Dreams to Die For (51 page)

“I hope so. He and his friends seem to have been through a lot already that we know of, and probably a lot more that we don't know. They must be shaken at the very least. The woman with him, Cindy Crossland is very level-headed and the profile we have of her suggests she is not someone to take unnecessary risks.”

“The ATU know of her then?” Curry was intrigued.

“Another time for the detail. But yes, I have been on what has turned out to be this case for a long while, and we have quite a lot of knowledge on her and her ex-husband. I think I recall him having a driver named Donaldson,” he paused, and absent-mindedly stroked his chin, “strange coincidence. Anyhow, let's focus on the kidnapping.”

The loud speaker momentarily crackled and then a clear voice spoke, “This is Sky 1. Are you receiving?”

“Yes, Sky 1 go ahead.”

“The cloud cover over the mountains is making it impossible for us to see anything clearly, even with the high intensity and thermal imaging cameras. The mountains are nearly 4,000 feet high and in these conditions it is too dangerous to fly between them, but you ordered us to stay at least at 3,000 feet due to the danger of potential incoming rifle fire. Do you have any fresh information?”

“Sky 1. Maintain your patrol along the A87 and immediate vicinity. Suspects are confirmed as travelling in a 4x4 across the mountains on an uncharted track. We do not know where they are headed, but presume the A87. They have to come off the mountain soon.”

Mattar was making excellent progress, his skill evident to all his passengers including Assiter. The ground became less rocky as he descended towards the coast enabling him to increase speed. Fadyar was studying her mobile, waiting for the signal bars to appear and was slightly startled when the blue display lit up. She wasted no time in making the call to the same number she had dialled from the public telephone box earlier. It was answered immediately. Fadyar spoke clearly and precisely.

“We will rendezvous at about 5:10pm at location 1.” She disconnected the call once the receiver had acknowledged her message.

“We are on our way. All is well, my brothers!” she exclaimed. Her three compatriots smiled and cheered. Assiter said nothing.

Mattar left the mountain two miles south of Arnisdale and turned right onto the small coastal road, engaged two-wheel drive and the high axle ratio and accelerated towards Glenelg, leaving trails of fresh mud on the newly washed tarmac. He was headed for the parked camper van which had been specially adapted internally to conceal Assiter. So far the American had not been a problem, but Fadyar carried a syringe that she could administer if it was necessary to sedate him. As the Land Rover picked up speed, Fadyar allowed herself the luxury of looking across the Sound of Sleat to the mist covered Isle of Skye. As she gazed over the water, an extremely large bird swept low over the water, its fierce talons spread wide. Suddenly it dropped downwards and its feet momentarily entered the water causing a slight splash. When the bird rose into the air a glistening, writhing, silver fish was clamped tight in its grasp and it flew off at tremendous speed.

Assiter saw it too and said to Fadyar, “Impressive isn't it?”

“Yes what a wonderful sight. Do you know what it is?” she inquired.

Assiter was not an ornithologist but he certainly recognised the bird of prey.

“That's a white-tailed sea eagle. I believe it to be the UK's largest bird but we in the States have one or two slightly larger.”

“There's a surprise!” Fadyar quipped, and they both shared a brief moment free of tension and a common appreciation of what the natural world had just displayed to them. It was Bagheri that spoke next and he shattered the calmer ambience.

“I can't see that helicopter we heard earlier, but the weather is clearer here on the coast. I suggest we all keep a good look out. We can easily be spotted now.”

It was true. The group were now at their most vulnerable. They had lost the protection of the mountains and, more importantly, the cover of the cloudy conditions. They were on an open road that would be easy to seal off leaving them trapped. It was the highest risk element that Fadyar had identified when planning and refining her mission. The next forty-five minutes would be critical.

As Mattar joined the road Gordon was at the helm of his cabin cruiser also travelling towards Glenelg, and only fifteen minutes behind the fleeing assassins. He was thinking hard and asked Cindy to take over the wheel. He pressed a few numbers into his phone and waited a minute until it was answered.

“Is that you Kathleen? It's Gordon.”

“Aye. How are you Gordon? I expect you will be wanting to speak with young Sandy here?”

“Indeed, thank you Kathleen. It's a bit urgent I‘m afraid, but we'll speak later.”

Sandy MacLean took over the phone. Gordon very briefly outlined the terrible situation that had befallen Assiter and explained that he, Cindy and Paulette were approaching Glenelg in the
Greek Dancer
. It was a couple of minutes of rapid exchanges before Sandy, sitting in the chair at his Sister in Law's small lounge, fully appreciated what was being said to him.

“Sandy, have you seen anyone go by at speed in a 4x4? Is anything unusual going on? There's no sign of anyone in Corran at the end of the road and we are just nearing Arnisdale.”

“Nay, Gordon. I've seen and heard nothing. Glenelg is its usual tranquil self. A few casual tourists are ambling about and looking at the memorial, but nothing untoward.”

“OK. Do me a favour. Keep a look out and ring me if you see anything. If those bastards are on the road now they will easily out-pace us and we'll never catch up.”

“Shouldn't I phone the police if it's that important?”

“No, phone me. I have direct number of their incident room. It will actually be quicker for you to phone me than dial 999. When we get to Glenelg, I'll tie up and pop in and say hello to Kathleen, but it will have to be quick as we will need to get back to Mealag.”

“Right you are, Gordon. Take care.”

Silver command led by Maythorp had been considering the latest intelligence gleaned principally from Ritson's conversation with Gordon. The evidence had been well examined and considered reliable. The psychologist had confirmed that Truscott was not suffering from any delusional features and was remarkably calm in the circumstances, if understandably somewhat excited. Gold had instructed that whatever incident had occurred in the morning at the lodge involving the two women, investigation into it could wait, but in the light of what Cindy had said they amended the order about sealing off the lodge pending forensic examination to include the area down to the loch and along the shoreline to the dam. COBR were updated and were still insisting that despite the latest major developments, the incident was still to be treated as a hostage incident involving a very eminent foreign statesman by persons who had already committed murder. The Prime Minister had been updated by the Home Secretary and the necessary channels were being opened to the US President. There was a speedy response from the Prime Minister that the President and the British Government affirmed that no deal should be made with terrorists. The instruction was relayed to Gold and Silver commands, the latter passing it on to Curry. Seated three away from Manders was an intelligence analyst coordinating any information received from GCHQ. He turned and passed Maythorp a note.

“GCHQ Morwenstow report several incidents of suspicious mobile phone traffic in the vicinity. We have eliminated Truscott's call to us, but he has made another to a house in Glenelg. There is another made from near Kinloch Hourn to a location on Skye. Its brevity aroused suspicion and it is currently being retrieved.”

“How long will that take?” the Silver commander asked.

“Impossible to say, but minutes probably.”

They waited. The intelligence officers phone rang and was immediately answered.

“We will rendezvous at about 5:10pm at location 1.” The officer spoke as he wrote it down. “Message ends.”

“Where was it sent to, do we know that?” Maythorp asked impatiently.

“It's coming through now, Sir” a voice answered. “A mobile phone somewhere on Skye, around Broadford.”

“Get me the map up, please” and almost immediately his request was granted. Everyone in the room studied the Broadford area. A brief general discussion followed, expertly chaired by Maythorp who kept comment brief and very much to the point. He then went around the room asking his senior advisers and experts for their assessment. Six favoured Skye as the rendezvous, with four of those opting for the nearby Isle of Skye airport. Three favoured a port or inlet on Skye, with two saying that it was too early to draw any conclusions. The commander addressed the room.

“This is potentially very serious, very serious indeed. Bronze has deployed his available forces widely in order to attempt to cover a vast area. Many of those forces are not anywhere near Skye and certainly not on it. We must stop these people before they get on the island. However, there are two potential crossing points – the Skye bridge and a small ferry at Kyle Rhea, off the Glenelg road. The bridge is effectively sealed, but there are no forces along that other highway. The suspects could simply drive on the ferry and disappear. If we remove forces from the bridge, we leave that exposed. There is, of course, no reason to suppose that they do not have a boat moored up somewhere which can take them across the Straits – it looks a short crossing.” Suggestions please.”

Another discussion followed at the conclusion of which Maythorp picked up the phone and spoke to Bronze.

“It is our assessment that the suspects are headed for Skye. We recommend immediate deployment of the helicopter to keep watch on the Khyle Rhea ferry area for the suspects' vehicle and also keep a good look out for any boat heading directly across the Straits from the mainland towards Skye. We also believe some ESU and TSG units should be deployed west along the A87 towards the Isle of Skye and to wait at Shiel. The road block currently at the eastern end of the A87 could be manned with less officers, freeing up resources that could be redeployed towards Glenelg and the Kyle Rhea ferry. We consider it a low risk that the terrorists will head east.”

Curry and Ritson considered the options. They were still in operational command, but they would have to have compelling reasons to go against the tactical assessment made by Silver.

“Is it a large ferry, this Kyle Rhea one?” asked Ritson, fearing there may be many passengers on board.

“No. It will carry four to six vehicles on an open deck. Occupants normally stay in the car. The crossing only takes a few minutes.”

Reassured, Ritson said, “We don't have much option do we? No one has yet really seen this vehicle, though we know roughly where it is. This is such a large area to cover, with our current resources we cannot lock up every road, let alone every track and pass. I say go with it.”

“Agreed” a sombre Curry replied and he issued the orders. An ESU unit with its cargo of secret electronic wizardry and other devices and twelve fully kitted out specialist anti- terrorist officers of TSG, were already waiting in a lay-by on the A87, their unmarked white vans attracting little interest from the few passers-by. Curry, using his local knowledge and considerable foresight, had sent the units part way along the A87 half an hour earlier, believing that the terrorists were heading towards the coast and possibly Skye, but it would still take them at least twenty minutes at full speed to reach Shiel – the junction where the unclassified Glenelg / Kyle Rhea mountain road joins the main route A87 to the Kyle of Lochalsh.

Mattar slowed as he approached the large car park at Glenelg and parked in the far left hand corner, close to where they had left the camper van. A few sightseers were gathered around the memorial, reading the inscriptions. Others were milling about, some leaning on the sea wall. No one turned to look at the muddy vehicle that had just pulled in and parked. Bagheri placed a large strip of medical tape on Assiter's mouth and then wrapped a tartan scarf around his head and face to conceal the gag. Bagheri withdrew his pistol from his shoulder holster inside his flak jacket.

“No noise, you understand,” he menacingly waved the gun in Assiter's face as he spoke.

Assiter nodded.

Fadyar alighted and quickly entered the camper. She walked through the spacious interior and then unlocked the rear doors and lowered the steps. There was no rush, no noise, nothing that might arouse suspicion. Bagheri was first to leave the rear seat of the Land Rover quickly followed by Assiter who was half pulled by Bagheri and half pushed by Khan. Assiter started to struggle, but was quickly restrained by his two captors and between them they quickly escorted Assiter up the steps of the camper. He stumbled as he climbed and Khan quickly called out.

“Come on. You will feel a lot better when you have slept off all that whisky.” Any observer would have immediately turned away convinced the groggy man had imbibed too heavily.

Mattar, slightly saddened to be leaving his 4x4, locked its side doors once all the weapons and equipment had been transferred. He went to the back of the vehicle, opened the rear door and lifted up the floor panel. In the centre well was a small package wrapped in oily brown paper with wires leading to a small device, which became extremely sensitive to movement five minutes after it had been activated. He carefully set the switch, closed the floor panel and locked the door. After a few minutes, the bomb would be charged, and any subsequent vibration would result in it destroying any evidence of their brief, but deadly, occupation of the vehicle. He joined Assiter and his companions inside the camper and sat in the driving seat. He started the engine and moved away from the car park exactly one minute after their arrival, just moments before Gordon telephoned Sandy.

“Remember Mawdud. Drive purposefully, but we are now tourists. Do not attract attention. And by the way, well done on the mountain,” Fadyar gave Mattar a deserved compliment.

Twenty minutes later, Gordon quickly secured the boat at the jetty beneath the car park at Glenelg and walked carefully up the slippery concrete steps, green with algae, carrying the two submachine guns taken from the dead agents. He was closely followed by Cindy and Paulette, each carrying a concealed rifle. Sandy and Margaret, along with Kathleen were at the top of the steps to meet them all.

“I'm really sorry Kathleen, there's no time for proper introductions. Have you seen nothing at all strange Sandy?”

“No, can't say I have. It's all been very, very quiet.”

“They must have gone through the hills then onto the A87, goodness knows where though. I don't know of any way through or round The Saddle.” The Saddle was yet another Munro that was situated between the Glenelg Road and the A87 and represented a significant obstacle even to walkers, and was utterly impassable for vehicles trying to take a shortcut from one road to the other.

“We will wait here for a few minutes, see what happens. They could still be on the hills or coming from Corran, but the likelihood is that they should be quite a way ahead of us.”

They went and sat on the public benches, staring out across the sea to the Isle of Skye. “That camper has gone, of course.” Kathleen nonchalantly remarked.

“Camper? What camper? Do you mean a camper van?” Cindy responded.

“Yes, Morag next door said they were nice people. Four of them I think, up here to meet friends, but it has been here a while. It's gone now but it was here at lunch. Over there, by that Land Rover.”

Gordon looked to the far corner of the car park. He cursed for not noticing earlier the neatly parked vehicle, but his attention was now drawn to the bay next to it. It was dry, whereas all the other non-occupied bays were darkened by the moisture in the air and from the sea.

“They must have only just gone. Look at the dry areas. Give me your keys Sandy, we're going for a ride.” Sandy obliged and handed them over.

“No Gordon, NO!” Cindy shouted at him. “You promised the police.”

“Well we don't know it is them, do we? Let's see if we can spot them on the road.”

Before Cindy could say more, Paulette shouted “I'm coming too” and, as one, all except Margaret and Kathleen rushed to the Range Rover.

“Don't worry Margaret – we'll be back soon.” Gordon called out as he opened the driver's door. ”Stay indoors and don't go near that Land Rover. We'll phone the police and tell them what's happened.”

Sandy jumped into the front passenger seat, whilst Cindy and Paulette sat in the back. Gordon started the engine and accelerated hard out of the car park, causing the tourists to turn and shake their heads at the unwelcome noise caused by the revving engine. Gordon gave Sandy his mobile phone and the slip of paper with Ritson's direct line written upon it.

“Phone that number and tell them what we are doing, can you Sandy? Thanks.”

Seconds later Ritson answered, “I am with Gordon Truscott in a Range Rover travelling on… bugger, the signal's gone” Sandy was not prone to bad language and ‘bugger' was about as bad as it got for him.

“Well, I'm not turning back. We may get a signal at the top of Ratagan. We can try at the viewpoint there.”

That was several miles away and Cindy wondered if stopping there might waste precious time. The delay at the car park had already cost them several minutes.

“I know they are ahead of us, but not by much, and we will be a lot quicker than a cumbersome camper van, albeit being driven by a pretty able driver” said Gordon “I wonder why they changed from the Land Rover?”

“So they could pass themselves off as tourists, I should think,” said Cindy “Also, Dean would be very visible in a Land Rover but not so in a camper van.”

Gordon nodded, impressed.

“The trouble with the road ahead is that it's almost impossible to pass anyone, unless they allow you by. Let's hope we don't get stuck behind some selfish tourists”. It was Sandy who spoke. He seemed to be treating the pursuit of the terrorists as if it were some sort of surreal adventure on one his courses, but Gordon's next comment swept away any fantasies.

“If we come across the camper, we must decide what we are to do. We will soon be spotted if we follow them. These people are professionals and they may know this vehicle anyway as they must have had us all under observation for quite a while. The terrorists have killed several police already. I think Ritson is right. If we spot them, we should report it and then leave it to the police.”

Paulette remained silent. Cindy and Sandy murmured their agreement. Gordon tried to mentally calculate how much quicker their vehicle would be than the camper van around the twists and turns of the road as it climbed Mount Ratagan, but decided that it would probably hinge on how much traffic there was on the road. Even the Range Rover could not risk taking the dangerous bends at speed.