Imposter 13 Page 2

  What they did have was eyes on Faiz back in Muscat. Or at least on his apartment. He’d returned home before Cox and Salman had left the city, and had remained there since.

  The fact he was there, and seemingly just carrying on as normal, had to be a good thing, didn’t it?

  Cox traipsed over to the pile of rubble that had once passed as a building – perhaps more than one. No single wall was fully intact, though open angles remained in the remnants where doors and windows would once have stood.

  There were no signs of life, no signs that anyone had been here recently at all.

  Cox turned and scanned the surrounding area. The location was sheltered and almost fully enclosed by the hills around it.

  ‘Talk about fish in a barrel,’ Cox said, as much to herself as to Salman.

  She immediately regretted saying it. He was already doubting their sense in coming here.

  ‘Come again?’ he said.

  She looked over and saw him in the distance, at the top of the hill on the eastern side.

  ‘Yeah, I see what you mean,’ he said. ‘But the good news is, there’s no one else here, and the road we came in on is the only one.’

  She knew that already from the last time she’d been, but was comforted that Salman had come to the same conclusion.

  ‘Nothing you could get a vehicle across, anyway,’ Salman said. ‘It’s too rocky. If there’s an ambush here, they’ll be coming in the same way we did. If I’m over that side, I’ll get a good view of the track. A mile out at least.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Cox checked her watch. ‘May as well take up positions now then.’

  Cox retreated to the car but remained standing outside it. There was still more than twenty minutes until the planned meet, but not long after …

  ‘A single vehicle coming this way,’ Salman said.

  Cox’s nervousness rose. She looked up at the outline of Salman’s figure, partially in view to her, but hopefully obscured from the track by the rocks he was crouched behind. She could see he had binoculars up to his face.

  ‘Can you see who’s inside?’ she asked.

  ‘Too far away still,’ he said. ‘It’s a big car though. An Outlander I think.’

  And Thuriyah definitely had one of those. Though bizarrely hearing Salman’s words still made Cox that little bit more hesitant.

  ‘How far?’

  ‘Closing. A few hundred yards. Let me … OK I can see just one person up front. I mean … it looks like a woman. She’s wearing an abaya … ’

  ‘Is it Thuriyah?’

  A pause. ‘Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is. Coming your way. You should see the vehicle any second.’

  Cox could already hear the roar of the car’s thick tyres on the sand, and the rumble of its powerful diesel engine, but when the Outlander appeared at the top of the hill the sound carried down into the valley, reverberated around and became freakishly loud, only further adding to Cox’s angst.

  From where Cox was standing, the bonnet of the Land Cruiser was between her and Thuriyah’s Outlander. If she needed to she could dive into the driver’s seat and pound the accelerator within seconds.

  If …

  Cox took a step away from the Land Cruiser and waved casually. The Outlander was still fifty yards from her when suddenly it swung round ninety degrees to an abrupt stop. Thuriyah’s window faced down the hill to Cox, who could make out her ‘friend’ clearly for the first time. It was definitely her. Yet that was of little relief to Cox, who could see how rattled the woman was, even at this distance.

  ‘Still nothing else coming this way?’ Cox asked Salman as she kept her eyes on Thuriyah.

  ‘Nothing. This is it. What is she doing?’

  It was a good question. Thuriyah was looking down at her lap. Her lips were moving as her head slowly bobbed back and forth. Was she praying?

  ‘Cox, this is insane. Get in the car and drive off.’

  ‘Leave you here?’

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘She’s getting out.’

  The driver’s door to the Outlander opened. Cox braced herself, but didn’t move from where she was. Thuriyah took an age to step out into the open. An ankle length black abaya covered her body, a hijab covered her head and shoulders. Her face, and the fearful look on it, remained clear to see.

  ‘Thuriyah, what’s happening?’ Cox shouted over.

  Thuriyah straightened up and looked over to Cox.

  ‘What the fuck is she doing?’ Salman said.

  ‘Thuriyah, talk to me,’ Cox shouted.

  ‘I have it.’

  Cox paused.

  ‘The information?’

  ‘Yes. It’s all here.’

  Cox took a step closer. ‘Show me,’ she shouted.

  ‘Cox, come on, don’t be stupid,’ Salman said.

  Thuriyah nodded and edged down the bank towards Cox. She moved gingerly. One of her hands just far enough round her back that Cox couldn’t see it.

  ‘What’s in your hand?’ Cox said.

  ‘The information. I need to give it to you. Then I have to go. For good.’

  Cox didn’t move now. Thuriyah kept on coming forward. She was only fifteen yards away and Cox could see the sweat droplets glistening on her forehead. Her bottom lip quivered. Cox looked her up and down. Her whole body was shaking in fact.

  ‘Thuriyah, stop there.’

  Thuriyah didn’t.

  ‘Stop!’

  Thuriyah paused.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Cox said. ‘Please. Does Faiz know?’

  Mention of her husband knocked Thuriyah’s determination, but only for a second. She began moving again.

  ‘Cox, she’s got something.’

  ‘I know she fucking has!’ she blasted, her words to her unseen colleague only adding to Thuriyah’s jitters. ‘It’s OK, I’ve got a colleague here, but he’s for the safety of both of us.’

  ‘I told you to come alone.’

  ‘Thuriyah, show me what’s in your hand? A thumb drive? A disc? What is it?’

  Thuriyah moved forward with more purpose. Her arm twitched and moved away from her side a couple of inches.

  Cox realised for the first time what was wrong with the young woman’s appearance. The clothes, they were fine – exactly the type of clothing Thuriyah always wore. But the bulge around her waist...

  ‘Thuriyah, stop there!’ Cox shouted. ‘Please. I can still help you. Just tell me what’s happening.’

  Thuriyah didn’t stop this time. Tears streamed down her face.

  ‘Show me what’s in your hand!’

  Thuriyah shook her head. She was only a few steps away and Cox shuffled back.

  ‘Please don’t do this,’ Cox said.

  But by now Thuriyah was in some sort of trance. Her steps quickened. Cox looked to the woman’s hand. Saw the metallic flash as the sun hit the object.

  Then there was a boom and a thwack as a small hole was pierced in Thuriyah’s shoulder. Her face twitched. She stumbled forward.

  ‘No! Salman, for fuck’s sake!’

  ‘Cox get the fuck away!’

  She wanted to help the woman, but instead she backstepped.

  Another gunshot, another thwack as the bullet hit Thuriyah in the back and she dropped to her knees. Her hand came forward to stop herself falling flat on her face. For the first time Cox got a full glimpse of what she was clutching. Not a flash drive or a disc or anything of the sort.

  A dead man’s switch.

  ‘Cox, move!’

  Cox’s eyes met Thuriyah’s. She was sure she mouthed the word ‘sorry’. The next second her palm opened, releasing the pressure from the switch. Cox was mid-air, diving behind the Land Cruiser, as the crude bomb exploded.

  CHAPTER 3

  ‘Faiz did this,’ Cox stammered as Salman raced the Land Cruiser away from the farm, the vehicle jumping and clanking on its suspension as they went.

  She wiped a tear from her eye and felt the streak of dirt and soot that doing so left across
her cheek. She looked down at her clothes, covered in mess, soot, grit, dust, darker patches of blood from the lumps of chargrilled flesh that had flown through the air at her when the explosion had obliterated Thuriyah. She had to fight to keep her emotions in check, swallowed down hard and clenched her fists so tight her nails cut into the skin on her palms.

  ‘Faiz did this,’ Cox said again. ‘We have to get him.’

  Again, her statement was met with silence.

  ‘Would you just say something!’ she shouted.

  She looked over at Salman whose eyes remained on the track ahead.

  ‘I hear you,’ Flannigan said, his voice crackling in her ear. ‘I’m sorry.’

  The last thing she needed now was his pity.

  ‘Please,’ Flannigan said, ‘talk me through it again. Tell me everything.’

  Cox closed her eyes as she thought back to the scene. How Thuriyah had been just yards away when the blast went off. How the Land Cruiser had saved Cox from a similarly gory fate. How she and Salman had quickly searched Thuriyah’s car and the few bits of what was left that resembled a corpse before promptly leaving.

  ‘Cox?’

  She talked Flannigan through it. Again. She knew his request wasn’t some morbid curiosity. Him getting her to recount the fatal incident was both for analysis and to help focus her mind.

  ‘When she first arrived, she didn’t get out of the car immediately,’ Cox said.

  ‘She was setting the switch,’ Salman said. ‘The explosives were already on her, but the switch had to be set. She hadn’t driven all that way clutching it.’

  ‘She set it herself?’ Flannigan said. ‘Why would she do that?’

  Cox thought for a moment.

  ‘She wouldn’t. Not of her own accord.’

  ‘Someone forced her to?’ Flannigan said. ‘With what leverage?’

  ‘The intention was to kill her and me.’

  ‘But you’re saying she didn’t want to.’

  ‘No. She was forced to.’

  ‘There was no one else there,’ Salman said, his sour tone riling Cox.

  ‘No, there wasn’t,’ Cox said. ‘But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t someone else’s hand that made her do it. Perhaps she was given an ultimatum. Faiz found out about her. From that point on she was a dead woman and she knew it. But they didn’t just want her dead. If that was the case they would have already killed her. They wanted me dead too.’

  ‘And she just agreed to take you out at the same time?’ Salman said. ‘Why?’

  ‘No,’ Cox said, not hiding that she was becoming riled. ‘I imagine they blackmailed her. Perhaps they’re holding someone close to her hostage too. If she didn’t kill me, they’d kill the hostage.’

  Which only made Cox feel all the worse. Had saving herself just signed someone else’s death warrant?

  ‘We don’t know any of that,’ Flannigan said.

  ‘We don’t. I’m just thinking this through,’ Cox said. ‘But there is one way we can find out.’

  ‘What?’ Flannigan said.

  ‘You want us to try and capture Faiz?’ Salman said, not sounding particularly happy by the prospect of more action.

  ‘He tried to have me killed!’

  ‘And your objective in Oman is not one of personal revenge,’ Flannigan said.

  ‘Faiz was sitting at home watching TV,’ Salman added. ‘He still is. If you’re saying Thuriyah was put up to this under duress, it wasn’t by him––’

  ‘Then he instructed it,’ Cox said.

  ‘Instructed others.’

  ‘What’s the fucking difference! The man is an extremist, his wife just tried to kill me, and he needs to be stopped!’

  Salman said nothing to that. Cox could tell he was pissed off too. Given Thuriyah’s secret must have been blown, he was in danger now too, simply by association with Cox. But she had been a direct target, she firmly believed, and as long as Faiz and whoever he worked for were still out there, she remained a target. She could skulk off back to England or wherever else to escape their ire – and perhaps that’s what Salman wanted to do – but she’d much rather stand and fight.

  ‘Did Thuriyah have any information that could directly identify you?’ Flannigan asked.

  ‘Of course not. She only knew me by aliases. It’s possible someone at some point could have got a picture of me with her, but that’s it.’

  ‘Understood. But we do still need to know exactly what she’s told, and who she’s told it to. This is now damage limitation as much as it is finding out intel on whatever cell Faiz is working with.’

  ‘Then Faiz has to be the place to start.’

  A sigh from Flannigan. Salman said nothing, just stared straight ahead, though Cox could tell he was clenching his jaw – in anger?

  Salman’s phone buzzed. He lifted it from his lap and glanced at the screen before extending his hand to Cox. She took the phone without either of them saying a word and stared at the message on the screen.

  ‘Faiz is on the move,’ Cox said. ‘Seen leaving his apartment with a holdall.’

  ‘He’s running?’ Flannigan said.

  ‘Running, leaving, changing location. It doesn’t make a difference. If we want him, we need to move now before we lose him.’

  A momentary pause.

  ‘We just need your word,’ Cox said.

  ‘Get him,’ Flannigan said. ‘But you can’t stay in Muscat now. Take him to the safe house in Nizwa. I’ll try my best to expedite an extraction somewhere else.’

  ‘Got it,’ Cox said before there was a click as Flannigan dropped off the line.

  Cox looked over to Salman who she could tell remained pissed off.

  ‘You’d better call Mazin back,’ he said. ‘Make sure he doesn’t let Faiz out of his sight before we catch up.’

  ‘This is the right thing to do,’ Cox said.

  ‘Probably,’ Salman said. ‘But I really hope Flannigan finds us a nice place to take Faiz to. Somewhere with a beach. And a spa. And some cocktails with little umbrellas. Working with you, I really need a fucking holiday.’

  Cox said nothing to that, just held back a smile as she put the phone to her ear.

  CHAPTER 4

  Darkness had descended by the time Cox and Salman reached the outskirts of the port town of Suhar. It had soon become apparent from Mazin – their eyes in Muscat – that the target was leaving the capital. To where, who knew. Mazin had been lucky enough to be able to follow on his motorbike when Faiz was picked up in a car not far from his apartment building, and driven straight out of the city.

  Travelling at speed from the hinterland, Cox and Salman were only twenty minutes behind Mazin as they traced a path to the coast and then northward to Suhar. Next to her Salman remained focused on driving and they chatted little, though he at least appeared slightly less sullen and angry as time wore on.

  Cox had never been to the northern city of Suhar before, and as they traced around the outskirts in the night, it was difficult to see much of what it was about. She knew from her own research and briefing notes on Oman that the ancient once-capital of the country had more recently had a heavy industrial focus – in particular, ongoing investment in its port facilities, given the town’s strategic location on the Gulf of Oman, long an important gateway for trade routes between Asia and Europe. It was no surprise therefore when they heard from Mazin that the port seemed to be where Faiz was headed.

  ‘Wait. They’ve stopped,’ Mazin said, his voice tinny and grating through the speaker of Salman’s phone.

  ‘At the port?’

  ‘Not quite. We’re on a connector road. Looks like a hotel or something, a mile or so south of the port. The place looks … derelict.’

  ‘Give me the name,’ Cox said, before going to her own phone and opening the map. ‘They’re still in the car?’

  ‘No. Faiz and another man are out. Faiz has his bag. They’re heading inside.’

  ‘Who’s the other man?’

  ‘I can’t tell.’ br />
  ‘Can you get a picture?’

  ‘Too late, I’m too far away. And it’s too dark anyway.’

  Salman’s phone beeped. Low battery. After all, he’d been in constant contact with Mazin for hours.

  ‘I need to end the call,’ Cox said. ‘If he moves, let me know. Otherwise we’ll see you there shortly.’

  She hit the red button.

  They arrived on the road connecting to the docks not long after. It was all quiet at night. Mazin had pulled his motorbike over onto the verge at the side of the road. Salman stopped behind him and switched the engine and the lights off. Mazin came over and jumped into the back seat of the Land Cruiser.

  Cox had met Mazin only a few times. He was Salman’s man really. A local, barely out of his teens, who worked errands for a not insubstantial amount of cash, no questions asked. This was probably the most excitement he’d ever had, more used to simply sitting and spying. Cox felt nervous about him being there now, this was certainly a big step up from his normal role, given they were planning on confronting and kidnapping Faiz. She only hoped his presence wouldn’t come to hurt them.

  ‘They’re still inside,’ Mazin said.

  ‘Any idea how many others?’ Cox asked.

  ‘I haven’t seen anyone else coming or going. And there are no other cars that I can see.’

  ‘Have you driven past?’

  ‘No.’

  Cox thought for a moment.

  ‘What is he doing in there?’ Salman asked, though Cox presumed it was rhetorical.

  ‘We have two options,’ Cox said. ‘We sit and wait, or we go over and get him.’

  Silence.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Or, option three,’ Salman said. ‘One of us goes and takes a closer look. Scope the place out properly before we make the next move.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Mazin said, reaching for his door handle. Cox thought about protesting but didn’t. If he was happy with the risk … ‘If anyone sees me, far easier for me to explain who I am than either of you two.’