OUTSIDE BROWNS HOTEL
BOND STREET
Inside the armoured, pearl-gray Audi A8, Ronan retrieved his radio headset and responded to the incessant beeping alarm.
"Iron Hammer." He held up a hand to silence Sir William as he entered the sedan.
"Validation code required, Iron Hammer," the controller's voice demanded via the digital, encrypted network.
"Dialing Delta Four Echo seven Tango nine Shift slash," Ronan instructed as he matched his words with actions on the built in keyboard on his arm controls.
A brief pause before the controller returned. "Validation completed. Iron Hammer, we have three validated contacts for you. Please acknowledge transmission received."
Ronan focused on the digital display on the dash board. "Transmission received."
"The information is not stored in flash memory, sir. Please indicate when you are completed, so that we can expunge the transmission logs."
"Acknowledged."
"What is it?" Sir William queried as he attempted to peer at the display over Ronan's shoulder.
"Surveillance reports on your key suspects. Lady Catherine is meeting with two executives from BAE, Mark Jacobsen is carefully threading his way to the heliport and our friends at MI-6 seem to be meeting with ... Now that's strange."
"What's strange?" Sir William attempted to turn the display.
"Stop that! It's designed to ensure that the passenger can't see the display. They're meeting with several Chinese counterparts. Do you know something about that, William?"
"Not really, but I understand their logic. We need to have them and the Russians engaged if we're going to solve this mess." Sir William sat back and peered out at the gray February sky. "Make sure your people don't lose Mark. I want to know every communication he sends."
WEST OF QUETTA
"Pay attention, Miss." Primo pointed to a position half a kilometer from their position. "The Taliban fighter is a man who uses the entire environment to his advantage. He knows instinctively how to use this terrain while our soldiers depend on firepower and technology. Here." He passed Alexandra his binoculars. "That is the last NATO patrol that will enter this area. For the next twenty-four hours, there'll be no more unless I call in a strike force. Now watch the houses and compounds in the distance. And listen."
Alexandra studied the terrain in front of the NATO vehicles as the approached a small cluster of compounds. "What am I looking for?"
"Tell me what you see, Miss."
"Smoke from chimneys in two of the houses. Young shepherd boys. Wait." She adjusted the binoculars. "Some pigeons or doves. I'm not sure."
Primo tapped her shoulders and retrieved his binoculars. After two quick sweeps, he handed them back. "Look at those head-sized openings in the wall of the left house. The house that looks like it's abandoned."
"There's someone in there. There's a rifle. He's shooting." Alexandra continued to observe the house. "He's shooting and moving to another of those holes."
The chatter of a .50 caliber machine gun began in the distance. "The NATO forces are shooting!"
"Easy, Miss. Pay attention to the other houses. Forget the fight."
"More smoke. More pigeons?" She adjusted the binoculars. "This time the smoke is in white puffs. Bigger. Did they get hit?"
"Watch while the NATO forces withdraw." Primo smiled as he observed her reactions.
"Different smoke. Dark Grey. Black. There's a kite flying. I don't believe it. Who would fly a kite when they're being fired on?" She turned to face Primo. "They're communicating, aren't they?"
"Welcome to Afghanistan, Miss. This isn't Iraq or any other war we've fought in a long time. And technology and firepower isn't going to win." He retrieved his binoculars. "It takes us sometimes a week to understand the fighting patterns in each area. We'll never find the kite flyer. And the smoke? Everyone is going to claim they were just cooking."
"Is that what you Pathfinders do in Afghanistan?" Alexandra changed position to watch the NATO column withdrawing. "You wanted that village to do that, didn't you?"
The CSM nodded. "The problem is that our enemy does this instinctively. They have no training manuals and they are always innovating using the simplest of methods. Whistles, birds, smoke, kites, stick patterns on a trail, you name it... they use it. It takes two or three simulated attacks to study their methods and discern any patterns. That man in the murder hole – the hole in the house – was trying to elicit a response from the patrol. He wanted them to approach so that his spotter could learn the potential approaches that would be used by this unit."
"Why?"
"Within twenty-four hours, that patrol's approach will have at least six IEDs planted tonight. Our troops are trained in repetitive measures. They don't free lance. That's not in the training manual. We now know that path is clear for you and the Colonel to Sangar, but don't use it after today. If you must come back this way, stay ten meters from the path that patrol last used."
Alexandra moved carefully over the cracked almond shells to join Primo below the tree. On tiptoes, she gently kissed the surprised Sarn't Major. "Thank you for teaching me and thank you for looking after him."
**
Ten minutes later, Lt. Colonel Christopher Nobriega observed Inspector Alexandra Russell enthusiastically enrobing herself in a bright blue chadri.
"Ready, lad? Did the camel thieves bring you up to snuff on their latest reconnaissance? See the path the Grenadiers laid down for you?" RSM Primo joined his former student beside the motorcycle. "We'll take care of that group of bandits if they begin approaching the village. If you hear us engaging, run like a bat out of hell. Use our MP5 fire to guide you. Standard firing patterns. We will act as a moving block force. One green flare, you've leapfrogged us so continue moving south to this position. Red Flare means south and then east. We'll move them west and call in NATO strikes. You head for Quetta or this site. Get Sangar and the women on the plane and make sure Laurent's has a clear run south. We'll come get you if you maintain a rearguard action for him to take off."
"Understood. I'll move to the west and then south. Mustapha and I have agreed to three rendezvous points. Worse case, I'll bolt for Quetta. What did you say to her that's got her so cheerful?" Christopher nodded towards Alexandra as she adjusted her voluminous robes.
"I told her the mission's parameters, gave her some of the basics. She's a fast learner, lad. She knows what's required of her. Nothing else."
Christopher glanced away as Alexandra turned to face the two men. "And she didn't object?"
"No. She was actually very cheerful about everything. Didn't even object to the fact she may have to leave you behind." Primo turned to his right to hide the grin that was emerging on his craggy face.
"I thought she wouldn't mind that. She seems to always have a problem with me. Whatever happens, make sure she gets back to London safely. She's a nice lady." Christopher bent over to tighten the bedrolls on the back of the motorcycle.
"You think so, lad?" Primo arched one of his eyebrows. "I mean the nice lady bit and her not liking you. You should pay more attention to her. Women like that."
"Don't you start one of your bloody life lessons." Christopher mounted the cycle and wheeled it slowly to Alexandra. "Ready, Inspector?"
"Yes, my Lord and Master," Alexandra responded in dulcet tones that caused Christopher to brake the bike suddenly with both heels. "I am ready to serve and pleasure you."
**
Ten feet away, Primo and Mustapha exchanged knowing glances as the camel thief whispered from the side of his mouth. "This is the part in the American movies where I, the Muslim camel thief, suggests he beat her with his belt, isn't it?"
"Aye. Ever try that with Farhana?" Primo mumbled and then chuckled. "Your darling wife would take those bloody pots she prizes so much to both you and me. And we would have to surrender, if we had any sense left in us after she had applied her punishment or we'd have some very sore body parts."
**
The sudden explosion of Primo's and Mustapha's laughter caused both Christopher and Alexandra to swivel and examine both NCOs suspiciously.
**
Both men immediately straightened up and nodded sagely to the duo in an effort to maintain the dignity required of senior Warrant Officers.
**
"What do you think those two were laughing at?" Alexandra asked as he started the motorcycle and slowly wheeled to a gap in the foliage.
"Us."
The motorcycle exploded out of the foliage and headed for the side of one of the tracks. Instinctively, Alexandra moved forward and gripped his torso in a vice-like grip.
"Why?" she shouted into the rushing wind.
"They think I don't know how to handle you!"
"And do you?"
Her only response was the roar of the machine as Christopher maintained a diplomatic silence as he concentrated on the tracks ahead of him.