took out his mobile.
Like many young and unemployed Muslim men, Kalid Hasim made a bare living on the fringes of the drug trade as a delivery boy. It was a great risk for a small return, but Hasim considered it only temporary. For him, boxing was the way out, and he was punching the bag in his gym in Camden when his mobile sounded; he’d put it with his towel on a bench.
‘It’s me, number one man,’ Lancy said.
They had never met. Lancy was a voice on the phone since the first call, when he’d suggested that Hasim and a couple of his friends might like to smash up a shop selling anti-Muslim literature, promising five hundred pounds in the post. Hasim had taken a chance and had been delighted with the outcome. He’d repeated the exercise on many occasions.
‘So what have you got?’
‘Just listen.’ He explained the situation. ‘Just aggravation is what I’m after. Smash up a few motors in the car park … and there’s a boat tied up at the jetty. Sinking that would be good.’
‘When do you want it done?’
‘Tonight, but I’ve got to warn you. The Salters are real hard men, so don’t hang about. In and out before they know what’s going on. There’s a grand in it for you.’
‘Consider it done.’
‘Good lad,’ Lancy told him. ‘But remember that right hand. You’re leaving yourself wide open when you punch.’
‘Fuck off,’ Hasim told him.
‘Not nice, a decent young Muslim talking like that,’ and then he surprised Hasim by speaking in Arabic for the first time. ‘Allah is great and Osama is his prophet.’
He switched off and drove away.
Meanwhile, the Preacher was contacting his most important Al Qaeda asset in Peshawar. He got an instant response.
‘The day of wrath must come,’ Shah said, establishing his credentials.
‘Then only the believers will survive. It is good to hear you, Preacher. How can I help?’ his asset answered.
‘Not me, but the cause of Al Qaeda. You are to have two visitors. They have just left London by Gulfstream. They are important because they are on British government business, but they are a problem for us.’
‘Who are they?’
‘A General Charles Ferguson and Major Harry Miller. They are there on a fact-finding mission. There is alarm in London over reports of young British Muslims fighting for the Taliban.’
‘Which is true.’
‘Yes, but there is more to their trip. There is evidence of a mercenary commander operating with the Taliban who uses the code name Shamrock. Have you heard anything of such a man?’
‘Not a whisper. Are you sure about this? Perhaps it’s only rumour?’
‘No. Shamrock is one of Al Qaeda’s most important assets. His identity must be protected at all costs. As far as you are concerned, he doesn’t exist. My information is that Ferguson and Miller have been promised the assistance of two men in Peshawar. Their names are Dak Khan and José Fernandez.’
‘I know these men well. Illegal arms dealers, amongst other things. I can put my hand on them at any time. As regards the visitors from London, do I frighten them or kill them?’
‘Both Ferguson and Miller have done great harm to Al Qaeda in the past. I think it is time that their debts were paid.’
‘No problem. Leave it with me.’
‘Osama’s blessing on you.’
Shah hung up, and the man at his desk at Military Police Headquarters in Peshawar, Colonel Ahmed Atep, lit a cigarette and sat back, smiling. So, life could get interesting. The prospect pleased him very much.
NORTHERN IRELAND
LONDON
5
Earlier in the day, Justin Talbot’s flight had taken him over North Wales and Anglesey, and now he was sweeping in towards the Mourne Mountains, a wonderful sight on a perfect day.
It had been an excellent flight, but he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as usual. His dealings with the Preacher had been deeply disturbing. It wasn’t just the shock of discovering that his mother’d had him baptized a Catholic as a baby. It was more that the Preacher knew about his exploits with the SAS, which were supposedly top secret. Where in the hell had all that come from? The power of these Al Qaeda people was frightening, and he cursed the day he’d ever got involved.
He wondered for a moment if he could buy his way out. On his grandfather’s death, he would become fabulously rich, and he was cynical enough by nature to believe that most people in life had their price, particularly when you were talking in the millions. But on the other hand,