buzzed, and Dillon pushed open the door. Roper was seated at his computer bank in his wheelchair.
"I've had Ferguson on the line. He told me about Loch Dhu, but I'd like to hear it from you."
Dillon lit a cigarette and told him. "So there you are. Pretty much as we thought."
"So it would appear."
"What have you got? Anything new?"
"Well, I thought I'd see if I could trace Kate Rashid's travel patterns. She uses a company Gulfstream, so I can access times easily enough--air traffic slots have to be booked--and I can ascertain when she's been on board through Passport Control and Special Branch."
"Any significant pattern?"
"Not much. She's only been up to Loch Dhu once recently. Used the same old airstrip you did. Here's something that might be interesting, though: She went to last month."
"Now that is interesting. Any thoughts on where she went?"
"Yes. She landed late afternoon and had a slot booked back to Heathrow the following afternoon, so that seemed to indicate a hotel for the night. So I started with the Europa, accessed their booking records, and there she was."
"And why was she there?"
Roper shook his head. "That I don't know. But if she does it again, I'll let you know. You could follow her. Of course, it could be perfectly legitimate. Rashid Investments has taken a big stake in Ulster since peace broke out."
"Peace?" Dillon laughed harshly. "Believe that, you'll believe anything."
"I agree with you. After all, I was the one who defused a hundred and two bombs. Too bad it wasn't a hundred and three." He patted the arm of the wheelchair.
"I know," Dillon said. "You know, considering I was on the other side, I sometimes wonder why you put up with me."
"You were never a bomb man, Sean. Anyway, I like you." He shrugged. "By the way, if you want a drink, there's a bottle of white wine in the fridge over there. It's all I'm allowed."
Dillon groaned. "God help me, but it will do to take along." He got the bottle from the fridge. "Jesus, Roper, it's so cheap it's got a screw top."
"Don't moan about it, pour it. I'm a reserve officer on pension."
Dillon obeyed, and put a glass at Roper's right hand while Roper played with the keys. Dillon took a swallow and made a face. "I think someone made this in the backyard. What are you looking at now?"
"Rupert Dauncey. Quite a character, but nothing we don't know about him yet. There's something about him, though, a ruthlessness, always on the edge. There's a dark side to that one."
"Ah, well there's a dark side to all of us. Can you tell if he was with Kate on the Irish trip?"
"There are Special Branch regulations regarding passengers on executive jets. He wasn't on board. He's a comparatively new arrival to her entourage, remember."
"I suppose so."
Roper drank some wine. "However, he is on board tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, with the Countess. Would you like to know where they're going?"
"Where?"
"Hazar."
"Hazar, hmm? That means Hamam airport. You know, the RAF built it in the old days. There's only one runway, but it can take anything, even a Hercules. Check on something for me. Last time I was there, we used an outfit called Carver Air Transport. See if they're still there."
Roper tapped his keys. "Yes, they are. Ben Carver? Ex-Squadron Leader in the RAF?"
"The old sod," Dillon said. "So what's Kate up to?"
"That's what Ferguson asked when I told him. Of course, there are a dozen different reasons why she could be going down there, but Ferguson said he would contact Tony Villiers, ask him to keep an eye on her." Colonel Tony Villiers was the Commander of the Hazar Scouts.
"That should help. Villiers is good, and he isn't particularly keen on the Rashids since they skinned his second-in-command, Bronsby."
"Yes, they do have their little ways. Now go away, Dillon. I've got work to do."
A t that moment, on the border between Hazar and the Empty Quarter, Tony Villiers was encamped with a dozen of his Hazar Scouts and three Land Rovers. A small fire of
"I've had Ferguson on the line. He told me about Loch Dhu, but I'd like to hear it from you."
Dillon lit a cigarette and told him. "So there you are. Pretty much as we thought."
"So it would appear."
"What have you got? Anything new?"
"Well, I thought I'd see if I could trace Kate Rashid's travel patterns. She uses a company Gulfstream, so I can access times easily enough--air traffic slots have to be booked--and I can ascertain when she's been on board through Passport Control and Special Branch."
"Any significant pattern?"
"Not much. She's only been up to Loch Dhu once recently. Used the same old airstrip you did. Here's something that might be interesting, though: She went to last month."
"Now that is interesting. Any thoughts on where she went?"
"Yes. She landed late afternoon and had a slot booked back to Heathrow the following afternoon, so that seemed to indicate a hotel for the night. So I started with the Europa, accessed their booking records, and there she was."
"And why was she there?"
Roper shook his head. "That I don't know. But if she does it again, I'll let you know. You could follow her. Of course, it could be perfectly legitimate. Rashid Investments has taken a big stake in Ulster since peace broke out."
"Peace?" Dillon laughed harshly. "Believe that, you'll believe anything."
"I agree with you. After all, I was the one who defused a hundred and two bombs. Too bad it wasn't a hundred and three." He patted the arm of the wheelchair.
"I know," Dillon said. "You know, considering I was on the other side, I sometimes wonder why you put up with me."
"You were never a bomb man, Sean. Anyway, I like you." He shrugged. "By the way, if you want a drink, there's a bottle of white wine in the fridge over there. It's all I'm allowed."
Dillon groaned. "God help me, but it will do to take along." He got the bottle from the fridge. "Jesus, Roper, it's so cheap it's got a screw top."
"Don't moan about it, pour it. I'm a reserve officer on pension."
Dillon obeyed, and put a glass at Roper's right hand while Roper played with the keys. Dillon took a swallow and made a face. "I think someone made this in the backyard. What are you looking at now?"
"Rupert Dauncey. Quite a character, but nothing we don't know about him yet. There's something about him, though, a ruthlessness, always on the edge. There's a dark side to that one."
"Ah, well there's a dark side to all of us. Can you tell if he was with Kate on the Irish trip?"
"There are Special Branch regulations regarding passengers on executive jets. He wasn't on board. He's a comparatively new arrival to her entourage, remember."
"I suppose so."
Roper drank some wine. "However, he is on board tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, with the Countess. Would you like to know where they're going?"
"Where?"
"Hazar."
"Hazar, hmm? That means Hamam airport. You know, the RAF built it in the old days. There's only one runway, but it can take anything, even a Hercules. Check on something for me. Last time I was there, we used an outfit called Carver Air Transport. See if they're still there."
Roper tapped his keys. "Yes, they are. Ben Carver? Ex-Squadron Leader in the RAF?"
"The old sod," Dillon said. "So what's Kate up to?"
"That's what Ferguson asked when I told him. Of course, there are a dozen different reasons why she could be going down there, but Ferguson said he would contact Tony Villiers, ask him to keep an eye on her." Colonel Tony Villiers was the Commander of the Hazar Scouts.
"That should help. Villiers is good, and he isn't particularly keen on the Rashids since they skinned his second-in-command, Bronsby."
"Yes, they do have their little ways. Now go away, Dillon. I've got work to do."
A t that moment, on the border between Hazar and the Empty Quarter, Tony Villiers was encamped with a dozen of his Hazar Scouts and three Land Rovers. A small fire of
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