Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(91)

‘I thought she and the Prince of Wales were on holiday at Highgrove,’ commented the Prime Minister as she looked at a map that had been placed on the centre of the table.

‘As does the rest of the outside world,’ said Holbrooke, ‘and I’d like to keep it that way.’ He touched a button on his console, and a photograph of Lowlander, with two inflatable dinghies floating from its stern, filled a large screen that dominated the wall at the far end of the room.

‘How did you get hold of that?’ asked the Cabinet Secretary, who was seated on the PM’s left.

‘A paparazzi photographer was on the beach at the time the raid took place, and the Spanish police were able to retrieve his camera.’

‘That was a lucky break,’ suggested the Cabinet Secretary.

‘Not for him,’ said Holbrooke. ‘He ended up with a bullet through his forehead.’

‘What was he doing there at that time of night?’ asked the Prime Minister.

‘He would have been working for one of the tabloids and must have been aware the Princess was on board the yacht. Luckily for us,’ continued Holbrooke, ‘he’d already taken several photographs before he was murdered. His body was found by a local fisherman. The Spanish police also dug up a .54mm bullet which was embedded in the sand near his camera. The type favoured by trained assassins.’

Several voices began speaking at once, until the Prime Minister waved a dismissive hand and nodded at Holbrooke.

‘We had no way of knowing who killed the photographer,’ continued Holbrooke, ‘until we received the pictures he’d taken last night.’

The image of the yacht on the screen was replaced by a young white woman’s face.

‘Who’s she?’ asked the Prime Minister.

‘Ruth Cairns,’ said the head of MI6. ‘She was born in Wakefield, and studied politics at Manchester University. But she dropped out, and disappeared for almost a decade, until recently, when she came to our attention following a signals intercept. She now goes by the name of Nasreen Hassan, and has become one of Gaddafi’s most trusted lieutenants.’ A short video showing a woman beheading an American serviceman in front of a cheering mob left them all in no doubt what they were up against.

‘Cairns appears to be in charge of the operation,’ said Holbrooke.

‘How many terrorists were involved in the attack?’ asked the Foreign Secretary, speaking for the first time.

‘There were only a couple of RIBs involved, so there can’t have been more than a dozen at most,’ replied Holbrooke. ‘We think we’ve identified five of them who have records with our intelligence agencies.’

A succession of mugshots appeared on the screen, as Holbrooke briefed the COBRA meeting on who the suspects were, and the roles they were likely to have played in the operation. The next photograph to appear on screen was of two men dressed in black, standing on the bridge of the yacht. ‘We think this has to be their captain and his number two, because they bear no resemblance to the five officers who sailed the yacht out of Mallorca on Friday evening.’

‘Should we assume that the crew of the yacht are all dead?’ asked the Prime Minister.

‘Probably. Hassan doesn’t believe in taking prisoners, especially when an unmarked grave is so conveniently on hand. But I’m confident the Princess is still alive, otherwise they’ve lost their bargaining power.’

‘Bargaining suggests money or an exchange for something else,’ suggested the Prime Minister. ‘In your view, Assistant Commissioner, which is it?’

‘Not something else, ma’am, someone else. Hassan wouldn’t be interested in money,’ Holbrooke assured them, ‘otherwise it would have been Jamil Chalabi, the Princess’s latest … companion, they were after, and not the Princess.’

‘What makes you so sure of that?’ asked the Cabinet Secretary.

‘Chalabi is the son of a wealthy businessman from Dubai,’ came in Commander Hawksby. ‘He’s a regular in the gossip columns, usually described as a multi-millionaire playboy or serial party-goer. According to Inspector Ross Hogan, the Princess’s personal protection officer, he’s not shy about letting anyone, including the press, know about his relationship with her.’

‘If you don’t think it’s money they’re after in exchange for the Princess,’ asked the Cabinet Secretary, ‘what else could it possibly be?’

‘We’re currently holding Gaddafi’s right-hand man, Mansour Khalifah, in Belmarsh prison,’ said Hawksby. ‘So I don’t think we need to look much further than Thamesmead.’

‘You will recall, Prime Minister,’ chipped in the Attorney General, ‘that I sanctioned Khalifah’s arrest a few months ago when he landed at Heathrow on the way to Moscow.’

‘We’re in no doubt,’ added the Home Secretary, ‘that Khalifah was behind the Lockerbie bombing, and more recently the failed attempt to blow up the Albert Hall during the Last Night of the Proms. Don’t be surprised if Gaddafi has put him in charge of any negotiations.’

‘We don’t negotiate with terrorists,’ said the Prime Minister, as if addressing a public meeting. But on this occasion, no one around the table believed her.

Several people began talking at once, but were silenced when the Prime Minister turned her attention to the Chief of the Defence Staff. ‘So, what do you recommend we do next, Admiral?’