12 ST. CHARLES STREET
LONDON
"Where is he?" Mark Jacobsen's voice invaded the library, but failed to rouse a slumbering Sir William.
"I'm sorry ..." Edmond moved to stop Mark Jacobsen's entry into the library.
"Out of my way!" The young former Foreign Services Officer elbowed the butler from his path.
"Let him in, Edmond." Ronan gestured for the young Foreign Officer to enter. He strode over to the somnolent Sir William. "William, Mark Jacobsen is here."
"Wha... What?" Sir William pushed himself out of his slumped position gingerly. "Come in, young Mark."
"Where are they? Where do you have Marie and Meghan? Why have you kidnapped them? You don't know what you've done!"
The elderly barrister launched himself from his chair causing the younger man to abruptly end his tirade. "And your son? You didn't mention him, why not?"
"What are you talking about? He's in ..." Mark Jacobsen stopped as Sir William gestured to the display on his desk. "What?"
"He's also safe, Mark. I had him taken into protective custody at the same time."
"But..."
"Stop and listen to me carefully. I knew that there was something amiss when you responded to our discussions in the steam room by visiting Thames House. I had suspected that you were operating under duress. So I made a few calls and discovered that your son had a non-government protective detail." The barrister limped to his desk. "How am I doing so far?"
The young Foreign Officer slumped into an armchair. "You have my children and wife in a safe place? Are you sure?" He held his head in his hands. "When can I see them?"
"Soon, but you and I need to have a serious discussion. There are some lines cannot be crossed with impunity, lad. And you've tripped quite a few tripwires."
The younger man slowly lifted his head. "What do you mean?"
"You'll see in a few minutes, if I'm right. Have a drink. You're going to need it."
WEST OF QUETTA
"Roll!"
"Rolled!" Alexandra confirmed as she rolled another smoke grenade behind the careening motorcycle. "You're heading straight into the Taliban nest!"
"Four, three, two, one!" Christopher muttered under his breath. "Now!" He put the motorcycle into a controlled skid.
Alexandra clutched his waist and balanced precariously on the pillion.
"I'm heading back into those shrubs. One hundred meters in, we're going to ground." He accelerated through the green smoke.
Alexandra recoiled as she felt the shrubs slapping against her shins.
"Stand by!"
Alexandra clutched tighter as she felt the back wheel slide from under her.
"Off!" Christopher braked sharply in the dense undergrowth and turned the engine off. "Stay down!" He glanced up as the backwash of the helicopter threatened to disperse their smoke screen. "He's going to try to blow the smoke away. This lad has balls!"
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The strange noises were followed by explosions.
"RPGs," Christopher announced as he aimed his assault rifle to the northeast. "Cover from three to six o'clock. I have the ten to three quadrant."
YOU ARE READING
The Shaddad Conspiracy
Adventure“Your murder victim was not an innocent, naive woman. She was on our terrorist watch list. The fact that she escaped from Basra and lived a normal life in London buggers belief, but she was planted here by a foreign government to wreck the Taliban p...
