The Shaddad Conspiracy

Chapter 31: Plumbing the Soul

THE CREVICE WEST OF QUETTA

"Are you going to answer my question? Why are we extracting our only chance at a negotiated peace?" Alexandra demanded.

"It's going to be Sangar's decision to make—not mine and not yours or Lady Catherine's." He paused. "I'm not going to leave him to hang out to dry because he's our only hope!" He removed the MP5's sling from his neck.

"Aren't you worried that I might shoot you?" Alexandra smiled as she watched him place the machine pistol on a clean cloth.

"Inspector, you're a trained firearms expert. If you were going to shoot me, you would have taken the safety off that pistol." He ejected the magazine.

Alexandra replicated his action. "I assume paratroopers clean their weapons before action, am I correct? Or as you saying I shouldn't clean mine?"

"Why did you communicate with London without telling me?" He ejected the bullets from the magazine as he studied her facial expression.

"What makes you think I communicated with anyone while we were in Quetta?"

"Mustapha relayed Sir William's reply a few minutes ago. He advised me that you were providing Lady Catherine back channel reports. Didn't you think that my message of 'black Prometheus 3350' would suffice?"

"That's up to Lady Catherine, Sir William and the Commander to decide, isn't it? My orders were to report to Lady Catherine as the Mission Commander." She unloaded her clip, inspected each round and carefully began reloading. "One, two, three..."

"...did you report to her that I might advise the XII Corps to seize that base?" He smiled as he watched her count each ejected round. "You must have had a Paratrooper as a firearms instructor. Very good."

"Thank you, kind sir. So you thought I was your mole because I was communicating with Lady Catherine. Is that it?" Alexandra removed the pistol's slide. "Or was that your frustration coming to the forefront?"

"All the cards on the table, Inspector." He removed the recoil spring of his weapon and inspected it. "I don't think you're the mole, but I'm not sure what your role on this mission is. I'm concerned that Lady Catherine may have given you orders that could jeopardize what I'm about to do." He continued stripping his weapon. "For all I know, she could be the mole."

"You're accusing a leading MP of treason, do you realize that?" She stopped her reloading to study his face. "Is this some new personality trait of yours that you've managed to sublimate until now? Paranoia, I mean?"

"Do you know who Lady Catherine's late husband was? He was the Chairman of the Board of the largest European arms manufacturer. She stands to make a pretty penny from any ongoing conflict." The whirling sound of a brush being twirled to clean the gun's barrel punctuated his response. "At this moment in time, there can only be four candidates for the mole's role – you, Lady Catherine, Sir William or Ronan. If I eliminate Sir William and Ronan, that leaves you and Lady Catherine, doesn't it?"

"Clever boy. Rarrrrh!" Alexandra stopped to make a purring sound. "Are you taking your frustration out by repeatedly cleaning that barrel?"

"Yes!" He inserted the cleaning brush into the barrel and repeated his action. "You wanted to know what gave me the right to abort this mission. I'll tell you."

"Please do."

"Sangar doesn't get any medals or benefits from this mission. He's a decent man who sees it has his duty. If you passed him on the streets of London or New York, you'd try to cross the street because he looks like a Paki. You'd automatically assume he's some useless immigrant who doesn't belong, despite the fact you yourself are half-Lebanese." He selected a brush from the cleaning kit. "Yet he is nobler than most soldiers and politicians that I have ever met. He's doing this because it is right!"