He shook his head. ‘A deal is a deal.’
‘It wasn’t on the island,’ Herrick snapped.
Loz turned with one hand still restraining Khan. ‘Shoot them if they talk. Shoot them…’
The rest of the sentence was obliterated by a crack of lightning overhead. The Empire State was tapping the storm and drawing its power to earth. The lights flickered again and then went out completely. Gibbons hurled himself at Foyzi. Eva went to the right, rolling and springing to her feet like a gymnast to deliver several ferocious kicks to Foyzi’s upper body, just as he loosed off three rapid close-range shots at Gibbons. The gun dropped from his hand with the final kick. Herrick dived for it and came to her feet, aiming at Loz, who had not moved from his position near the window. She glanced left and right. Gibbons was hit; Foyzi lay dead from stab wounds from a knife still in Gibbons’ hand.
Nathan Lyne ran panting to Harland’s room after being driven across London in an unmarked Special Branch police car that topped 100 mph on the flat of Park Lane.
Harland had put the phone down on Ollins a few minutes before. ‘She’s in the Empire State,’ he said, turning to his address book. ‘The FBI man left her in Loz’s old office. She’s there by herself. I’m calling a friend who was due to meet her.’
Nathan took the hospital phone and spoke on the open line to Vauxhall Cross. ‘You got all that?’ he said. ‘What floor?’
‘Sixty-fourth,’ said Harland, hearing the first rings on Eva’s phone.
Eva heard her phone ringing out in reception and prayed it would be her headquarters in Tel Aviv. She ran out and picked it up, together with the gun that Foyzi had taken from Gibbons.
‘Yes?’ she barked, turning back to the room.
‘It’s Bobby. Where are you?’
‘The Empire State.’
‘Isis kept her phone on. We heard something. Is Loz alive? What the hell’s happening?’
Eva went back into the room, where Herrick was on one knee beside Gibbons. ‘It’s okay,’ she said between breaths, ‘we disarmed them. Your friend is here. She’s got Loz and Khan covered.’
Harland began to speak, but Eva lowered the phone because Gibbons was saying something. His voice was a whisper. ‘If you say where we are, every fucking jackass cop will be here. We don’t have time for that. We don’t know what these men have planned. We can’t let them be arrested.’
‘You’re losing blood,’ said Herrick. ‘You need to get to a hospital.’
‘Forget that,’ said Gibbons. ‘Just get these bastards talking.’
Harland told Lyne what he’d just heard on Eva’s phone. ‘They’re with another man - an American. They seemed to have overpowered Loz. This man has been hit, I think. He’s insisting they don’t get help until they’ve found out what Loz was planning.’
Lyne frowned. ‘What the heck are they doing?’ He stopped and met Harland’s eyes, then spoke to Vauxhall Cross. ‘The situation is under control. Tell the FBI to hold off. This is very important.’
Eva put her phone on the table, went over to Loz and placed Gibbons’s gun at his temple. At the same moment, Herrick seized the end of the bed and wheeled it away from them.
The two women said nothing to each other. The situation was beyond words.
Herrick looked down into Khan’s eyes and murmured, ‘I’m sorry. I have to do this.’ Without thinking any more, she raised Foyzi’s gun, and brought the silencer and barrel down on Khan’s still-bloated right foot. He shrieked. She looked up at Loz. ‘Tell us the plan. Tell us where your men are. How many of them?’
Loz shook his head in disbelief. ‘You cannot do this.’
‘Hurt him again,’ said Gibbons from the floor.
Herrick aimed and struck again. Although she pulled the blow at the last moment, the scream lasted much longer and died only when Khan had run out of breath. She paused. Her hand slipped to Khan’s side and momentarily snatched at his hand and squeezed it. The pressure was returned.
Now Eva worked on Loz. ‘We’ve only just started. We will cause your friend unimaginable pain. Are there five men or more? Where are they? Stop his suffering.’
Loz hung his head and then shook it.
Eva nodded at Herrick, who hit Khan again.
Gibbons had dragged himself from the floor. Holding his stomach with both hands, he lurched to where the food and the candles were by the window, picked up a plastic bag, then made his way to Herrick and handed it to her. Then he threw himself across Khan’s body, pinning him to the bed. Herrick looked down at Khan and wrapped the bag over his head.
‘No!’ shouted Loz. ‘I will tell you.’
Eva stepped back and reached for the phone. ‘Can you hear this, Bobby?’
Harland told her he could.
‘Tell us what the plan is. Then we’ll let your friend breathe.’
‘There are six,’ mumbled Loz. ‘Three in New York. Two in London. One in Holland.’
Eva repeated this to the phone.
Khan’s legs were trembling and jerking in the air, as though he was suffering a seizure.
‘Let him breathe,’ pleaded Loz.
‘What’s your plan?’ Eva screamed. ‘What’s your goddam plan?’ She hit him on the ear with the gun.
He shook his head again.
Herrick was now aware of Gibbons whispering to her. He was pointing to the TV monitor on the floor. ‘The cops are in the other room,’ he hissed. She glanced down and saw the figures darting across both halves of the split screen. She held the bag tighter round Khan’s head. His right hand weakly tore at Gibbons’s back. The other flailed in the air near Herrick. His legs stopped moving.
Eva stepped back from Loz. ‘Tell us and you’ll save him.’
‘They are martyrs. Martyrs with explosive. You understand! Martyrs! You cannot stop martyrs who give their lives to the struggle!’
‘Suicide bombers with Semtex, men spreading disease and toxic agents?’
He did nothing and she repeated the question, screaming in his ear.
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘When’re they going to attack?’
‘They have passes for two o’clock.’
‘American or European time?’
Khan had now stopped moving completely.
‘Please! Let him breathe!’ Eva signalled to Herrick, who pulled the bag from Khan’s head.
‘American time - after the other attacks.’
‘There aren’t going to be any other attacks. Who are these men?’
‘You know some of their names,’ said Loz. ‘I will tell you everything if you let Khan live.’
He gave them the names, haltingly, as if he couldn’t quite remember, but soon they had six names, only three of which Herrick recognised. He repeated them slowly again while Eva held the phone to his mouth. Langer, Khalil, Al-Ayssid, Ajami Hossein, Mahmud Buktar and Iliyas Shar. One American, three Arabs and two Pakistanis. He told them the men’s details. Their phone numbers and addresses were on a laptop by the table, which none of them had noticed before. Everything was there, including his last message to the martyrs.
Herrick looked down at her victim and nodded to him. Only she and Khan knew that she’d punctured the bag with her fingernails before wrapping it around his head. Despite the ferocious assault on his feet, he had gone along with her and play-acted his suffocation. She bent down, stroked his hair and kissed him on the forehead. Her other hand went to Gibbons’ shoulder.
Loz saw all this. He looked perplexed for a moment, then seemed to understand. ‘The goddess Isis used the essence of Ra to defeat him,’ he said. ‘That is what you did to me. You used my essence - my love for Karim - to defeat me.’
Herrick heard this but was too concerned about Gibbons’ condition to reply. She tore to the reception area and bellowed into the corridor. Within seconds, the place filled with members of the SWAT team they’d seen on the CCTV. They pressed field dressings to Gibbons’ wounds and then four of them picked him up and rushed to the elevator bank. Ollins, who had come in behind the men, crouched down by Loz.
‘How much information have you got from him?’ he asked Eva quietly.
‘He’s told us there are six men, three to attack the UN building here, two in London and one in Holland.’
‘Where in London? The UN offices?’
Loz’s eyes had come to rest on the patterned rug a few feet away. ‘This has been my prayer mat since I was a small boy. It has been with me all these years.’ He smiled to himself. ‘It’s the only thing I have left.’
‘Forget the self-pitying shit,’ said Ollins. He took hold of Loz’s jaw and banged his head upwards against the wall. ‘Where in London? Where in Holland? How are they going to make these attacks at the United Nations?’
‘He can’t speak if you’re going to hold him like that,’ said Eva.
Ollins let go and Herrick took over. ‘You’ve got men at the Hague. Is that right? The War Crimes court, the Chemical Weapons Inspectorate - which part of the UN in Holland?’
‘You will not find these men.’ Loz worked his jaw from side to side as though recovering from Ollins’ assault, paused and turned to Herrick, his eyes locking onto hers with the strange, wild look she had seen on the island. He bit into something, winced and opened his mouth to reveal foaming saliva. Herrick grabbed his shoulders, more out of desperation than any hope of saving him. Then, with only the smallest convulsion, the cyanide capsule silently took his life. His head lolled sideways and a little stream of dribble ran from his mouth onto his chest.
Ollins swore and thumped the floor. Herrick sat back, shocked.
‘Is he gone?’ They turned to see Khan, his head raised from the bed. ‘Is he dead?’
‘Yes,’ said Eva.
Khan’s head sank back.
‘He killed himself because of the failure,’ said Eva. ‘He killed himself because he’d told us everything.’
‘What makes you so damned certain?’ asked Ollins.
‘Because this man lived to outwit people. Once he knew he was beaten there was no point in living. If anything was still going to happen, he surely would have waited until at least the end of tomorrow to see the realisation of his plans.’
Herrick stood up and looked over to Khan. ‘Are there any more surprises for us, Karim?’
‘Yes,’ he said at length. ‘The man called Langer.’
‘Larry Langer?’
‘Yes. Langer is waiting to kill the Secretary General. Jaidi got him a job at Sammi’s request six months ago. He has a pass that allows him anywhere in the building. He is waiting there now for Jaidi to meet the Israeli Ambassador to the United Nations for breakfast in his office.’ He stopped and looked up at Herrick. ‘If you bring me that computer, I will show you the other plans.’ His hand flopped out towards the laptop. ‘You see, Sammi told me everything because he trusted me. But you saved me, Isis Herrick, and now I will help you.’
Twenty-one days after that night in the Empire State building, Isis sat down for dinner with her father and Harland - effectively three generations of British Intelligence officers, as Munroe pointed out - at a pub in the Western Highlands. There were still several hours of daylight left, but they’d been forced to abandon fishing on the loch nearby because clouds of midges had risen when the wind dropped, making it impossible for them to concentrate. She glanced at Harland’s face, already covered with tiny red blotches from midge bites, but he still looked jubilant. An hour before, he had caught his first sea trout from the old wooden rowing boat they were using. It was a big specimen, weighing just under five pounds, which had snatched at the fly as he dragged it across a ripple on the water, then fought for its life for a full twenty minutes before being landed.
They had said little to each other during the day and now there was silence between them. Without warning, her father rose to his feet in the empty dining room and held his tumbler of whisky up to her and then to Harland.
‘This is to you two,’ he said. ‘And to the most remarkable intelligence operation of the last two decades.’
Harland smiled and, when Munroe sat down, raised his own glass to Isis. ‘It was your success.’
She couldn’t agree with them. She shook her head and stared down at the table mat.
‘What is it?’ her father asked. ‘Come along, spit it out.’
‘I hurt Khan… real pain… deliberately inflicted to get the information. That’s torture, whichever way you look at it.’
‘Yes, but even Khan understood why you had to do it,’ Harland told her. ‘Without it, those men would have caused havoc with their bombs and poisons and diseases. It was an operational necessity. You took the only course open to you in the circumstances. I know. I heard it all through Eva’s phone.’
‘Yes, but I did it without thinking. That’s how these things happen - you slip into them without realising the threshold you’ve crossed. I’m no different from The Doctor, or Gibbons for that matter.’
‘That’s the world we live in,’ said Munroe gently.