The Gilgamesh Conspiracy (39 page)

‘I am sure by the time we get to my house then my telephone inquiries will have borne fruit,’ said Marafi. ‘Apricots, avocados, very ripe.’ He kissed his fingertips. ‘Delicious!’ He looked in the rear view mirror and gave her a grin. ‘And you are still young and lovely Gerry, unlike me who grows old and grey.’

‘That’s because it’s getting dark,’ said Gerry. ‘First thing in the morning I’m middle-aged and grouchy, aren’t I Dan?’

‘You’re still lovely, but yes; very grouchy.’

‘Leyla, look who I have brought home with me!’

‘It’s Gerry! You called me from the airport, you old fool!’

Dan saw a small slender woman, somewhat stooped with age but with a lively expression come rushing into the garden and kiss Gerry on both cheeks and talk to her in a stream of Arabic. Gerry replied in another stream and kissed her again and then indicated Dan.

‘So this is the handsome young man you have brought with you?’ she asked with a smile.

‘Leyla this is Daniel.’

‘And he is going to help you in the lions’ den, which is where you are going, Adnan tells me.’

‘Well with his help me and Dan are going to be in and out of the den before the lions wake up.’

‘Let’s hope so. The world is still a dangerous place, but of course Adnan wants to go with you on whatever hazardous journey you are taking, but I told him you’re too old! Leave it to Gerry and her friend; they don’t need you slowing them up.’

Gerry smiled at Adnan, but made no attempt to deny that he would be too old and slow. ‘What we need from him is information. The rest we must do ourselves,’ she said.

‘Leyla’s right; I’m getting on,’ Adnan agreed. ‘My son puts up with me running the airport car hire although he thinks I’m too old; mind you he never tells it to me.’

‘That’s because he’s a good boy. Anyway that’s enough of our family bickering; come and have something to eat and drink; the food on these aircrafts is not what it should be any more.’

While they were eating the telephone rang. ‘Excuse me,’ said Adnan. His voice drifted in from the office, at first quietly but then raised in some excitement. Leyla put her hand on Gerry’s arm and smiled. Gerry smiled at Dan.

‘What’s he saying?’ Dan whispered.

‘Shush!’ said the two women. Dan had to wait impatiently until Adnan returned.

‘Saeed Massoud has come through with the information,’ he announced. ‘Tomorrow morning I will take you to the Almahwani garage which is in Nasariyah Street. It is owned by Ishmail Farahat the brother of Tabitha Hamsin and we will ask him where Rashid Hamsin is living now.’

‘Shouldn’t we go immediately?’ Dan suggested.

‘Now? You two should rest,’ Adnan suggested. ‘Tomorrow morning will be fine. I’ll show you to the guest bedroom. Oh!’

‘What?’

‘Er…I’ve been making a prediction…I mean an assumption that the two of you are…would be…er…’

‘Oh for goodness sake!’ said Leyla, ‘what he means is; are you two sharing a bed?’

‘Oh yes,’ said Gerry, ‘we only need one bed.’

The guest bedroom was on the ground floor and included an en-suite bathroom. Dan emerged from the shower to find that Gerry had got dressed again and was studying a street map of Amman. ‘Ok, what’s up?’ he asked.

‘I thought we shouldn’t waste a moment more than we have to, so if you’re happy we’ll go now.’ She held up a key. ‘I spoke to Adnan while you were in the shower and he’s lending us his car. He still wants to come with us you know, so quickly; get your clothes on and we’ll be away before he insists.’

‘General, I think we’ve got something!’

‘Ok Kolinski, what is it?’

‘A call from Frederikson in Amman. He’s just heard from a guy named Saeed Massoud in Internal Security there. He’s had a request from a guy named Adnan Marafi who’s ex of their organisation. He’s trying to track down a family with Iraqi connections and Massoud thought it was worth mentioning as Marafi retired five years ago and hasn’t been in contact for ages.’

‘Yeah, go on.’

‘Well I just ran Marafi through the computer and it came up with a list of things. He’s done some work with us in the past, all open and above board and he’s also worked with the Brits as well.’

‘Have you heard of him?’ Bruckner asked Fielding.

‘The name seems familiar, but I’m not sure.’

‘There’s something else sirs,’ said Kolinski. ‘He worked on a joint operation with Geraldine Tate. Twelve years ago. They got into a bit of a mess in Aleppo; Marafi was injured but Tate pulled him out of there.’

Bruckner glanced at Fielding, then the clock and then turned to Neil Samms and Vince Parker. ‘Ok you two; it’s just coming up to eleven thirty in Amman. Flying time is about five hours so you can be knocking on Adnan Marafi’s door at dawn tomorrow if you get a damn move on. We’ll brief you further by sat com when you’re on board.’

‘Yes sir!’

‘Now get going!

‘Weitzman, call up the guys in Farnborough and make sure the airplane’s at instant ready to go!’

‘Yes sir!’

‘Ok show me Amman, and where this Marafi guy lives,’ Bruckner demanded. Kolinski tapped at his key board and a detailed three dimensional view of Amman appeared on the big screen. Kolinski tapped some more; shuffled his mouse and pressed a button.

‘That’s his house three hours ago sir.’

‘I’ve a good mind to call for a drone strike,’ Bruckner muttered.

‘Wait a minute Robert I don’t think you can do that in a built-up street in Amman,’ Fielding protested.

Bruckner grinned at him. ‘Yeah I know, but my finger’s itching on the damn trigger.

At midnight in Amman the roads were still busy but with Gerry’s memory of the general layout of the city assisted by Dan checking the map they made their way without incident to Nasariyah Street and the Almahwani garage. 

‘What now?’ Dan asked.

‘He’ll probably have a night watchman,’ said Gerry. ‘Let’s just wait and see.’

Fifteen minutes later two men armed with night sticks and carrying heavy Maglite torches emerged from a side alley and walked along the front of the building. They stopped at the big main access doors and inspected the locks, then peered through the windows assisted by their flashlights. ‘I wish I had my Taser with me,’ said Gerry, ‘but let’s go back to that bar round the corner and buy some soft weapons.’

Thirty five minutes later the two men rattled the locks again and peered through the windows.

‘Hey, have you got a light?’ a woman called.

They whirled round and played their flashlights over the speaker, who proved to be a tall woman with dishevelled clothes and disordered long dark hair. She was staggering along the street clutching a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other and another one between her lips.

‘Hey you guys!’ she called out again and the cigarette dropped from her mouth. She bent down to pick it up and sank down to her knees and then finally rolled over on to her back. The two men walked over to her, not noticing the man who walked quickly and quietly up behind them. A few seconds later without realising what was happening they were both disarmed and lying face down in the road with knees planted in their backs and arms crooked around their necks.

‘Do exactly what we tell you and I believe that it is the will of God that you will both live,’ said the woman.

‘Ok, I can’t find anything that relates to Rashid Hamsin,’ Gerry said after they had spent nearly an hour rummaging through Ismail Farahat’s office. ‘I was hoping that perhaps he was working with his uncle. However there’s a message from a woman named
Farrah
inviting the Farahat family over for a birthday party. I remember Farrah is Rashid’s sister; she married a local man and was living somewhere in Jordan.’

‘Perhaps it’s time to telephone Ismail Farahat and have him come over, then,’ Dan suggested.

Gerry peeled the masking tape off the mouth of one of the two guards who were now tied to office chairs. ‘Oooh, sorry,’ she apologised, ‘it’s pulled out some of your beard; that must hurt. Now we need you to telephone Farahat and tell him that there’s been a break in at the garage. You haven’t called the police yet because the safe has been opened; financial papers have been examined and he might want to check everything is in order before the police come snooping around his financial affairs.’ She paused. ‘Did you get that?’

The man gazed at her for a moment and then nodded.

‘Good!’ said Gerry. ‘And what will happen if you try to trick me in any way?’

‘You will use that welding torch on me.’

‘Yes that’s right. Now are you ready to make the call?’

Fifteen minutes later a heavily built man, aged about sixty, well over six feet tall stepped out of a Mercedes saloon, along with a younger man smaller in stature, but carrying a handgun. ‘Hamed! Where are you?’ The first arrival called out as he barged through the door.

‘Up in the office Ismail!’ the guard called out.

Ismail Farahat ran up the stairs and came in to his office. The two guards were seated on the chairs and behind them stood the two intruders. The man was clearly Euro or American. The women was harder to place; she was heavily tanned and dark haired and said ‘Good morning Ismail Farahat, peace be upon you,’ in well-spoken Arabic, and then when Farahat’s companion came in a few seconds later she said ‘Rashid Hamsin, peace be upon you. It’s been a few years since we met.’

And to his complete surprise Farahat heard his nephew reply in English ‘Sandra Travis; what the hell are you doing here?’

‘I need to talk to you Rashid.’

‘You two know each other then,’ said Farajat.

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ said Rashid ‘She’s a British spy.’

‘Oh! One of those creatures,’ said Farajat, ‘and I suppose you’re one of those shit-stirring American CIA people,’ he said to Dan in heavily accented English. ‘You Americans with your British friends clinging to your hands like some bad behaved child, you just make trouble everywhere!’

‘We just want to talk to you. We’re not here to make trouble,’ Dan replied.

‘Wait,’ said Farajat reverting to Arabic. ‘So let me understand this correctly? You two burgled my business and frightened these guards just because you wanted to find Rashid?’

‘Yes,’ said Gerry, ‘we haven’t disturbed anything.’

‘Then why didn’t you just get my telephone number and give me a call? Why all this business?’

‘She said she would burn my fingers off with a welding torch if I didn’t call you,’ said the security guard.

Farajat stared at Gerry. ‘You really are a piece of shit aren’t you?’

Gerry stared at him for a moment. ‘Yes I am,’ she said. She walked over to the window and gazed out into the street.

‘What did you say to her?’ said Dan, frustrated by his inability to understand the conversation but aware that she seemed upset.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Gerry. She turned round and wiped her face with a tissue ‘Let’s go.’

‘Go where’ Dan asked. ‘We have to find out about this damned Gilgamesh. Aren’t you going to tell Rashid about his father? What happened to him, how he died.’

‘He doesn’t want to know.’ She sniffed. ‘I think we may as well just go home now.’

‘Gerry, neither of us has a goddam home to go to!’ Dan protested. 

‘What about my father?’ Rashid demanded, ‘we thought he was killed years ago.’

‘Hooked him,’ Gerry said to herself, ‘now to reel him in gently.’ She wiped her eyes one more time and then told herself to cut out the theatrics before she overplayed her act. ‘It’s a long story; perhaps we can go somewhere more comfortable,’ she suggested.

‘Ok, we can go to back to my home,’ said Farajat. ‘You don’t want these people in the same house as Nadia and the children.’

Gerry turned round and stared at Rashid. ‘Children…you have children?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I have two. You haven’t done your research then.’

‘We don’t think you go by the name of Rashid Hamsin any longer,’ said Dan. He looked over at Gerry who seemed on the verge of tears again.

‘No, I am Rashid Farajat now.’

‘And where is your mother?’

‘She died five years ago. She never got over losing my father.’

‘Do you want me to drive?’ Dan asked as Gerry walked to the passenger side while she fumbled for the car key.

She snapped out of her reverie. ‘No no, I’ll drive. I was just going to the driver’s side as if I was back in the UK.’

She followed Farajat’s car as he set off up the street.

‘You don’t think they’ll suddenly take off, try and lose us in traffic do you? Or telephone for the police.’

‘No. They want to be rid of us as quickly as possible so they’ll co-operate.’

They followed the Mercedes to a well-to-do district of the city and watched as a pair of motorised gates opened up in a walled garden. ‘Maybe I should park outside.’

They got out and walked through the gates Farajat was standing behind the car watching them walk up the drive and Gerry heard the gates rumbling and then clang shut behind them. He showed them into a comfortable sitting room. ‘Please sit down; would you like a drink?’