find anything on the Internet about her death.’
‘Yes. Her home was quite remote. It’ll probably take a few days yet before she’s found.’
‘I see. The reason I ask is that I’ve just watched some CCTV film taken very recently at the Hotel Suadiye. Are you familiar with the establishment?’
Acer exchanged looks with the women. Zeynep was upright on the back seat.
‘If you’ve watched the film, then you’ll know that I am. Why did you send armed men to my hotel looking for me?’
‘At the time I didn’t know it was your hotel, Mr Sansom. How could I have? I was looking for someone else. And I see that she is in your company along with someone who looks remarkably like my sister. Oh, and she signed in using my sister’s name. I’m thinking that she is my sister, Mr Sansom. I’m thinking that you’re lying to me. I’m thinking that you didn’t kill her. You are not behaving like a man who really wants his daughter back, Mr Sansom. You are behaving like a man who doesn’t care or a man who doubts the danger his child is in. In case that is it, Mr Sansom, let me see if I can help your understanding where your daughter is concerned.’ The increasing noise of a child’s crying could be heard. ‘Bring her here,’ said Oktay. The noise of the crying increased as the source of it came closer to the phone. ‘Can you hear her, Mr Sansom? Your daughter? Say ‘Hello Daddy’. Say it. Say it! Oh, she’s a stubborn one, your little girl, Mr Sansom. You should see her face. I mean it, you really should. . . before something horrible happens to it.’ The noise of the child’s crying had not stopped. ‘Get her out of here,’ said Oktay. The noise faded. ‘Anything you’d like to say, Mr Sansom?’
‘You hurt a hair on her head. . .’
‘Please. I’ve heard it all before from bigger, better-connected men than you. Can’t you be a little more original? Listen to me, Mr Sansom, and listen well. I don’t know what game you think you’re playing with me, but know this: I don’t lose games. I don’t lose anything. . .’
Zeynep said, ‘Hello, brother.’
Oktay’s tone changed to ooze satisfaction that he’d prompted a reaction he couldn’t have hoped for. ‘So. Now we get down to what the English call the nitty-gritty. My dear sister. How considerate of you to visit.’
‘Still as crazy as ever, eh, brother? Frightening little girls makes you feel big, does it?’
Oktay started talking in Turkish, but Zeynep cut him off. ‘Keep it in English. It will save me the job of translating your rubbish.’
‘Why are you here, Zeynep?’
‘I think you know why. Enough is enough. Kemal did not die well or quickly. None of them did. And neither will you when your time comes.’
Oktay laughed loudly. ‘You always were the melodramatic one. I see you’ve brought your disgusting friend with you
. Well, at least your both being here will save me another Canadian air fare.’
‘Just shut up and listen, brother. You will learn something to interest you. I promise. Deep state.’
For a long moment, Oktay said nothing, ‘I’m listening.’ He did not sound quite as sure of himself.
‘No games, you said. It wouldn’t be good for business, would it, for you and our family to be exposed as part of deep state?’
Again there was a long pause. ‘Admitting nothing, do you have evidence to back up your claim?’
‘I’m getting it. That’s why I’m back.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Believe what you like.’
He had no quick answer for that.
‘Let me ask you a question, brother. With the political climate the way it is in Turkey these days, how would it be for the Oktay family to be implicated in deep state? Do you think the ruling party would ignore the revelations? Do you think you would be left alone to continue with your organised crime, your underworld activities? Or do you think that maybe there could be trouble for you? I know my Turkish contemporary history, brother. I know what is happening in my country. I know who is strong and who is now weak. I know that proven associations with deep state would ruin you. You’d go to jail for a very, very long time. That’s if they didn’t just disappear you to save them the trouble, expense and embarrassment.
‘So here is what I suggest, brother. Get my sister and her children, all of them, ready to leave. Start saying your goodbyes. Enjoy your last days together. Because when I have my evidence their freedom is part of what I want from you. Their freedom and my freedom.’
‘Or I could stop you getting it.’
‘There is always that option. And to be honest in your position that is what I would try to do. But then if you fail and I succeed I might just be that little bit more annoyed with you. It might lead me to do something that I wouldn’t otherwise have done.’
‘We will see. Mr Sansom?’
‘I’m still here.’
‘You have disappointed me.’
‘I can’t say that I’m too thrilled with your attitude either,’ said Acer. ‘You hurt any of them and this deep state shit will be all over the front pages of every national newspaper here and abroad. That will be another way we can do it. And then if the real state doesn’t kill you, I will. If you doubt my ability to do that, look me up on the Internet.’
Acer terminated the call. He said, ‘Well, that’s cleared the air. At least we all know where we stand now. That Sat Nav ready?’
***
Day 4
31
They drove. Acer called Crouch to explain the change of plan and that it would delay them for a few hours at most. Crouch gave him an address and phone number in Gaziantep and told him that he’d notify Carswell – the American contact Acer should ask for.
Only the driver stayed awake. The navigation system kept them on the main highways – the most direct route. Being night, other than the linear kilometres of highway beneath them and the cubic kilometres of darkness around them, there was nothing to see. They stopped only to refuel the car and themselves, for comfort breaks, to change drivers and for tolls. They skirted big anonymous towns, slid past huge neon deposits of cities and drove through great swathes of unseeable open country. They sped past historic archaeological sites, cut through hectares of dense forest and followed the paths blasted through the mountainous regions. The navigation system kept up its constant commentary of place names as the kilometres ticked by.
*
They made good time and arrived on the outskirts of Gaziantep by midmorning. Zeynep was at the wheel then. Acer was reclined in the front passenger seat and Mo was stretched across the back seat.
Zeynep gave Acer a shove that woke him. ‘We’re here,’ she said.
The navigation system directed them to an office block in the centre of what looked like the city’s business district. Zeynep stopped the car at the kerb. She yawned and said, ‘What now?’
Acer said, ‘I’ll ring Carswell.’
Mo stirred in the back, stretched, made a noise to go with it, said sorry when she remembered where she was and then said, ‘Oh, look. You’ve stopped outside my favourite coffee franchise. Who’s got some Turkish lira? I’ll get them.’
Zeynep handed over her purse. ‘Get some cake, too, would you? I need something sweet.’
Acer rang Carswell. He answered quickly and said he was out of the office for a few minutes. Acer said they’d wait for him in the coffee shop opposite the building.
Carswell said, ‘Are you driving a black Jeep?'
Acer looked about them and said, ‘Yes.’
‘I’m already there. Come on in.’
Carswell stood to meet them. He was tall, overweight, fair skinned, blond haired, blue eyed and had a big natural smile. He said, ‘You made good time. I wasn’t expecting you for an hour or more.’
Acer said, ‘We had a clear run.’
Carswell held Acer’s grip longer than he needed to. He made significant eye contact. ‘It’s a privilege to meet you, Acer. Toby thought I might need reminding about what you did for my countrymen and women. I didn’t. Anything you need, just ask.’
Acer seemed a little embarrassed when he said, ‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Who’s Toby?’
‘Crouch.’
Acer smiled. ‘I did wonder what the T stood for.’
They sat and Carswell asked them what they wanted. Then he went to the counter to order it.
Zeynep said, ‘What did you do for America to make him so grateful?’
‘It’s another of those long stories.’
‘You’ve got a few of those, haven’t you?’
‘Just a couple.’
Carswell came back to their table with a tray of drinks. He said, ‘So what’s with the change of plan? Why not fly? Would have saved you some time.’
Acer said, ‘We had a problem in Istanbul. An influential man who might have tried to stop us boarding a plane.’
Carswell grunted. ‘Trouble, then?’
‘Just attention we wanted to avoid.’
‘Toby told me that there were only two of you going across.’
‘That’s right,’ said Acer. ‘Mo will wait here for us. Can you find her a place to stay?’
‘Sure. No problem. She can stay on our base.’
‘America has a base down here?’
Carswell smiled. ‘It’s sort of an unofficial one. Everyone prefers it that way. You’ll have to go across at night. It’s the safest way. I’ve got a team of guys prepping for it. We should head over as soon as you’ve finished. Toby was a little sketchy with the details. You want to let me in on what’s going on?’
Acer had thought about this while he’d been driving. The Americans would want to know what they were risking themselves for and those involved would have a right to know. But Acer was also concerned that if they were able to come back with anything relating to deep state in Turkey, the Americans might be a little too interested in finding out something about that for themselves. And then Acer and Zeynep’s value of the material might soon be diluted or diminished completely as the Americans made use of it for their own needs.
Acer said, ‘To cut a very long story as short as I can, it’s a personal matter. There is a man in Istanbul, a powerful man – heavily involved in organised crime – who has control of my daughter and Zeynep’s sister and her children. To all intents and purposes, he is holding them hostage. There is nothing that the authorities can or would do to help us. We show our faces there, we’re probably dead. We hope – no, we believe – that in Aleppo there is a woman who has something that we can use to barter for the freedom of our loved ones.’
Carswell said, ‘I get it. Well, like I said, the USA owes you, Acer.’
‘Much as I don’t think it does,’ said Acer, ‘help us get there and back in one piece, and we can call it quits.’
***
32
&nbs
p; They followed Carswell out of the city towards the south in the direction of the Turkish/Syrian border. They were well awake now, with a combination of caffeine stimulant and the nearness of the border, with its promise of danger for two of them and hours of anxious waiting for the third.
The road was good and wide and not busy. They passed by huddles of buildings and through little hamlets. Everywhere looked the same: poor and ignored. If it hadn’t been for the satellite dishes, the buildings would have been hard to date the century from. What infrastructure there was spoke of functional utilitarian compromise on a budget. The people they passed hinted at Middle Eastern values. The landscape suggested lives of hard labour for those who worked it.
In under an hour they came to the outskirts of the city of Kilis. They were less than ten kilometres from the Turkish/Syrian border. Carswell swung left, leaving the main highway that went on into the heart of the city. A couple of kilometres more and they turned off that road onto something resembling a farm track. They bumped along that for about another kilometre without encountering another building, another living soul, or a tree, before cresting a small hill. In the saucer of land below squatted a very isolated collection of farm buildings stuck in the middle of a field.
Acer’s first thought as they got close enough to make out the details was that they’d made a wrong turn. He exchanged anxious looks with the women. The ramshackle complex of stone buildings built in a horseshoe design around a central yard looked completely neglected and uninhabited. Abandoned and desolate. There were tiles off the roofs, paint peeling off every wooden surface, broken panes of glass in the windows and clumps of tall weeds that had invaded, unchecked everywhere.
As they drove into the yard, they saw the first sign of life since leaving the main highway: a chained and vicious-looking mongrel dog was rearing up on its back legs and barking furiously and continuously. The front door to the main building opened and out stepped a Western-looking man in dusty civilian clothes of the region. He carried a semi-automatic weapon and wore a holstered pistol around his waist. He touched a finger to his forehead in welcome. Acer relaxed.
