Ultimatum, page 34
Thirty seconds later the team was on its feet and moving fast across the valley over open ground. The rescue mission had begun.
Chapter 98
Namakdan Salt Caves, Qeshm Island
KARIM ZAMANI LOOKED as if he were going to explode with anger. With his arms bound behind his back and still in the firm grip of the thugs who had seized him, Luke stood his ground as Tannaz’s father let forth a stream of vitriol. He could see a blue vein pulsing on the man’s temple and there was a sheen of sweat on his face. Since his tirade was all in Farsi, Luke only understood one word – a name: Tannaz.
As Zamani’s outburst ended, he backhanded Luke across the face. He grimaced and tasted blood. The guards around Zamani weren’t laughing now. Stern-faced, they stood as if awaiting orders. Play for time, Carlton. The rescue team will be here any minute. Luke watched as Zamani took a step back and shouted over his shoulder. Moments later, he heard boots on the rough cave floor and two more guards appeared, dragging a diminutive figure between them. Tannaz. She was hobbling, obviously in agony, her hair demurely covered with the ragged blue shawl he’d picked up in Bandar Khamir what felt like a lifetime ago.
It couldn’t hide the livid purple welt on her cheek. She’d been hit and hit hard. He felt his blood begin to boil. Their eyes met, for just a second, before she meekly bowed her head. It was enough for him to see the fear in her face. Luke couldn’t begin to imagine what it must be like to realize that the man you’d grown up loving as a father was no longer your protector but the very opposite.
Luke hadn’t spoken a word since he’d been seized – he’d taken his beating in silence – and refused to show any emotion. But inside he was screaming. It wasn’t the pain of the blows that had been meted out by Zamani’s people – he’d been trained to take such treatment – it was the terrible realization that what had happened to the girl was his fault. If he and Tannaz had never met she would be safely across the border and out of the country with her mother and brother by now.
Movement shook Luke out of his reverie. A timid-looking man had stepped forward from behind Zamani. He coughed quietly, almost politely, before addressing Luke in heavily accented English. ‘Mr Zamani he says that you have dishonoured his daughter and his family. You are a Zionist spy and an enemy of the Islamic Republic of Iran. And he says that now you must pay for your crimes.’
As the man stepped back and resumed his place, the two guards pulled Tannaz forward. She bit back a yelp of pain and Luke broke his silence at last. ‘Zamani, for fuck’s sake! Leave her out of this!’ he shouted. ‘She’s done nothing wrong.’
They ignored him. Instead, he watched with mounting horror as Karim Zamani reached inside his jacket and withdrew what could only be a long knife in a leather sheath. Zamani went up to his daughter, seized her arm and jerked her towards him. After his earlier outburst he now spoke so quietly that his words were almost inaudible. But what he said was enough for his daughter to break into sobs and shake her head. ‘No, Baba,’ she kept saying.
Slowly, almost sensuously, Karim Zamani unsheathed the knife, its blade glinting in the light of the hurricane lamps. He grabbed Tannaz’s hand, forcing it open, then closed her fingers around the handle. He turned to face Luke, smiled hideously, then pushed his daughter towards him.
A stillness had descended over the cave. It was as if there were only the three of them there – Luke, Tannaz and her father – surrounded by a low murmur of voices. Zamani’s men were mouthing prayers. And above them, scowling down from his giant portrait, the face of the father of Revolutionary Iran: the late Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.
Chapter 99
Outside Namakdan Salt Caves, Qeshm Island
THE BODIES LAY still and prone on the dusty soil where they’d fallen. Two SBS operators hurried forward. A quick thumbs-up, and the rest of the patrol moved cautiously up to the cave entrance. Two more minutes, and they’d cleared the two vehicles and established that no further hostiles were lurking behind the rocks. Barkwell peeled back the grey Velcro covering on his watch: 0655 hours. Still time, just. Crouching, he turned to the team’s signaller.
‘Deploy the Black Hornet,’ he ordered.
Tash removed the grey-and-black nano-drone from its waterproof case, checked the charge, then launched it into the early-morning air. Out in the open, the whir of its motors was inaudible. Inside the caves they’d have to be more careful but the drone’s minute size and three hi-res infrared cameras made it perfect for the job at hand. Suddenly alert to the possibility of Iranian surveillance drones, Barkwell ordered his team into the mouth of the cave complex. There, he and the signaller hunched over the monitor, noting every twist and turn of the route ahead. Then, suddenly, he saw it.
‘Stop!’ he ordered. ‘Freeze it.’ He pointed. There was the silhouette of an armed figure.
‘Range?’
‘One zero eight metres,’ Tash replied. ‘But that’s to the Hornet. He’s another twenty metres plus beyond that.’
Barkwell didn’t hesitate. ‘Okay. Let’s move in and take him out.’
As the nano-drone was recalled and packed away, Barkwell and the assault team prepared to enter the Namakdan tunnel complex. The acoustics changed the moment they entered the strange subterranean world of dripping, saline stalactites. Every sound echoed and was magnified. Using their night-vision goggles, the SBS operators moved in file, navigating their way along the wet, salt-encrusted surface. Fifty metres in, Barkwell held up his hand and signalled his sniper forward. Up ahead a tiny red point of light moved and flared in the dark: someone was smoking. Smudge manoeuvred himself into a firing position. He’d already chambered a round in the CheyTac rifle and now he levelled the barrel down the tunnel. Once more the precision rifle coughed as the heavy bullet slammed into the sentry’s chest. The sound of him collapsing seemed to reverberate down the darkened tunnel. The team exchanged glances. Had that been heard deeper in the cave system? Had they been compromised? They waited for a few precious seconds. But they didn’t have time to find out. From the darkness came a cry of despair. A woman’s scream.
Chapter 100
Inside Namakdan Salt Caves
TANNAZ’S CRY HAD torn through Luke. Pulling against the plasticuffs that bound his hands together, he tried to shake off the men who held him. He was nearly out of time. The two individuals at the centre of this whole crisis – Geoffrey Chaplin and Karim Zamani – were practically within touching distance yet he was powerless to act. He had reached his objective, in this dank, depressing cave, but not in the way he had planned. Instead of deploying Tannaz, using her as a tactical weapon to separate and isolate her father, he had blundered into the spider’s web and dragged her with him. And this was the end of the line. Because what he was looking at now could have no good outcome.
Tannaz stood in front of him, her eyes glistening with tears. She was still beautiful in her distress. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her that it was all right, that it had been his fault, that somehow he could find a way out of this. But he could do none of those things. Luke Carlton was not in control. In her hand she held the blade her father had placed there. It had become obvious what was expected of her. The shawl had fallen from her head and her whole body trembled as Luke held her in his gaze.
‘I can’t …’ she sobbed. ‘I can’t do it.’
Her father shouted at her and again she shook her head. Luke’s mind was racing. Where the fuck was the rescue team? Why weren’t they here? He had to do something. These could be his last moments on Earth and he was damned if he’d go down without a fight. He’d take one of these bastards with him.
It was then that everything seemed to slow down. Luke looked on with a growing sense of shock and horror as Zamani, his face twisting into a snarl of rage, snatched the knife from Tannaz and, with his other hand, reached out and grabbed her hair. She screamed as he pulled her head back, brought his arm up and, in a single, shocking motion, sliced across his daughter’s exposed throat, severing her windpipe. For a second she clutched helplessly at the wound as the blood welled out from between her fingers. Her eyes looked imploringly at Luke. Her mouth opened once, as if she were trying to speak, but no words came out. And then beautiful, trusting, life-loving Tannaz Zamani slumped to the ground at his feet.
Chapter 101
Namakdan Salt Caves
THE ROAR THAT Luke heard at the moment of Tannaz’s death was one of sheer, animal fury. It came from him.
Tearing himself free of his captors and oblivious of the consequences, Luke hurled himself towards Zamani and, with all the strength he could summon, headbutted him right above the eyes. There was a sharp crack as the shorter man went down, out cold. Moving fast, Luke went to stamp on the unconscious Iranian’s neck but he was not quick enough. Guards grabbed him, hauling him back, and he felt the muzzle of a gun jab at his ribs. A large man with a scar down his cheek was screaming abuse into his face. Luke didn’t care. He was boiling with rage. On the ground, Tannaz, her limbs still spasming, bled out, a pool of crimson spreading, corrupting the pure white crystalline floor of the cave.
His mind still in turmoil, trying to make sense of the horror he’d just witnessed, Luke felt an enormous pair of hands reach around his neck and force him back against the cage. His head slammed against the bars and he suddenly remembered the British politician, who now cowered in a far corner of his hellhole of a prison.
Still bellowing into Luke’s face, so close that he felt the spittle land in his eye, Scarface had him pinned against the cage with one massive hand, while the other reached down to pull out the pistol he had tucked into his waistband. Luke desperately turned this way and that, trying to regain his balance, to get some leverage if only so he could knee the monster in the groin and buy himself a second or two more. He could feel the barrel of the gun grinding against his skull. The hand holding him trembled, its knuckles whitening with tension as the man worked himself up into a lather of fury. Christ, could this really be it? Was this the end? So much unfinished business to attend to, bridges that needed to be rebuilt – and he thought of Elise, her mother Helen, and even his own long-dead parents, the lifetimes of those few he had loved suddenly telescoping into a one-second blur of longing and regret.
When the shot came, the impact knocked Luke sideways, sending him reeling. He felt no pain, only a hot wetness that splashed across his face. Ears ringing, he shook his head and tried to stand. Of course! He’d been hit by the shockwave of a bullet – the bullet that had just taken off the back of Scarface’s skull. The SBS had arrived. Covered with blood, bone fragments and the soft pink slime of brain matter, Luke knew he needed to find cover. And fast.
‘Stay low!’ he yelled at Chaplin, as he hurled himself down. It was then that the firefight erupted all around him. The noise was deafening. Chaplin’s captors reacted with speed. They were well trained and well armed, and they returned fire but it was an uneven contest. The flash suppressors on the assault team’s C8s masked just how deadly they were. As the red dots of the laser sights found their targets, so the thirty-round magazines were emptied into Zamani’s men. Luke pressed himself to the ground as bullets ricocheted around him. Something fell beside him with a crash: a video camera on a tripod, its casing shattered by gunfire.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Ears ringing, his nostrils clogged with the stench of cordite, Luke could hear groaning. It was coming from the slumped figure inside the cage. Geoffrey Chaplin, British Foreign Secretary, who had already gone through three days of hell, clutched at his thigh with a bandaged hand.
‘Over here!’ Luke shouted. ‘Hostage is down!’ Still with his hands secured behind his back, he struggled to his feet as eight helmeted figures stormed into the cave. Cradling their weapons, they moved carefully among the bodies that now littered the cave floor.
‘Here!’ Luke called again, and one of the team rushed over to the cage. Drawing his sidearm from his leg holster, he shot out the padlock and pulled open the door. As he began to work on Chaplin’s wound with a pressure bandage, another trooper walked over to Luke and removed his helmet. ‘Chris Barkwell,’ he said. ‘I’m the team commander.’
‘Luke Carlton,’ he grunted. ‘And am I glad to see you guys!’ In spite of everything, Luke found himself grinning. He could only imagine what he must look like, covered with another man’s gore. ‘You cut that a bit fucking fine!’
Seeing the plasticuffs, Barkwell took out his diver’s knife and slit the ties. Luke winced as he felt the circulation return to his hands. ‘Now,’ the SBS officer said, ‘we need to get off this island fast. The Zodiacs are inbound and Astute is just offshore.’ He slapped Luke on the shoulder and turned to go before changing his mind.
‘Here,’ he said, and handed Luke a Sig Sauer pistol. ‘For your own protection,’ he added, ‘just in case.’ Luke nodded his thanks and watched as Barkwell went to speak to Chaplin. God, he felt tired. He wanted to get home, he needed to see Elise and try to make it back into her good books. But he wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
Chapter 102
Namakdan Salt Caves
LUKE CHOSE HIS moment carefully. Geoffrey Chaplin, a bloodstained bandage around his thigh and another round his mutilated hand, had been hoisted onto the back of one of Barkwell’s team, then carried to the cave entrance and the waiting rescue boats. As the last of the SBS troopers trudged out of the cavern, Luke surveyed the chaos and death they’d left behind. There would be consequences for what he was about to do now, but he would worry about those later. His jaw was set firm as he cocked the silenced pistol he’d been given and walked slowly to where Karim Zamani lay unconscious. There was a plastic bottle of water inside Chaplin’s prison that had somehow survived the firefight intact. He went to retrieve it. Standing over the prostrate figure, his legs on either side of him, Luke emptied the contents over the man’s face.
Zamani’s eyes widened as he came to with a start. He tried to sit, looking around him as he took in the devastation that signalled the failure of his plans. Did he take particular note of the body of his only daughter, drained and pale where she had bled out from the gaping wound he had inflicted? Luke had no idea, but he was going to remind him anyway.
‘D’you see her?’ he said, pointing at Tannaz’s corpse while keeping his weapon trained on Zamani. The man’s eyes flicked from his daughter to Luke and back again.
‘She,’ said Luke, his voice quivering with barely controlled anger, ‘was your daughter. So tell me, Karim Zamani, how could you do that to your own child?’
Zamani’s eyes narrowed and he spat at Luke’s feet.
‘Khaak bar saret! Snake venom!’ he cursed, his voice full of bile. They were to be his final words.
The Sig Sauer coughed once, leaving a single neat hole in the centre of Karim Zamani’s forehead.
‘That,’ Luke said, ‘is for Tannaz.’
Epilogue
‘YOU’VE HEARD THE news?’ He tried to calm himself, but he knew he must sound anxious and nervous.
‘I have.’ A pause, and the chink of a tea glass being replaced on its saucer. Beyond that, the faint roar of city traffic. ‘And may God curse every one of those sons of Satan.’ The words were spoken softly, but with venom.
‘We could do nothing, you know that? The English and their boats, they had gone by the time we got there.’
‘We know, Ali-jaan, we know.’
‘And the Circle?’
‘What of the Circle? It is no more. It never existed.’ Another pause. ‘Do you understand?’
He hesitated for a moment before answering. ‘Of course. But …’
‘But what?’
‘But the tunnel. The project. What now?’
‘Ah, the tunnel …’ Again, the pause and the sound of breath being blown over a scalding glass of tea. ‘The tunnel has been sealed. You should not concern yourself with that now.’
‘You mean it’s over? Ended? Everything?’ He couldn’t help the rising note of despair in his own voice.
‘It is never over,’ came the reply. The tone was soothing, calm and supremely confident. ‘What secrets the tunnel holds will remain hidden until the right time comes. And that time will come, I promise. Remember, Ali-jaan, sabr talkh ast, valikan bar-e shireen da-rad. Patience is bitter, but it has a sweet fruit.’
Glossary and names
Al-Wahibi, Mazin – Omani shepherd boy in the Wahiba Sands
Askari, Dr Erfan – Iranian Foreign Minister
Bandar Abbas – major Iranian port on the Gulf coast
Barkwell, Captain Chris – SBS assault team Commander
Batstone, Nigel – Director, Middle East and North Africa, FCO
Bennett, Sir Charles – UK National Security Adviser
