“I’ll kill him.”
Josie changed the subject: “I’ve called in a helicopter that will pick us up in just over an hour to take us to Marrakech. Mike, I assume you have stuff at your hotel in Essaouira? Ramon, USAF is flying you straight to the Landstuhl Hospital in Germany. I need to hand over this laptop and phone to your colleagues … they’re very interested in them.”
“Have they broadcast anything yet?” Mike asked. She felt helpless without a phone.
“Yes, they’ve released Ramon’s video, as I understand it.”
“And mine?”
“No idea there was one. I guess it’s on that laptop.”
Before long, they were approaching the outskirts of Essaouira.
Friday 9th September was a momentous day for more reasons than one.
For Brendan, a decision had been made.
He had previously been weighing up his options and had passed these over to his controller. They had decided that poison wasn’t a realistic possibility – it would be difficult to get past the villa gate, let alone administer it and get out safely. The rocket grenade had a certain appeal, but it was felt that Brendan would then have to negotiate, threatening further attacks. They would have to vacate the area quickly – and, presumably, even more security would be brought in. Instead, his controller had looked at the drone footage again and reassured himself that the villa next door was unoccupied. If Deniz – one of the Turks, who had recently served as a sniper for the Saudi Army in Yemen – could gain access to the roof, he should have a direct line of sight to anyone on the rear terrace or kitchen area. The controller had instructed Brendan to go to the villa with Deniz in case anything unexpected happened, and Selim and the man who had driven the car down to Cannes could stay in the car. Selim would be the get-away driver.
Brendan went through the plan, choosing where to climb the boundary wall by identifying a spot that was only covered by one security camera. Deniz could take this camera out with one shot from a silenced gun, and this would give them a route up the external staircase to the solarium on the roof. He preferred this route to the alternative of cutting the electricity supply, as the alarm systems and cameras would have back-up batteries. One camera failing was unlikely to draw immediate attention if all the other parts of the security system were working normally.
He only intended to be on the roof for half an hour or less, Deniz having established the rough routine of the household. They decided to clear out from their hotel and put everything into the hired Range Rover ready for a fast departure to the nearest border.
With the plan rehearsed, the four men left their hotel and drove the short distance to the adjoining villa. The bottom part of the rear door of the Range Rover folded down and provided a step up onto the car roof and, from there, up onto the high boundary wall. Deniz pushed through the tops of some cypresses and shot out the one security camera. As he dropped down the other side into the garden to the side of the villa, Brendan followed him. All was quiet, and there were no unexpected gardeners or dogs and no locked gates or grilles. No alarms went off.
Brendan and Deniz climbed up the outside staircase to the enclosed roof area used as a suntrap and barbecue area. They were completely hidden by the parapet wall and not overlooked by any other villa. There was a warmth radiating from the red floor tiles, and there was a pleasant background smell from the junipers and cypresses. Deniz found a corner, created by a chimney stack, that helped to hide him and to give him somewhere to rest his rifle with its telescopic sights.
It was exactly fifteen minutes to midday, and now it was simply a question of waiting until his target stepped onto the terrace of the adjoining villa.
Early on that Friday morning, Mike had been sitting in a window seat aboard the first flight to Málaga. The sky had been graded from a dusty brown at ground level to a pure, pale blue higher up. She had held a plastic cup of water in both hands for most of the short journey. She had felt naked without a cell phone, but she would get one very soon in Spain. At least she had her laptop and special bits of computer kit.
Following her arrival at Málaga, she had come out of the terminal building into the heat and jumped into a taxi. Almost immediately, it drove past the San Miguel brewery, and she had experienced an odd craving for a cold beer at 11.00am. She had seen the reflection in the taxi window of her black wig. She always preferred to wear it when she travelled, as it matched her passport photograph and caused less hassle.
Wazz had been expecting her. She had sent a message from Marrakech that had conveniently left out almost all detail, including being chained to a wall – in fact, particularly the bit about being chained to a wall – and the video. He had messaged back, asking if she had found Randy to which she replied with a simple “No”.
Mike had thought Diego had given her a smile as she walked through the outer gate, having paid the taxi, but it was hard to tell. Wazz had helped to pull her small suitcase up to the villa.
“Hey, how was it?” He had sounded genuinely happy to see her back.
“If I said that having a cigarette by the bins with you could be the highlight of this trip, that might give you an idea.”
“That bad?”
“Yes, and sadly, there was neither sight nor sound of Randy, but that’s a long story. Probably a two-cigarette story. What’s happened here in the last few days?”
“Drones; we’ve had a lot of drones until Diego used them for target practice.”
“That means Brendan or his heavies are nearby. How are the Yellands?”
“Not used to people telling them what to do and not used to being unable to move. Maria has now sunk into some sort of deep depression and is on even more tablets—”
“That’s nothing new,” Mike had interrupted.
“As to Angelica? I really would give her a wide berth.”
“Why?” Mike had asked, as if she couldn’t hazard a guess.
“She arranged to have her nails done at some place in Fuengirola and booked a limo.”
“Oh, for Fuck’s sake.”
“Luckily, Diego was keeping an eye on her.”
Mike had burst out laughing. “I’ve missed you. How far did she get?”
“I don’t think they had applied the topcoat of varnish.” He had paused as she went on giggling. “What do you think? Diego stopped her, she complained that life wasn’t worth living and he offered to apply the varnish himself. She screamed at him – a man who has survived more bullets, mortars and missiles than she’s had hot dinners.”
“Has Charles received any new threats or demands?”
“Not that I know of … but he’s an odd character, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think he even trusts himself.” Mike had tried often enough to work out if he was in control or just went whichever way the wind was blowing at that moment.
“I need a cigarette before lunch.”
