12 CHARLES STREET
MAYFAIR
LONDON
JANUARY 14, 2012
2025 HOURS LONDON TIME
"Thank you, Edmond. Please tell Cook that was a wonderful duck." Lady Catherine glanced at her watch. "Where do you think he is now, William?"
"He's doing everything he can to shake off any followers. My guess is he headed either into the Bekka Valley or Turkey. Depends on how much time he wants to take." Sir William stood up and stretched before moving to the sideboard for the cheese tray. "Cheese or fruit, Catherine?
"Fruit, please. Where is Ronan?"
"He's performing some skullduggery in that lab of his with his technicians. He's trying to trawl up any additional information on this plot."
Catherine stopped peeling a Mandarin Orange. "How could Nobriega possibly make it through the Bekka Valley? Isn't it teeming with Hezbollah, Syrians and Israeli agents?"
A grin enveloped the elderly barrister's face. "I've noticed that when you are pleased with him, it's Christopher. When you're annoyed, it's Nobriega. Why are you annoyed with him?"
"Because he's not keeping us in the loop!" Her explosion caused Kitten to sit up from his slumber. The massive dog moved to sit beside her in a comforting gesture.
"Catherine, he's a Pathfinder. He's going to thread himself through the most dangerous territory to ensure that no one is following him. They won't dare follow him. And if they do so using a drone, we know it's the Americans or Israelis who are sabotaging our efforts." He paused to sample an Irish Cheddar with Guinness cheese. He delicately sliced four slivers. "You never see or hear a Pathfinder. They're like bloody ghosts. They were in Afghanistan before a single NATO boot landed despite all the asinine media reports. Pathfinders don't call back home unless they have important information. That's how we got Bagram Airbase in the first place. Pathfinders and the Special Boat lads took it. None of that American crap about the CIA and their people that the American media fed their subscribers – the CIA and their minions arrived three days later - using the airstrip we captured." The old barrister chortled as he offered Kitten a slice of cheese. "You don't suppose he could get drunk from the Guinness, do you?
"Stop feeding that dog the junk you feed yourself, William! When will Christopher call?" Catherine delicately separated the orange with well manicured fingers.
"Now it's Christopher and not Nobriega. He will contact us when he arrives at the Jordanian base that he will use as his launching point." Sir William scribbled a note on an index card.
"Other than infuriating me, what are you doing?"
"I am making notes on how to catch some rats in London and Washington, my dear. We have to find out who is behind this scheme before Christopher gets into the danger zone. Would you care to help?"
FOUR HOURS LATER
UNFIL LANDING STRIP
KHIAM, LEBANON
"Merci, Laurent." Christopher clapped the French soldier on the shoulder and returned to the main cabin of the aircraft.
On one knee, he hugged each of the girls as he instructed Primo. "You have enough cash to get them to my grandfather. Don't use a credit card ..."
"I know the drill, lad. I taught you everything you know." A large grin emerged on the Sergeant Major's face. "She really slugged you, didn't she?"
KAMU SEDANG MEMBACA
The Shaddad Conspiracy
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