Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(80)
Bahir and Kedar exchanged uneasy glances over their leader’s unexpected outburst of rage.
‘This is the game they play,’ Bahir replied softly, putting down the smartphone he’d been tinkering with. ‘They say “no negotiation”. But they will. Eventually.’
‘I wish I had your patience,’ remarked Malik, shoving a handful of khat leaves into his mouth and chewing manically. ‘First, the US Government tried to stall for time by asking for specific names, which is why I had the list already prepared,’ he said smugly, tapping a forefinger to his temple. ‘Then the infidels tried offering us money. A typical American solution to everything, although they didn’t have the respect to present it to us directly!’
‘And now they’ll wait until the final hour before contacting us again,’ Bahir pointed out.
‘That’s when our brothers will be freed, right?’ said Kedar, trying to back up Bahir and reassure their leader.
Malik shook his head, dark thunder swirling in his eyes. ‘No, I bet they’ll plead for an extension of the deadline.’ Fuming at the idea, he spat a gob of green spit on to the floor, just missing Hazim as he entered the room with a tray of food. ‘But we won’t give it to them!’
With a troubled look at his irate uncle, Hazim timidly approached. ‘Do you still want your dinner?’ he asked.
‘Of course!’ snapped Malik, slumping down on a cushion to eat.
As Malik tore off some flatbread and dunked it in a bowl of hummus, Bahir said, ‘The Americans’ push for delay is understandable, from their point of view. They’ll be desperate for more time to allow their agencies to pinpoint our location.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Hazim, his hands now trembling as he poured his uncle a cup of coffee. ‘You mean they could find us here?’
‘Don’t look so worried, Hazim,’ laughed Malik, offering a green-stained grin. ‘They’ll never find us. Isn’t that right, Bahir?’
Bahir nodded confidently. ‘As I told you before, Hazim, all the jammers are operational and the ghost server relays are fully functional. So we should all just try to relax. There are still six hours to go to the deadline.’
‘But what happens when they don’t comply with our demands?’ asked Hazim.
Malik unsheathed the jambiya from his belt and held the fearsome blade in front of Hazim’s face.
‘Then we prove our commitment to our cause.’
‘Please tell me that’s the last press conference I have today,’ said President Mendez, rubbing a hand across his haggard face. ‘I don’t think I can hide my loss much longer.’
‘Yes, it can be,’ replied Lara, the Press Secretary, checking her schedule. ‘I’ll ask the Vice-President to cover the remaining two.’
‘Thank you,’ he sighed. He was worn out, the worry for his daughter leaving a hollow inside so great he felt paper-thin. With trepidation, he made his way down to the ground floor of the West Wing. So far there’d been no success in locating her, or Connor, and he was beginning to despair. But, as he entered the Situation Room, Dirk strode over to him, a victorious gleam in his eye.
‘Mr President, I’ve some good news. We’ve found them!’
President Mendez was suddenly alert, all tiredness blasted away. ‘Where?’
‘Yemen,’ replied Karen, calling up a satellite map of the Middle Eastern country on the central monitor. ‘A private plane flew out of Stafford Airport just two hours after the attacks. The official documentation stated the destination as Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. But a trace of its flight path shows the plane actually landing in neighbouring Yemen.’
‘The digital trail also ends there,’ stated Dirk. ‘There were multiple relay servers and spoofed identities, but the email appears to have originated from the capital city of Sana’a. This was confirmed by Colonel Black’s surveillance operative.’
Colonel Black now stepped forward. Even though Bugsy had been the first to trace the email, he let this fact pass. There were far more important matters than point scoring against the Secret Service Director. ‘My team also scrubbed the video’s audio track and identified a “Call to Prayer” sounding in the background.’ The colonel replayed the short piece of enhanced recording over the Situation Room’s speakers and an echoing chant, barely audible above the hiss and general noise of the video, filled the room. ‘This particular one is quite distinctive to the region.’
President Mendez nodded. ‘So where exactly do you suspect my daughter is being held?’
‘CIA have eyes on the ground there,’ explained Karen. ‘They report there’s been increased activity at a location on the outskirts of the city.’
An aerial view of an arid plain and mud-brick city zoomed in to a large building surrounded by a walled compound. The real-time satellite feed revealed four figures patrolling the perimeter.
‘I’ve a Navy SEAL unit stationed just off the coast of Yemen,’ announced General Shaw. ‘They can be at the target within twenty minutes by attack helicopter.’
‘How certain are you my daughter’s there?’ asked President Mendez, studying the aerial shot of the building intently, not daring to let hope enter his heart just yet.
‘We can’t be one hundred per cent,’ admitted Dirk, ‘but all the indications are strong. An infra-red satellite scan indicated people inside and there were a few suspicious cold spots within the building too.’