The Shaddad Conspiracy

Chapter 43: End Game

12 ST. CHARLES STREET

LONDON

Ronan read the note Sir William had slipped to him out of the webcam's line of sight. "Did you get the message to the Iranians?" He nodded as he spoke in a normal tone without glancing at the flashing green light of the webcam on his console. "We're alone, William. What do you want?"

With a wan smile for the benefit of their web audience, Sir William began the interrogation of his childhood friend with the skill of a gifted thespian. "How did you recruit Edmond?"

"I didn't, William. You did. Think about it. You failed him and his people. All I had to do was appeal to his sympathies. I promised him that I would get his family a visa out of that hellhole." Ronan glanced at his laptop and the topographical information being relayed from an operational center in Kandahar.

"And the Iranians?"

"We've betrayed them too many times, William. They approached me because of Leila..."

The barrister continued his play acting as he gestured to the intercom that connected them to the kitchen. "I understand, but I didn't know, Ronan. Hers was just an ITG file that came across my desk for approval. You know we had to ensure that the Iranians didn't win the war with Saddam, despite his unsavory acts. The whole bloody region would have been ruptured by several Islamic revolutions!"

Ronan walked to the fireplace before responding. "We've never discussed it, you and I. We've always avoided it, but we knew it was under the surface. Tell me, William, why was it necessary to turn her over to Saddam and his henchmen? She was just a young woman with no political affiliations."

Sir William examined the face of his old friend trying to delineate the line between reality and playacting in his expression and nervous tick. "But we didn't know that until after MI-6 informed my committee after she had been tortured. All I had was a file and a demand from the Iraqis. They claimed that she had important intelligence on the activities of the Marsh Arabs. If you want the bloody truth, there's no one to blame, but me, Ronan."

"You're my one true friend, aren't you, Kitten?" The Commander rubbed the ears of the large Newfoundland leaning against him. "There's one more person, William. Someone gave you that order to turn Leila over to the Iraqis. Someone fed you her file and told the Iraqis that you were the signature officer. And that someone is still in the game, except this time the stakes are much bigger. I suppose you know that my Iranian contact is Leila's brother."

Sir William nodded. "I only found out recently. Is that the person you designated as Aries?"

Ronan knelt and took Kitten's massive head into his hands. He massaged the gentle dog's jowls. "Yes. Aries knew I had loved his sister. He knew I had been trying to protect her, but that doesn't help you determine the identity of your other mole, does it?" Ronan gestured at his laptop. "Look at the information from Colchester. They've called off the extraction. Our team has been sold down the river." He stared at the screen as a cryptic message flashed across the screen. "Your mole is at work, William. Nobriega and the Inspector are in the deep end without any hope. Just like Leila."

AFGHANISTAN

Christopher grunted as he felt the slashing of the first 7.62 mm round searing across his right thigh muscle. He flinched and squeezed a two-round burst at the Elder's doorway.

Brahm! Brahm!

"Stupid, Christopher. Now they know your position. They're going to come at you from that hole you made in the wall."

Rolling onto his back, he pushed with his left leg until he backed into the wall. He heaved himself up into a standing position and listened.

"Time to go, Christopher. The buggers are going to assault in force." He twisted the rifle's sling onto his left forearm and aimed into the square in the classic assault posture.