Page 42 of Vicious Circle


  ‘The northern redoubt will also be the best place to site my comms post,’ she said.

  There was a sudden and complete silence in the cinema. Every eye turned to Jo, and then immediately went back to Hector.

  Nastiya was at the water fountain drawing a mug of cool water. She was as surprised as any of them by Jo’s outburst, but she recovered and went swiftly to stand at Jo’s side, before Hector had decided on his reply. Hector was left in no doubt whose side Nastiya was on.

  ‘I hadn’t thought about you coming with the strike team to Kazundu, Jo.’ Hector broke the pregnant silence carefully.

  ‘Well, you should think about it now.’ There was a tone in Jo’s voice that he had never heard until that moment. ‘I am arranging with Emma Purdom to set up special communications with her so that while the raid is in progress Emma will be able to keep us informed of everything that is happening in the castle. She will be shipping the equipment to me here in Abu Zara within the next few days. My specialized task will be to keep in constant contact with her in Houston. She is the only one of us who has eyes inside the castle. If either Johnny Congo or Carl Bannock goes to ground in there you will need Emma and me to provide you with live coverage of their movements.’

  ‘Jo has a diploma in electronic communications, on top of her law degree,’ Nastiya pointed out in the pause that followed Jo’s announcement.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Hector snapped at Nastiya. He was under attack on two fronts.

  ‘She told me when we were in the girls’ room a short while ago. She knows the layout of the castle better than any of us sitting here,’ Nastiya explained as if to a child. ‘If you want to know how I know that, well, think about who gave us the drawings of the place.’

  ‘Nazzy and Jo are making good sense,’ Paddy chimed in. ‘If one or both of those bastards gets away into the castle we will need all the edge we can muster. I for one will be happy to have Jo whispering in my ear to point out the way through the maze.’

  ‘You are being heavily outgunned, Heck.’ Dave Imbiss joined the discussion, ‘A wise man would give up gracefully.’

  ‘Who is talking about wise men here?’ Nastiya asked ingenuously. ‘I thought we are talking about Hector Cross.’

  ‘Okay.’ Hector carried on as though he was totally deaf to this fusillade of repartee. ‘So, we are unanimously agreed on my suggestion that Jo goes along with us as field director of comms? Let’s move along, then.’

  He paused to pour himself another mug of coffee and to recover his equilibrium. Then he flashed Jo a conciliatory grin, before he resumed. ‘We will use two kill teams, each comprising fifteen men. I will command the first and Paddy the second. Carl Bannock will be my prime target so my call sign will be “White”. Paddy, your prime target will be Johnny Congo, so it follows naturally that your call sign will be “Black”. Paddy, you can choose your number two.’

  ‘I’ll take Nastiya,’ Paddy said.

  ‘Why am I so surprised by your choice? I would have taken her if you had passed,’ Hector mused aloud. ‘I will have to settle for Paul Stowe as my number two.’

  Hector’s former head keeper at Brandon Hall had swiftly worked his way into the top echelon at Cross Bow after Hector had given him the job. He had proven himself to be a highly trained fighting man. He was quick-witted, intelligent and utterly reliable; a good man to have beside you in any scrape.

  ‘By the way, where the hell is Paul?’ Hector looked at Paddy.

  ‘He is down on the old Number Twelve concession doing a routine inspection of the security there,’ Paddy replied.

  ‘Get him back here as soon as you can. He must be brought up to speed with our planning.’

  Paddy grunted acquiescence and scribbled a note on his pad.

  ‘We will go over the details again later, but that covers just about everything in broad outline, with one notable exception,’ Hector summed up. ‘How the hell do we get our hands on the Antonov Condor and who is going to fly it into Kazundu with fifty armed men on board without Johnny Congo and Carl Bannock knowing what we are up to?’ He paused to let them consider the question and then he went on. ‘I know who I want to fly it.’

  There was a murmur of agreement from everybody except Jo, who looked puzzled. Hector addressed her directly.

  ‘Sorry, Jo.’ His expression softened. ‘There is no way you could know that I am referring to Bernie and Nella Vosloo. They are a couple of commercial pilots, a husband and wife team, who own and run a small air charter company operating all across Africa. They can fly anything with wings, and they aren’t too fussy about abiding strictly by aviation or any other laws. They did a tremendous job for us a while back.’

  ‘I know about the Vosloos, Hector,’ she corrected him mildly. ‘They are the people who flew you and your team into Somalia to rescue Hazel’s daughter from the pirate gang who had kidnapped her.’

  ‘How did you know that?’ Hector stared at her.

  ‘Hazel told Ronnie and me about them. The Bannock Family Trust had to pay the Vosloos’ bill, remember?’

  ‘You get to the winning post before I even start running!’ Hector conceded. ‘Well then, perhaps you also know that the Vosloos operate only a single aircraft. It’s an ancient Hercules C-130. But the type is about as close to the Antonov Condor as it is possible to get, except for the possibility that the user manual is printed in Cyrillic. But Bernie and Nella don’t need a manual to fly a Russian copy of a Hercules.’

  ‘Sure of that we are, Heck? Will they take the job?’ Nastiya cut in.

  ‘In both respects sure of that we are indeed, Nazzy, if you can follow that convoluted bit of grammar. I sent Nella an email last night. My question to her was, “Can you fly an Antonov Condor? Love Hector”. I received her reply a few hours ago.’ He held up his iPhone so they were able to read the text on the screen.

  ‘This is the typical Nella Vosloo reply. “Can a peacock pee in the park? How far? How high? How much? Love Nella”.’ All of them chuckled. But Hector looked seriously at Jo.

  ‘Can your friend Emma hack into the Condor’s communications system, Jo?’

  ‘I told you, Emma is the original IT whizz-kid. No worries.’

  ‘Can she transmit a message to the pilots of the Condor as if it originated from Carl Bannock in Kazundu, and can she then intercept the reply from the Condor so that Carl Bannock is entirely unaware of the exchange?’

  ‘Of course she can. She placed her own bug in the Condor and she can play it like Little Walter played his harmonica.’

  ‘Who the hell is Little—’ Hector began then changed tack. ‘Scrub that question. Next question, I don’t suppose our Emma would be able use her bug to track the Condor in flight, and give us a fix on it when we ask her?’ Hector pressed Jo for more specifics.

  ‘Absolutely. There are no secrets safe from our girl,’ Jo responded without hesitation. ‘She can read the Condor’s instrument panel from three thousand miles away as though she was sitting in the pilot’s seat.’

  ‘Will you ask her for a breakdown of the Condor’s recent flights and the destinations of each flight, covering the last six months?’ He paused to consider and then went on. ‘Also please ask her for the personal details of the two Russian pilots. If at all possible I would like her to give us ID photographs of the two of them, perhaps even copies of their licences?’

  ‘I am sure she will be able to do all that for you.’

  ‘How long will it take her, do you think? Please impress upon her that it’s urgent.’

  ‘It won’t take long. Emma is totally switched on,’ Jo replied. ‘Even allowing for the different time zones it will only be a day or so. Emma sleeps with her computer on one pillow and her boyfriend’s head on the other. Given a choice, I think she prefers the computer.’

  ‘Okay.’ Hector stood up and stretched, and then he checked his wristwatch. ‘It’s almost seven o’clock already. So we can take a break. Rumour has it that the chef has cooked up a feast for this evening, so
you are all invited for eight p.m. That gives you an hour to primp and preen. See you all later.’

  The dinner was heavy on the New Zealand green-lipped mussels, Maine lobster, bluefin tuna, gulf snapper and Chablis. Hector was the only one who stayed with the red burgundy.

  Before they had finished eating they received proof that even Jo had underestimated Emma Purdom’s efficiency. At the same time as the dessert was being served, Emma’s response to Jo’s queries was brought through to the dining room by one of the radio operators from the Cross Bow communications centre. Hector opened the envelope and scanned the page quickly, before he looked up again at his dinner guests.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, hear the gospel according to St Emma. The Condor took off from Kazundu this morning at oh-eight-hundred hours GMT bound for Tehran in Iran with an unlisted cargo. Its ETA in Tehran is approximately one hour thirty minutes from now. On all its three previous visits to that city over the past six months the Condor remained in Tehran for twenty-four hours. Of course, that is in accord with DCA regulations to enable the pilots the stipulated rest period. After that it flew on to either Hong Kong or Russia. However, it always returns to Kazundu via Bangkok, where it takes on passengers. I am going to wager all my marbles on the Condor making the same homeward flight via Bangkok this time around. About now Carl and Johnny will be ready for some fresh Thai meat from the Bangkok flesh markets. According to St Emma, when in the Sin City the Russian pilots stay over at the Mandarin Oriental hotel for their requisite twenty-four-hour rest stop. So that gives Nastiya and Nella Vosloo a clear six days to get to Bangkok ahead of them and to be in the Oriental to meet the crew of the Condor when they arrive. Emma will send a message to the head pilot, purporting to emanate from Carl Bannock, to meet our two ladies and to ferry them down to Kazundu.’

  *

  Hector and Jo awoke early the next morning in each other’s arms. It had been a busy night and they were both in buoyant mood.

  ‘Do you mind if I invite Catherine Cayla to join us?’ Hector asked.

  ‘Oh, what fun! That’s a brilliant idea,’ Jo enthused and, very soon after his brief intercom call to Bonnie in the nursery, there was a discreet knock at the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ Hector demanded.

  ‘It’s just us,’ Bonnie’s voice sang back.

  ‘Door is open. Put the smaller part of us through it, please, Bonnie.’

  The door opened a crack and Catherine was deposited on the threshold. She was dressed in an immaculate pink romper suit and there was a matching ribbon in her hair. She sat four-square and looked about the room with an expression of mystification.

  ‘This way, Cathy baby!’ Hector called to her, and it took her a moment to focus on the two heads in the rumpled bed. Then it registered and she emitted a joyous cry of ‘Baba’ and came to her feet. She tottered halfway across the wide floor before she also recognized Jo. She chortled with glee. ‘Man!’ she greeted her distinctly. ‘Good man!’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Jo exclaimed. ‘Is good a new word?’

  ‘And she used it for you, not me,’ Hector grumbled. ‘I am jealous.’

  In her haste to reach the bed Catherine abandoned her upright gait and reverted to hands and knees. She completed the last few feet at a canter. Hector reached down and swept her up in his arms. She was warm and bouncy and she emitted a powerful aroma of baby talcum. They took turns to cuddle her as they talked.

  ‘Can you two girls be serious for a moment, Jo?’ Hector cut in at last.

  ‘Of course we can, what do you want to be serious about?’

  ‘Seeing as how I have made the decision that you are to be a member of the Kazundu strike team…’ he began, but Jo blew him a raspberry. Cathy thought that was very funny. She laughed delightedly, and imitated Jo, splattering both of them with a fine cloud of baby spittle.

  ‘Now that you two ladies have had your say, I shall continue,’ Hector resumed. ‘Jo, you and Emma Purdom will have to set up these communications you were boasting about pretty darn quickly. We may be in action in as soon as six or seven days’ time.’

  ‘You are absolutely right, my darling. I spoke to Emma as soon as I decided that I had to go with you. She knew exactly what we needed. She works on contract for the US Navy and she has developed for them a clever little gizmo that fits the bill exactly. It’s classified, of course, but nevertheless yesterday evening she despatched one of these to me by courier. It should arrive here today, or tomorrow at the latest.’

  The promised gadget was delivered by DHL to Seascape Mansions early that same afternoon. In size and appearance it resembled a Hermès Birkin handbag. This had given Emma the inspiration to name it the Birkin. It weighed a shade over eight pounds.

  Hector and Jo drove out into the desert with the Birkin and parked the Range Rover off the main highway, well concealed behind a rugged ridge of black ironstone.

  As Jo switched on the power she explained, ‘The rechargeable battery has a life of seventy-two hours’ continuous operation. The antenna is built in. Here we go, it is acquiring satellite contact.’ She paused for a few seconds, and then she continued, ‘Bingo! Now it will automatically contact Emma’s station as its first option.’

  Suddenly a young sweet girl’s voice spoke out clearly. ‘Echo Papa Seven Niner standing by.’

  ‘Those are Emma’s initials and her year of birth, but never tell her that I told you that. She will kill me,’ Jo explained before she pressed the transmit button. ‘This is Juliet Sierra. Hi there, Emma. This is just a radio check to let you know I have received your gift and I am online.’

  ‘Good to hear your voice, Jo sweetie.’

  ‘Are you still covering Little Boy and Big Boy?’ Hector gathered that they were referring to Carl and Johnny Congo.

  ‘Affirmative to that, Jo.’

  ‘We will be going operational probably within the next six days. I will give you a heads-up as soon as it happens. In the meantime, keep it warm. Over and out.’

  ‘I’ll keep it warm, if you help him to keep it hard. Give him my love,’ said Emma and she broke the contact.

  ‘She knows about you,’ Jo explained apologetically. ‘And she can be very rude.’

  ‘I gathered that.’ Hector smiled. ‘Now tell me what is so special about this Birkin. It looks very much run-of-the-mill stuff to me.’

  ‘First of all there is its size and weight; and its incredible range and reception in the most adverse conditions.’

  ‘Yes, you have just demonstrated those qualities, but still I am not sure what all the fuss is about.’

  ‘It will support up to ten additional listening posts. That means as long as you are within ten miles you and your team leaders can follow simultaneously all Emma’s transmissions to me on your in-ear headphones. This will leave your hands free to pick your noses or whatever else takes your fancy.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Hector agreed. ‘What else makes it unique?’

  ‘It is completely secure. Nobody can possibly hack in on our transmissions,’ she said, and Hector looked dubious.

  ‘How is that again?’

  ‘Did you notice the faint click every five seconds while Emma and I were transmitting?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, now that you mention it. But I thought that was only static interference.’

  ‘You’ll hear no static on this set. It is modulated to be as clean as my mother’s kitchen.’ Hector smiled at the comparison, and she continued. ‘What you heard was actually Emma’s radio changing its frequency. Every five seconds it makes a random change, and my set follows suit and makes the change to exactly the same frequency at precisely the same instant. There are nearly five thousand AM frequencies for our sets to choose from. No other unlinked set can keep pace with us.’

  ‘Now you have seriously impressed me, but what else, if anything, is so special about it?’

  ‘At ranges up to ten miles there is virtually nothing that can interfere with transmissions from our Birkin to your headphones. Do you have any i
dea how thick the walls of Kazundu Castle are?’

  ‘I don’t know exactly, but I’m guessing they are plenty thick,’ Hector said.

  ‘In places, especially down in the dungeons, they are as much as fifteen or twenty feet thick; and that is solid rock!’

  ‘Impressive,’ Hector agreed. ‘But go on and impress me a little more.’

  ‘Okay, if you were down in the palace dungeons hunting for Carl and Johnny, Emma in Houston would be able to watch them on her planted cameras; however, she would not be able to report the information to you. Because of the thickness of the castle walls the two of you would not have comms.’

  ‘That sucks,’ Hector agreed. ‘But I think I see where you are coming from.’

  ‘Let’s hear it from the lad. It’s your turn to impress me with how smart you are.’

  ‘I am in the Kazundu dungeon and I can’t speak to Emma, but I can speak to you because you are on the airfield at the foot of the hill, or maybe you are even up on the battlements of the fort. Emma sees what our two beauties, Carl and Johnny, are up to, so she tells you and you relay it on to me.’

  ‘You are just as smart as I hoped you were,’ Jo admitted. ‘So you see why this means that I have to come to Kazundu with you. You can’t leave me behind to sit on my hands here in Abu Zara.’

  ‘You are a scheming vixen, Jo Stanley!’ Hector told her sternly, and then he went on, ‘We will need in-ear headphones for each of our team leaders. We must be hands-free to use our weapons, if needs be.’

  ‘Emma has sent me ten sets of headphones in the same package as the Birkin.’ Jo opened the package and displayed them to him.

  ‘She certainly is a switched-on young lady,’ Hector conceded. ‘And I like the sound of her voice. She sounds rather cute.’

  ‘Just you forget it, buster,’ Jo told him sternly. ‘Emma is as ugly as an organ grinder’s monkey. Besides, any time you feel the urge, this little Birkin right here beside you will be delighted to oblige.’