Medusa

Excited to be caught up in an event that was world news, he chatted on like that all the way out to the green-flashing beacon on the south side of Bloody Island. It slid past us very close, the bulk of the hospital a solid backdrop, the tower outlined against the stars, and I was wondering what Gareth intended to do, how I could persuade him that Soo’s life was more important than his career. I was leaning against the canopy, the beat of the engine pulsing through my body and the launch already swinging in a wide arc to come alongside, the lit outline of the frigate growing larger.

There was no other reason that I could see for what had happened. If somebody had told them the commander of the British frigate was in love with my wife … But did they really believe the man would take his ship to sea without specific orders? Thinking it over, it seemed barely possible, but then men who live by violence often find it difficult to accept that others are governed by a code of social behaviour and operate within the framework of a disciplined order. I had seen something of that myself. The idea that every man has his price is mirrored in the belief that violence is totally effective in changing people’s minds. Why else use torture?

It was that thought that was in my mind as we slid alongside the frigate’s accommodation ladder and I stepped out on to the wooden grating. The sudden rush to leave Malta, the way Gareth had dropped his anchor in about the most conspicuous position in the whole long inlet, the blazing lights above my head — the ship was there for a purpose, and that purpose could only be to act as a block to any power thinking of supporting a rebel regime unopposed. If I was right, then Soo’s life was of total unimportance as compared with the job Lieutenant Commander Lloyd Jones RN had been sent here to do. Her death, even her torture, could make no difference, and knowing that, I felt sick with fear as I climbed the gangway.

I was met at the top by one of the officers, I can’t remember who. He took me to the Captain’s day cabin where we had breakfasted — was it only that morning? I barely heard him tell me the Captain would be with me shortly as I tried to marshal my arguments, my mind perversely concentrated on all the forms of torture I had heard and read about, a picture there as vivid as the day I had seen it — on a beach in Mali, a palm-frond hut, and lying there in his own excreta with the flies crawling, the only man I have ever seen tortured to death. His face — I could see his face still, the lips chewed to ribbons, the teeth protruding white and the eyes starting from his head. And then I was thinking of Soo as I had last seen her, laughing as she had left me on the quay at Addaia.

I went over to the settee and sat down, suddenly tired, the two images merging, so that in my mind’s eye I saw them as one, the Arab’s tortured features superimposed on Soo’s. I don’t remember how long I sat there, numbed at the vision of what might happen to her if Gareth didn’t take his ship out of Mahon. This wasn’t just a matter of Ismail Fuxá and his personal ambitions. It was bigger than that, much bigger, Fuxá just a pawn in a game being played far away from Menorca behind closed doors. Political figures with hot lines and satellites at their disposal. A young woman, held as a hostage — that was nothing. A unit of flesh. Disposable. Just as this ship was disposable, the men I had lived with on the hurried run from Malta …

‘Glad we were able to contact you.’ His voice was flat. It seemed tired, and he didn’t smile as he crossed the cabin, pulled up a chair and sat down facing me. ‘I don’t know how long we’ve got. Not long.’ He sounded resigned, his face grey as though he hadn’t slept for a long time. I thought he had aged since I had seen him that morning, the broad forehead puckered deeper, the lines at the corners of eyes and mouth more pronounced, and he just sat there staring at me dumbly.

‘Where is she?’ I asked.

He gave a little shrug. But he didn’t say anything. It was as though he didn’t know how to begin.

‘They’ve contacted you, have they?’

He nodded.

‘So where is she? Where is she being held?’

‘Then you know.’ He seemed relieved, the knowledge that he hadn’t got to break the news to me releasing his tongue. ‘I sent across to Bloody Island for you as soon as it was dark, but you weren’t there. Then we saw lights in your place at Cala Figuera, so I took a chance and sent young Leslie Masterton in to see if you were there. I’m glad you were.’ His eyes were fixed on me. ‘What happened? Do you know?’