Beirut - An Explosive Thriller (35 page)

‘
Did you hear
that?’

The big man
shook his head. ‘Hear what?’

‘
Choppers.’

‘
How many
times? Relax. There should be choppers up there. And spotter
planes. And patrol boats on the sea. These guys are going all out
to help us here and we haven’t even been truthful with them. At
least you told us what we were up against back in
Malta.’

‘
Yeah, well.
I got double warned off letting anyone here know about our two
little problems.’

Lentini was
sour. ‘Not my call, anyway, is it? Come on.’

They passed
the airbase to their right, another two military cars joining them
as they raced through the city’s suburbs, the front car flashing
blue lights to push the sparse traffic out of the way.

A signpost to
their left proclaimed ‘La Petrolifera Italo Libanese’. Lynch
glanced at the army driver. ‘Here?’

The driver
pointed ahead of them. ‘No. Not here. This way.’

The driver
switched on the headlights as the darkness thickened, the trees
shadowed. The woodland cleared ahead of them, blue and red lights
flashing against the tall trees at the periphery of the clearing.
Floodlights had been set up. The roadblock was lifted as they
slowed to approach. They drove into the floodlit area, the military
transporter lorry standing at the centre of the lamps in the
clearing, almost in daylight.

‘
Those are
NATO insignia,’ said Lentini.

‘
Figures,’
said Lynch. ‘Explains how they sailed through all those border
posts, doesn’t it? Christ, but Meier’s got balls, all
right.’

They pulled
up, the wheels crunching on gravel. Lynch joined Lentini at the
front of the car, the driver by their side. The evening had cooled,
and Lynch turned away from the buffeting cold of the strong breeze.
The military transporter carried a single container, which was
being opened as they approached it. Lieutenant Colonel Anton
Meshkallah walked up to them, his face a picture of joy and pride.
He gestured at the clearing, military trucks and cars joined by
police cars, a collection of at least twenty vehicles, tape
fluttering at the periphery and floodlights set up to pick out the
transporter.

‘
You see? We
have your contraband under control perfectly!’

Lynch scanned
the huge display of activity, his face a picture of incredulity. He
focused back on Meshkallah’s beaming face, glowing with
perspiration under the floodlights.

‘
The fuck you
do,’ he said, striding towards the container.

The big doors
were open as soldiers unloaded it using a lifting platform, pulling
crates out and stacking them. A light drizzle had started to fall.
The canvas covering the lorries glistened under the
floodlight.

‘
Look here,’
said Meshkallah, pointing with his little silver-ferruled swagger
stick. ‘These are 122mm missiles designed for the Soviet RM70
launcher. Here there are Trnovnik missiles. According to our
experts, they are equipped with cluster bomb warheads.’ He jabbed
the stick at another stack of crates. ‘9M22 Grad warheads. HE
fragmentation. These are very dangerous weapons, you
understand?’

‘
Very,’ said
Lynch. ‘But they’re not what we’re looking for.’

Meshkallah
peered at him from under his peaked cap, his brown eyes lively and
his face suffused with excitement. ‘Not what you are looking for?
How is this? We were given alert for illegal shipment of arms
coming from Czech Republic and here they are. They are shipped
using NATO lorry and with NATO paperwork that authorise this
shipment. Even they have two motorcycle riders for this lorry.
Everything was in order. This is why it reach this far. But we are
better than these bad men.’ He grinned. ‘We catch them,
no?’

Lynch scanned
the floodlit clearing. ‘Where is the driver?’

Lentini took
a call on his mobile, walking away from them and cupping a hand
over his ear as he talked urgently.

Meshkallah’s
face was a picture of deep regret, his hands thrown out in
sympathetic despair. ‘He get away. Still my men they are hunting
him in the forest. You understand it is difficult in this darkness.
We do not yet have the equipment the Americans promised to us, the
night vision and the helicopters.’

Lentini
piped, ‘And the outriders?’

‘
Ah, yes,’
Meshkallah gestured up the road with his swagger stick. ‘Tragical
they are too fast.’

‘
Excuse me one second,’ Lynch nodded to Meshkallah and joined
Lentini a few paces away. Lentini signalled to Lynch to wait. After
a few seconds listening and a terse ‘
Grazzi,
’ he cut the line, his face
grim.

Lynch hissed,
‘Gabe, this guy’s fucking us around.’

Lentini
nodded. ‘That was my liaison officer. He checked with the
Macedonians. They let three trucks through in total. We’re missing
two trucks.’

‘
So we check
out the Petrolifera facility? It’s the most likely of the two
places they could offload the warheads.’

Engines
started up behind them as they broke into a run, Meshkallah
shouting protest. Lynch clambered into the driver’s seat of the
Land Cruiser, momentum slamming the door as he rammed the big car
into drive and floored the accelerator, wrenching the steering
wheel to turn the vehicle back the way they had come. Scattering
gravel behind them, they swerved onto the road back to the
Petrolifera facility.

The light
drizzle had turned into steady rain, forming big puddles. Lynch,
peering into the darkness, spotted the turning too late and jerked
the wheel, sending them sliding into the turning off to an area of
industrial units interspersed with scrubby open spaces. He grappled
with the wheel and regained control. The patchy sodium lighting
cast a rusty glow over the unkempt buildings. Barbed wire fencing
surrounded many of them. Others were protected by high walls. The
rising wind sent a cardboard box rolling down the
street.

Lentini
leaned forwards. ‘Lynch, do you know where you’re
going?’

‘
I took a look at the satellite images of Petrolifera’s
facility back at the hotel. They’ve got an area of deep water
wharfage. If they were going to embark the warheads onto a boat as
big as the
Princess,
it would make sense to do it from here.’

They broke
into a large open area with brighter perimeter lighting, the dark
mass of the sea stretched in front of them. The moonlight glittered
on the waves, picking out the vague silhouettes of two loading
cranes on the wharf.

Lynch slammed
on the brakes and the big car slewed to a halt. He sat with his
arms crossed on the wheel, squinting at the stark shapes of the
cranes, the rubbish strewn on the ground and the weeds pushing up
through the cracks in the concrete. The fat raindrops beat a steady
tattoo on the roof of the car.

Lynch got out
of the car and peered into the shadows.

Lentini
joined him. ‘Nothing.’

‘
Hang on,’
said Lynch. ‘Listen.’

Lentini
tipped his head to one side, straining to hear against the drumming
of the rain. His face relaxed as he recognised the sound.
‘Choppers. Heavy ones.’

‘
Over there.’
Lynch pointed to the lights rising from beyond the industrial
units. ‘They’re taking off from the airbase.’

Lentini
reached into the car, pulling open his dark holdall and grabbing a
pair of binoculars. He adjusted them and whistled, handing them to
Lynch. ‘Here. Night vision.’

Lynch picked
out the shapes of the two big helicopters, each harnessed to a
container, lumbering seaward from the direction of the airbase.
‘Where the fuck are they going?’

Lentini
shouted above the noise of the rain and the increasing din of the
rotors. ‘They’re almost going to pass overhead of us. They must be
headed for Sazan.’

‘
Sazan?’

‘
It’s a big
Albanian military base, an island a few klicks out to sea from
here. The one I said I overflew.’

Lynch’s face
was screwed up in frustration. ‘What the hell can we do to stop
them?’

‘
Nothing.
I’ve only got handguns. We’d need SAMs to bring those bastards
down.’

‘
The
navy?’

Lentini’s
frustration mirrored Lynch’s. ‘Meshkallah was in charge of liaison.
I don’t have any other contact here.’

Lynch got
back into the Land Cruiser. Lentini opened the back door as the
lights from behind picked out the Land Cruiser in their glare. The
reflection in the rearview mirror blinded Lynch, an army lorry and
two staff cars, a bullhorn barking at them, Meshkallah’s voice
rendered oddly mechanical. ‘Stop now. Do not move.’

Lynch swore,
turning to Lentini who still stood outside the car. ‘What do we
do?’

‘
Nothing.
Don’t move.’

Troops
disembarked from the lorry, taking up kneeling positions.
Meshkallah leaned behind the open door of the staff car, cracking
out orders on his bullhorn. ‘Move away from the vehicle now and
nobody will get hurt.’

‘
Fuck me,’
Lentini spat. ‘This clown thinks he’s in a movie.’

Jesus, but
it’s like listening to Mickey Mouse swearing.
The incongruous thought hit Lynch, bringing a cold grin to
his face. The rain was falling in sheets, the noise of its
spattering modulated by the gusts of wind masking the dying sound
of rotors in the sky. Lentini stretched for his holdall.

‘
Gerald,
listen to me. Meshkallah’s bent. You have to get word out and have
those containers followed. When I say go, hit the accelerator and
get out of here. You hear me?’

Lynch shook
his head. ‘I can’t leave you behind.’

‘
We don’t
have time to argue. This is what I do, it’s not what you do. Go and
get hold of your people. I’ll catch up with you.’

‘
You can’t
take out eight soldiers with machine guns.’

Lynch caught
the glint of two big semi-automatic pistols as Lentini snapped off
the safeties, a wolfish grin on the big man’s face. ‘You got a
million pounds to bet me?’

Lynch was
silent. Lentini’s grin widened. ‘Thought not.’

Lentini spun
away, the deafening guns bucked in his big hands. Muzzle flashes
strobed across the Land Cruiser’s interior.

Lentini
screamed ‘Go! Go! Go!’

He launched
himself away from the car. The rear window hazed as the soldiers
returned fire. The noise of its implosion and the cacophony of
gunfire forced Lynch’s foot to the throttle and the car jerked
forward, the huge engine roaring. Bullets hit the front wheel arch,
a series of tinny plunks. Muzzle flashes lit up the night air.
Lentini rolled on the ground and soldiers threw up their arms,
diving aside for cover. The big car jinked along the wharf, a
bullet smashed the side window. Lynch lifted his hand against the
shards of glass flying into the car. The wheel flew from his grip
as the front tyre blew out. The rubber slapped the wheel arch and
sloughed off. The Land Cruiser spun on the slick concrete with
sickening momentum.

The door
vibrated against his leg with bullet impacts. The warehouse wall
loomed, and Lynch threw up a hand to cushion himself against the
shock, the airbag smeared with red in front of his face as the
crash sucked the air from his lungs and slammed his limp body back
against the seat.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The whiteness
of sunlight on clean linen hurt his eyes as he tried to open them,
the lids glued together and his mouth parched. His head throbbed.
He tried to move, but the effort too much for his bruised
body.

Lynch tried
to speak, but could only croak, the consequent cough driving a bolt
of pain into his chest and side. He relaxed, letting his breathing
and heart slow again. He sniffed, antiseptic and a hint of
something else, possibly scent.

He took
another, slower, breath. It came back to him.

The trolley
crashed to the floor. Lynch lashed out, his own pain forgotten as
he struggled to raise himself, flailing against the tubes and his
own weakness. An alarm sounded; raised voices and footsteps echoed
down the corridor. By the time the first nurse arrived, his shouts
had died to whispers and he plunged back into
unconsciousness.

Later, he
woke again, a better awakening with the memory of a conversation
with Leila falling away from him despite his efforts to recall
every little detail of the dream. She had been standing by the
railings overlooking Raouché’s rocks, posing for a photograph with
the famous landmark behind her, shielding her eyes from the sun and
laughing at Lynch trying to take a picture and simultaneously fend
off the various hawkers and urchins gathering around the
khawaja
, the gentleman.
She took his arm and they wandered down the corniche towards
Manara, Leila teasing Lynch as she held on to him.

‘
So you spy
on me too, Lynch? Are you keeping a watch on the
activists?’