Exit wound

The cell door opened and Ginger came in with two proper mugs and a couple of mini-packets of ginger nuts. I was still in a good mood. ‘Family recipe?’

He laughed. He was all right. I’d had a brew with him in the canteen over breakfast. He’d even apologized for giving my wrists the good news.

Julian wasn’t one for distractions. ‘He was a student when Khomeini took power in ’seventy-nine. He spent four years piecing together documents that the Shah had shredded before he fled. Imagine working on the world’s biggest jigsaw puzzle, day after day.’

‘So what’s he doing now, on a Russian aircraft? Doesn’t sound good, mate.’

Julian’s jaw hardened as he opened one of his new folders. ‘He’s Iran’s backroom negotiator. He makes the deals with the Taliban, Iraqi insurgents, Hezbollah – any extremist group that needs training, support, weapons. In fact, anyone Iran supports against the West.’ He passed over the folder. ‘We have a big problem, Nick. That aircraft is not just any Russian aircraft. It’s Russian government – hence the RF marking. That would be bad enough, but worse still, the plane really belongs to M3C.’

‘The rapper? He a mate of yours?’

The most recent folder was brimming with brochures. Like any other company on the planet with something to sell, Moscow Missile Manufacturing Complex didn’t hold back on the glossy marketing bumph. The only difference was that M3C wasn’t flogging shower units or timeshares by the Black Sea.

We sat there in silence. I was sure we were thinking the same thing. Had Saddam’s doors been used as payment for some of this shit? If so, where was it going to end up, and who was going to be on the receiving end?

Julian grimaced. ‘Scary thought, isn’t it? Can you imagine a C-130 full of troops or an Apache getting shot down over Kandahar? Or missiles coming into this country, taking out commercial flights on their way into Heathrow? The good citizens of Putney won’t be too pleased if a giant Airbus comes down their chimney.’

I dunked my ginger nut and gave it a munch. ‘Not good, mate, not good. But I’m in north London. I don’t think I’m on a flight path.’

He wasn’t about to let himself be thrown off course. ‘It’s becoming increasingly obvious that the US cannot stabilize Afghanistan or Pakistan. This company’s activities could result in a mountain of body bags. If domestic pressure made Obama pull out, China would close its borders with Pakistan and establish a Pak-Taliban pact. Iran would then pull out all the stops in Afghanistan, just as it has in Iraq. And nuclear India? They won’t just stand by and watch. They’d be forced to take action against a nuclear Pakistan.’

He turned down my offer of a biccie. ‘Then we all bunker down and wish we were born two hundred years ago.’

‘You’d have been singing “Old Man River”.’

I finally got a smile. ‘While we’re on the subject of slavery, I have a job for you. More CONTEST.’

I didn’t reply, but I didn’t have to.

‘The Falcon landed in Tehran. There were no stopovers, so that’s where the gold was taken. There’s an arms fair starting there in three days, and M3C is an exhibitor. You’re the only one who might be able to make a positive ID of our prime suspect. I want you to find this guy Altun and get me an up-to-date photograph. I want to know who he meets, where and why. Maybe then we can find out what’s being sold and to whom.’

Julian went into smile overdrive. ‘Today Paddington. Tomorrow Tehran. We’ll finish my briefing here, then there’s someone across town who needs your full attention.’

‘Can’t I go home first and get some real gear on?’ I tugged at my polo shirt.

‘Don’t worry about it. Trinny and Susannah won’t be there.’

42

DIS building, London

Sunday, 3 May

1430 hrs

We walked the three miles from Paddington Green to Whitehall. After two days of incarceration, Julian thought I’d want to stretch my legs. While we were at it, he briefed me on the DIS and Squadron Leader Gavin Kettle.

According to their website, the mission of the Defence Intelligence Staff was to provide ‘timely intelligence products, assessments and advice to the Ministry of Defence to guide decisions on policy and commitment and employment of the UK’s armed forces, to inform defence procurement decisions and to support military operations’. Alongside MI5, MI6 and GCHQ, it went on, DIS also contributed to the UK’s threat assessment picture at any given time. Despite the general cutbacks, the DIS still seemed to be relatively well resourced.

‘Just don’t mention weapons of mass destruction,’ Julian had said. ‘They still can’t see the funny side of that particular load of bollocks.’

If this man ever did make it to the top, the Queen could sleep easy in her bed at night. The security of her dominions would be in good hands.

‘You ever had dealings with them?’

I shook my head. Not in ten years with the Regiment, or the same again as a deniable operator.