BOOK 2: COMMUNITY / CH. 27:REMOVALS
SATURDAY EVENING
The ambassadors, with their military attaches had decided that the easiest way to avoid chain of command issues was that each of the four countries that had sufficiently strong forces at their embassies to be easily involved in implementing the rescue was to have a separate target. That worked out quite well, as there were four prisons being used by Ibrahim. The only question was where the rescued prisoners would be taken.
In the end, the French embassy was chosen. They did not have such a large force that they could contribute to the rescue, but they proudly offered to provide unmatched catering. The rescued prisoners would be reunited with their families, fed exquisite food, checked over medically and asked about their captors. Hagar would invite the families.
The whole operation would happen that evening, as soon as the local forces roused by the president could arrive at the respective embassies. It might not be quite as convenient for the families, but there didn't seem to be any need to wait.
All of these other plans meant that Karen's reception ended sooner than Deborah had expected. There would be another hour of light at least.
“Come, Deborah. Tonight is a night for righting wrongs. Let us confront your enemies.”
“In this dress?”
“What is wrong with your mother's dress? You surely do not expect to move furniture yourself, when there will be six strong soldiers around?”
“But the van...?”
“You do not sit in the van, child. You ride in my official car, as is fitting. All the arrangements are made. Come!”
“You surprise me once more, my elder cousin.”
“Such is the nature of rule, Deborah. Surprise brings joy to friends and terror to enemies.”
“I do not count Adam's parents as enemies.”
“You should. They have declared war on your happiness. It does not mean they cannot be turned, but they are not friends.”
“No. They are not friends.”
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The large, almost silent presidential car pulled to a halt outside the house. It was a reasonably prosperous neighbourhood, with each house having its own garden and flower beds, even if the houses were not more than a few small rooms. The pride was obvious. The soldiers ran to either side of the door, surprisingly quiet. Deborah knocked on the door and stood back. The president was to one side. Not exactly hiding, but when the door opened he would not be immediately visible. That was the way Deborah had wanted it. Bravery or foolishness? The next few moments would show.
Adam's father opened the door.
“You! You came here, you enchantress! How dare you!”
“You have banished your son, my betrothed, but not me. I ask that you reconsider. But if you will not, then I have come for the possessions that the law says he may take.”
“How dare you come in that stolen dress and flaunt yourself here! You should be ashamed, you pauper slut! May you and the son you've stolen from me die before the week is out! You might have won my foolish son's desire, but you shall never enter this place again.”
“The dress was my mother's.”
“No doubt your good-for-nothing father stole it for her then!”
At this, the president stepped forward.
“Do you have any idea who stands before you, you ignorant man?” In shock Adam's father stuttered, “Most honourable sir, you are my president!”
“Not me, brainless one, I mean the daughter of my friend, who I have watched over as my daughter since her father died! The virgin you have insulted is daughter to the wisest man to have lived in our country for many decades! You are not fit to grovel before her, you insolent ball of slime! She is daughter to the great Daniel Asaf, who brought the troubles to an end by his wisdom and probably saved you from dying in the years of conflict he prevented! And yet you insult her and her father! You who thinks the baker's daughter a better match for your son! She has been in your house, but you did not ask who she was? Your son tells of her perspicacity of thought, but you make no inquiry? The man who returned the inheritance of twenty million that he had from my uncle to my family, because he felt he had no true claim to it though it was his by law, you name a thief! You should grovel on the floor before the betrothed of your son, that she may use you as a doormat! She will not, because for some reason she seeks harmony of relationship with you. Personally I would order your house bulldozed for the insults you have offered my cousin. But I know she does not wish this either. She is too forgiving. It is not wise, but it is Christian, so I do not fault her in it. Now you know who she is, worm! What do you say? Will your face glow with pride at the modest flower of our nation who graces your home? Or will you continue in your grubby little insanity and leave yourself childless?”
“I did not know!”
“You did not seek to find out,” Deborah said coolly. “It is not wise to boast of one's relatives. It opens one to other temptations. But I have always known my father's name and that he was a politician and a friend of the honourable president. But you have never asked. Adam knew, but you did not ask him either. It would not have been seemly for him to tell what you did not want to learn, so he kept silent, eagerly waiting for the day when you would ask. But you did not.
“So, do I take his things, never to set foot here again? Or do you wish to see the wise son you have fathered marry, and eventually dangle your grandchildren on your knee? Will you retract the curses that you spoke against us, before the God of Abraham whom we serve curses you because of them? From love for your son I pray that God forgives you those words.”
Adam's mother stepped forward, her eyes wild. “I see through your poisonous words, you temptress. You are trying to ingratiate yourself back in my house, but it will never happen! Never! You must die!” And with this she flung herself towards Deborah with a large kitchen knife in her hand.
The soldier on her left quickly wrestled her to the ground, but amazingly she threw him off, and uttering more curses went for Deborah again. Four soldiers piled into her, one receiving a nasty cut from the knife she was waving before he managed to disarm her. She continued screaming curses against Deborah and Adam. Then she widened her targets to include her husband, the president and also Jesus.
“She must be demon possessed!” said one of the soldiers, the one she had thrown off the first time, who was now struggling to hold down one hand.
Deborah realised that this was quite possibly true. “Father, protect us!” she prayed earnestly, then she commanded, “Demon, in the name of the one true God who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, I command you to leave and never return!”
A terrible guttural screech came from Adam's mother's mouth, seemingly without end.
Deborah shouted once more in words that seemed to come to her, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth to which all creation must bow, leave this woman and this earth, never to return. Begone!”
Then there was silence. Deborah quietly prayed her thanks to God, shaking with the adrenaline that had filled her. After a while, a gentle sobbing could be heard, then, between sobs, Adam's mother said, “Thank you, Deborah, thank you! Blessed be the one by whose name you healed me. How did I hate you so much? Thank you, young men for restraining me.”
“Yes, thank you, soldiers, I don't think she is dangerous now,” Deborah said. “See to your wounds.”
Seeing the wound she had inflicted, Adam's mother was shocked. “Oh no! I did that also? An ambulance must be called! I have bandages! Oh husband, how did I hate so much? Were you also under the influence of an evil spirit that you would go along with the evil I spoke in the last months?”
“I think I just listened to your hate, my wife. We must speak more of this, Deborah. I retract all I said against you and Adam. Of course I do. I ask forgiveness.”
“Hatred is a terrible thing, and it often comes from wounded pride. I know Adam's Bible is in the house. Honoured parents of my betrothed, I beg you, read the gospels so you may understand by whose name the demon was cast out. Shall I ask Adam to return home?”
“Of course, and you are welcome here, betrothed of my son! How could you not be? This house is your house, may it give you shade in the day and protection at night. May you never know tears without comfort or fear within its walls. May you find shelter in the arms of my son all the days of your life, may God give you joy in your children and peace as you allow us to care for them.” Then having said the traditional blessing, he turned to the president. “I humbly thank you, most honourable president, that you stooped to rebuke a worm such as I. Your words have restored my family to wholeness and I shall indeed treasure this flower of our nation. I offer no excuse for my insults, for they are inexcusable, but I beg your forgiveness.”
“As long as you stand by your word to honour and cherish my relative, we have no argument. I must leave. Deborah, shall I take you home?”
“I think it is best. Honoured parents of my betrothed, I must leave. There will be more time for discussion tomorrow and the coming days.”
“Go in peace, return in peace. Apologise to our son, I beg you. We have hurt him greatly.”
Deborah bowed her head in acknowledgement.
As they headed to the car, Deborah asked, “I saw a handset in the car. Might I use it to tell my betrothed he should return home?”
“Of course. You must get a wrist unit, Deborah, I may need to contact you.”
“Yes, I have thought of this. But there seem to be such a confusing array of options!”
“The options are for the proud. Just get one you like the look of and can read the text on. And the most basic connection is all you will need.”
“But then it is not so expensive to get one! I thought there was a problem with the basic models or that basic connection was insufficient!”
“No. Ask your friend Hagar to ask at the embassy. I am sure they will give the same advice. Or look at the films and television — everyone there has one who can read. It need not be a status symbol more than a pair of shoes is. Yes, you can spend a month's salary on a pair of shoes, but there is no need to.”
“Ah, I see. And it is only because we have not bought shoes, and have no idea what a reasonable shoe costs that we are put off by the exorbitant prices we see in the adverts for the brands most fashionable in other countries?”
“Yes, exactly.”
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“Adam, go home. Your father apologises for listening to the hate that came from your mother's mouth. Your mother was not the one speaking that hatred.”
“What do you mean, beloved?”
“I have this evening seen a woman throw a soldier off her as though he was a child, then scream curses upon you, me and Christ.”
“My mother was possessed? You cast it out?”
“I did, Adam. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. I think I must go there to talk to Hagar and pastor Yosuf.”
“Hagar is not here, she stayed on at the embassy. Here, talk to Yosuf.”
“Deborah, did I hear right? You had to face a possessed woman? Adam's mother?”
“Yes, pastor. She came at me with a knife, threw off the first soldier like a man could a child, and then four soldiers struggled to hold her down. She'd been cursing me and then began cursing Adam too and Christ. I was shocked and then one of the soldiers said she had a demon, and I knew it was true. I commanded the demon to leave in the name of the Holy Trinity, and it wailed, and then again in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth to leave and never to return. After it had gone she praised the one by whose name she had been saved. I begged them to read the gospels. They welcomed me. Urm, I think the president convinced Adam's father that I was worth my weight in gold. Could you go with Adam?”
“Yes, Deborah, I shall. And you're worth more than that. Think of the price Christ paid for you. But Deborah, you are at risk. The forces of evil will try to attack you after this, I am sure. Can you stay with a friend, another Christian? With Hagar gone it cannot be here.”
“I don't know. So many from church are in small homes, without a guest room.”
Adam's voice came on the line. “You have a new friend with a large home, Deborah. Karen!”
“But I cannot ask to stay at the embassy!”
“Of course you can, my cousin. I am sorry to have eavesdropped, but if you need a safe place amongst Christians, there is no better place I can think of. I will call my friend. And I would like to talk to him about what I witnessed too. It takes a lot to shock me, but when she threw the soldier off... well.. thank you for banishing it!”
“I will not say it was a pleasure, but I am very pleased it obeyed without arguing further.”
“Your words might give me nightmares, my cousin.”
“I will pray they do not, elder cousin. I think I will do a lot of praying this night.”
“You have a powerful faith.”
“No, cousin. I have a powerful God. If my faith were strong I would not still be shaking.”
“We could pretend it is the cool evening.”
“Why lie? We have witnessed a possessed woman coming towards us wielding a big knife. Throwing a soldier like a toy. That is scary. I wonder how your soldiers will handle it.”
“They will talk to one another and to their imam, I think.”
“And report to him how the demon was cast out?”
“Probably. It might make him think.”
“I begin to be controversial already.”
“Of course they might just get drunk.”
“That is not permitted, surely!”
“If they choose that way of dealing with it, then I will instruct their officer to be lenient. But I will not tell them this beforehand.”
“You are a wise and merciful ruler, elder cousin.”
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“I am sorry to impose myself on you like this, Karen.”
“Nonsense, Deborah, I offered friendship and I meant friendship. Pastor Yosuf was right. You could face more attacks physically or spiritually or both, and there are also the emotional reactions to what happened. You need to be among God's people. Urm, if it's OK, I'm just going to call on a friend or two for advice.”
“By your gift?”
“Yes. You don't mind?”
“Of course not.”
Karen considered if she should call Kate or John. Kate had more experience in counselling, but John was a church elder. Or should she contact one of the others? She decided to call John first of all and checked his feet. He was awake and not in bed, which had been her other concern. He was climbing up a hillside. [John, sorry to interrupt your climb, but I need some advice.]
[And I want a rest from walking anyway, so what's the problem?]
[New friend, my age, with the power, has just got betrothed. Her future mother-in-law reacted badly and it turned out that she was possessed. All the characteristic signs — unnatural strength and cursing Christ. My friend expelled it in the name of the Lord and now she's got the shakes. Any advice how to help her deal with it, other than pray, and get her to talk about it?]
[Well, tell her it's normal to have the shakes after anything that traumatic, but otherwise pray with her and let her talk. Talk about what you went through too, it's not quite the same, but it might help her feel normal.]
[And I didn't really get the shakes because I was too blissed out on my first dose of the peace.]
[I'm not sure, but maybe you could share a little of the peace with her.]
[Mind to mind, you mean?]
[Yes.]
[I'll try.]
“Sorry. Did you hear any of that?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Probably not. It's just that I know I can hear others when they shout across the world, but I wasn't sure if that's because they include me in the shout, or if it comes as part of my gift, or if it's part of the normal truth-sayer ability.”
“Oh. So you could have chosen to include me, but didn't?”
“Probably. But I was thinking to him in English, so I didn't think to. Do you speak our language?”
“Only a little, and only if you speak slowly, so I probably wouldn't have understood anyway.”
“Sometime we could try, but there are more important things to talk of.”
“Like why is my faith so weak that I am still shaking in fear, when it was strong enough to drive out the demon?”
“I don't think shaking is a lack of faith. You had a big surprise, no sorry, that's the wrong word. What's the word for a nasty surprise?”
“A shock?”
“Thank you, you've had a big shock, your body makes a lot of something we call adrenaline then. Shaking is just your body wondering what to do with all the adrenaline.”
“I know that, but why do I fear still?”
“Because you are a sensible woman?”
That wasn't the reaction Deborah had expected. “Pardon? Did you mean that word?”
“I think so. Pastor Yosuf told you to find somewhere safe, yes?”
“Yes. He said that I might be attacked.”
“So, you're in danger, and it is sensible to fear when you're in danger. It's not sensible to let the fear paralyse you, but it's not sensible either to keep walking in the middle of the street when there are bullets flying.”
“So you think there are bullets flying?”
“Yes, spiritual ones, so we should pray.”
“Yes.”
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There had not been any bullets flying as Hagar approached the last house on her list. It was where Ahmed had got the stolen coin from. So far, five whole families had gone straight to the embassy with the bus that had been hired, two had decided they'd take their own vehicle, and the others had decided that part of the family would use the bus and the rest would make their own way. Hagar presumed that was from understandable fear.
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She knocked at the door and the little boy opened it. He'd been crying.
“Hello, is your mummy here?”
“Mummy gone.” He was close to tears again.
“Oh? Has she gone shopping?”
“Gone bad men.” The tears came once more.
She focussed on the child's thoughts and saw that this little boy had seen his mother being taken by Hamed, Ahmed's brother, and others. “Oh you poor little one!” She bundled him into her arms and as she comforted him she sent to Karen.
[Karen, Ahmed's brother and Hamed have kidnapped Yasmin — the one Ahmed stole the coin from. Please tell whoever.]
[OK, have you got enough soldiers with you?]
[Not really. At least, I've got four here, a bus-load of relatives and the little boy. There were six of them.]
[OK, I'll get in touch with one of the rescue teams.] “Sorry, Deborah, there's an emergency.”
[George, get a message to Mummy. Wife of one of the rescued has been taken. Hamed not in prison. I thought they'd got him already! More details to follow. And locate the soldiers so we can work out which ones to divert.] Karen focussed on Yasmin's feet. She was there in that van there, moving on that road there. [They're taking her North, out of the capital.]
[That's towards where her husband was kept. Henry and Sam are in that group, they're pretty close to the city. Are they going to pass each other?]
[I'll tell them, maybe they can intercept.]
[It'll blow their cover.]
[Depends how they handle it.] Karen focussed on Henry's surface thoughts. Idle chit-chat. [Henry, it's Karen. Sorry to do this to you, but we've got a situation.]
[I'm listening, maam.]
[There's a white van, police style, markings painted out. I'm not sure exactly where it is relative to you, but it's on your road, north-bound. On-board is wife of one of your rescued guys, plus six bad guys, armed.]
[So somehow you'd like me to convince everyone to watch out for it?]
[Or something like that, yes. There will be orders. But you might have passed it by then. At least if your van was stopped then you'd not have to retrace your steps.] [Oh that one's pretty easy. Less embarrassing than admitting I'm hearing voices. Tell Sam what's up too, please, she's driver. Tell her I'll get the van stopped if she can keep her eyes peeled. Oh, and please square it with the captain, or I'll get a de-merit.]
[Thank you.]
[Sam, Karen here. Look out for a white van, oncoming. Bad-guys and one victim, wife to one of your men. Henry's about to get the van stopped at my request. Orders on their way but they'll take longer. OK?]
[Fine! He's just moaning that he's going to mess himself if we don't stop.]
[OK, I had wondered how he'd do it.]
Amid boos and jeers, Henry went behind some bushes. To wait. George called, [Karen, your mother's told the base commander. Orders should be on the way as soon as he gets to a radio.] Karen checked where Yasmin and the soldiers were. Very close. [Almost with you, Sam, Henry.]
Henry stood up, pretended to fiddle with his trousers and spotted the driver. It was Hamed who they'd all been issued pictures of. Rejoicing he jumped back into the armoured personnel carrier. “Sir, enemy Hamed driving that white van that just passed! I had a clear view!”
“I saw him too, sir, but wasn't sure. But that van matches the capture van,” shouted Sam, from the driver's position.
An armoured personnel carrier does not usually travel at high speed. Normally they are in a convoy and it burns a lot of fuel to get one up to top speed. Regulations therefore state a maximum speed for normal operations. Likewise, if it had been moving south, it would have taken a certain amount of time to turn it round. But Sam, forewarned, had stopped and reversed off the road into a track. The captain gave the word she'd been waiting for. “Pursuit!”
She flipped a recessed thumb switch and gently pressed her foot on the accelerator. Gently, because even then there was a massive cloud of debris ripped from the track, and their APC was close to rolling over as she made the gentle, ever so gentle curve which took them across the road and joining the traffic from the far side of the other carriageway, via someone's front garden. That manoeuvre had saved them rolling over and enabled them to be at normal traffic speed when they joined the flow of vehicles. Once on the road, she pressed the pedal a tiny bit harder and shot into the fast lane. Then she put on the strobe lights and klaxon. She didn't really want to squash anyone's car. It might scratch the paintwork. The engine and klaxon were both screaming nicely and the other vehicles were getting the message as something like twenty tons of military hardware approached them with strobe lights lighting up the countryside for miles around. Now that the cars had scattered in panic, the road ahead was clear and she accelerated to significantly past the civilian speed limit. She'd have been happier to go faster, to really try out the apparently lumbering beast which at the press of the button had suddenly been given a power to weight ratio that would make most sports cars' owners envious. But there was a bend up ahead and she couldn't go flat out round a corner. She had to slow down even.
In the seat beside her, also enjoying the change of pace, the captain readied the APC's targeting systems and was just about to call in their status when the radio crackled to life. “White capture van seen heading north on your road. One hostage on board, six armed kidnappers. Halt van and rescue hostage. Hostage is Yasmin, wife of released prisoner Abdul.”
“Acknowledged, van observed, in pursuit. Abdul, did you hear?”
“We chase Hamed and he has my Yasmin?”
“Yes.”
“They will kill her, surely.”
“We think not. They will hope to use her as a hostage. We will disable their engine and then spray them with sleep-gas.”
“Then they will crash!”
“We cannot let them have time to show they have your wife as hostage. We will stop their vehicle with this one. It may be bumpy. Everyone make sure their seatbelt is tight.”
“I do not understand. How will you stop their vehicle with this one?”
“We will go in front and slow down, so they hit us.”
“But if the driver swerves?”
“Please, you do not need to worry. Our driver has practised this. It is the safest way we know, on an open road like this. Your wife has no problems with her heart, her breathing? Sleep gas will not hurt her?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Good.”
“Sir, target in sight, I'm slowing for the corner and to intercept.”
“OK, Sam, let's stop them. See that section of wall, half a kilometre ahead?”
“Yes, sir, it should work, that's where I'm planning the intercept to be.”
Sam was a good driver and all the captain really had to do was press the right triggers at the right time. Right on schedule, he saw the wall loom on the other side of the van, just as they were beside it. Hopefully, it looked to all the observers in the van as though they had no intention to stop. They were considerably faster than them, after all. The captain triggered the targeted electro-magnetic pulse generator which would kill their engine, and also the sleep-gas harpoon. The harpoon went through the driver's door just where he'd been aiming and filled the cabin with the gas which would put them to sleep in under a second.
Now it was time to bring the van to a safe halt. Sam turned their difference in speed into orange-red heat in the brake disks, and sandwiched the van between the APC and the wall. The van couldn't swerve now. Sparks flew, but that was all just extra speed reduction. One of the APC's rear tyres blew out under the abuse, but as Sam's driving instructor had commented once, there were still another three on the axle, and another axle-full just in case. She carefully balanced the forces and kept a steady reduction in both vehicles’ speed.
Traffic behind them swerved, with the automatic collision avoidance systems taking over. In previous centuries there probably would have been accidents. Now there was shock and maybe some changes of clothes needed, along with a rapidly forming queue of traffic as drivers stopped rather than go past.
The concrete wall and the APC bore some scratches, and unsurprisingly the van probably wasn't going to be repairable, but both vehicles had stopped. The troops jumped out of the APC and deployed around the van. There was a slim chance after all that someone had managed to hold their breath against the sleep gas before it had dispersed.
Burt was self-appointed point man. Added risk meant extra leave. Going into a small vehicle where there were six gassed but armed hostile occupants and a hostage was probably good for an extra day's leave, and he wanted that extra day. He dragged the battered van door open, went in and systematically threw out all the weapons he found. The victim was easy to identify, not only was she the only woman, but she'd been bound and gagged and tied into one of the seats. He handcuffed the other occupants and cut her ties and then, since her husband was there, decided that it was better not to try and manhandle her sleeping form himself. He shouted, “Kidnappers handcuffed and disarmed, sir! Would Abdul like to help his wife out, or shall one of the girls do it?”
“Good idea, Burt. Abdul, we will administer the antidote to the gas, but your wife will find it hard to walk to start with. Would you like to help her out? Otherwise one of the woman soldiers can help.”
“I will help my wife stand. I am not as strong as I was, but this I wish to do.”
“Then please go to the van. Burt, antidote!”
“Yes, sir!”
Sleep-gas itself had multiple components. A fast action paralysing agent which targeted the voluntary nervous system without impairing breathing or heartbeat and a slower action anaesthetic which degraded quickly once released in the air so that the risk of overdose was reduced. The antidote, which would counteract both parts, was a measured squirt of another compound, which mopped up the anaesthetic and counteracted the paralysis. Depending on how far the person was from the gas release, and their physiology, it was possible that recovery from the paralysis would take up to half a minute longer than from the anaesthetic. The panic that induced could cause problems in people with heart conditions.
Bert spoke to Abdul, “I ask, please, respected sir, that once you reach your wife, you reassure her. She may be awake but unable to move or even blink for up to half a minute. It is from the gas.”
“I shall,” Abdul promised and as soon as he got to her he started repeating, “Yasmin, my princess, you have breathed the gas of sleep, you are rescued, as I, but the gas can take a while to wear off.” Eventually she opened her eyes. She searched his face.
“You are truly here, my husband? It was not a dream? You are so thin!”
“I am here, my wife, and I am free. Can you move?”
“I will try.” She tried to struggle to her feet, and sank back down. “I will need help, my husband.”
“You will have your strength in about half an hour,” Burt told her.
Outside the van they saw that some of the soldiers were replacing the shredded tyre, another was directing traffic around them, and the captain was showing a policeman the UN warrant and the president's executive order. “None of this permits you to cause an accident on this road! You are only instructed to free the people you have freed and arrest people that we have in custody already!”
“Then who was driving this van, sir?”
“It cannot be him, the president ordered his arrest and he was imprisoned yesterday!”
“I wonder who is in prison then, since this man matches his description and is driving a vehicle that was used in kidnapping these men.”
“Respected officer, that is the man who kidnapped me, who kidnapped my wife and had her on board also. I am very glad that these soldiers did not give the kidnappers a chance to shoot her,” Abdul confirmed.
Faced with this, the policeman returned to his vehicle and had a heated conversation with his commander. He eventually returned, red faced. “A judge signed a release order for Hamed and Ibrahim, stating that the evidence against them was obviously fabricated. You have the right kidnapper.”
“So where is his master?”
“I do not know.”
“Captain, may I have a word?” It was Sam, who Karen had been keeping in touch with.
“Sir, firstly, there's a reason that Henry and I saw the van. We knew it was coming. Karen told us.”
“Oh yes? And Henry's gut problems were a fabrication to put us in the right place to spot it?”
“Yes, sir. We didn't really want to break the secret. We can't do what she does, but we do hear thoughts if there's contact. It's enough to make people nervous.”
“I understand that,” he said.
“Anyway, sir, Karen tells me that Ibrahim is heading North too, hiding in the back of a police van. She guesses the driver is going to try and convince the officer here that he's been sent to pick up the prisoners.”
“Ah?”
“Ibrahim's probably going to try and flee the country. They wanted to know about our plans, that's why they took Yasmin, but I guess word has got out now.”
“So why take her to the prison?”
“Coincidence, we think. Karen said that Ibrahim has estates up here.”
“Ah. But she doesn't know about the van stopping for sure?”
“No. She obviously decided that wasn't a warranted intrusion. It might just go past as though doing a prisoner transfer.”
“Cough twice if she tells you it's near.”
“Yes-sir!” The captain went to talk to the police officer again.
[Karen, were you following his side as well as mine?]
[Only indirectly. I don't like eavesdropping.]
[You're doing it to me, though.]
[I know. Sorry, it's the only way, since you can't shout to me. Well, I could go shallower and just pick up your mood and not thoughts. Should I do that?]
[No, as long as I know you're listening in, it's OK. So, if Ibrahim's van gets close, let me know, and I'll cough to warn the captain. But you can choose how deep you hear? That's handy.]
[Only at a distance. I can't just hear the emotions of someone I'm touching any more than you.]
[Oh well.]
[I'd better check on Ibrahim... OK, he's still in the van, but it's turned off on a side road about three kilometres south of you. Avoiding your little traffic jam, I'd guess.]
[OK, well, keep me posted. I guess we'll have to leave him for local police.]
[Nope, he's not to be trusted to them in case what just happened happens again, mum says.]
[Oh wonderful. So I'll go talk to my captain again.]
[Please. I really don't understand why there's no way that someone in the embassy can't get patched through to the base radio room.]
[They said it was mice. The radio room is full of mouse holes anyway, so while military spec stuff is fine, a normal computer link gets chewed up too easily. And they don't want to use a wireless network of course.] [Too prone to eavesdropping, I know. Why not just put a metal pipe in for the wires? That'd be mouse-proof, surely?]
[I don't know. Suggest it.]
[I will. First though, you'd better get moving.]
[I'll try.]
Sam managed to catch the captain's eye, and tapped her headset. He came over.
“Something on the radio?”
“Not the one Marconi knew about, no. Karen says Ibrahim has switched to a side road, avoiding the traffic and/or us. This road here, from her description.” She pointed at the map.
“OK, we'd better move out. No chance of her arranging some more orders, is there?”
“I'll ask.” [Any chance of some orders to obey here, Karen?]
[Mummy's calling the base commander as we speak. Resorting to calling his wrist unit, which really annoys her.]
[I can imagine.]
“Orders should be coming soon, sir!” Right on schedule the orders came through. They should leave the prisoners except Hamed in the hands of the local police and intercept Ibrahim, travelling in a police van. “No unique description of the van's markings was given.”
“We'll have to do this one the hard way, sir. Stop every van just to make sure.”
“OK, let's go then.” Heading back to the officer, he said. “I have my orders, sir. According to a witness Ibrahim is heading North in the back of a police van. He must be taken as prisoner to face trial for his crimes. I must take Hamed with me, in case there are other judges he has corrupted. We assume these others are not as influential, and leave them with you. These are our orders under the international court decision.” Then he ordered, “Henry, Burt, get Hamed into the APC, no antidote.”
Eventually the sleep gas would start to wear off, at which point they'd have a cross thought-stealer on board. To mitigate against this they put a plastic sheet between him and any metalwork. The APC wasn't configured for transporting prisoners, but there were plenty of straps for tying down equipment, and they used some of these to attach him firmly to one of the seats. He wasn't going to go anywhere. On the other hand, it would be a relief when they could put him into the police van. The rescued kidnappees were not at all pleased to be sharing a vehicle with him again, and quite a few spat at him as he was dragged in. No one bothered rebuking them.
They left the other bound, unconscious prisoners in the charge of the police officer.
[Karen, are you there?] Sam thought and heard nothing in reply. It was odd, she realised, not knowing if Karen could hear her or not.
[Oh, did you call?] She heard Karen's thoughts once more.
[Yes. I was just thinking that it would be good if this thing had some kind of ‘I'm listening’ signal.]
[I could think ‘ping’ at you every so often and listen to what you're thinking for a few seconds. I can't concentrate on what's happening here and there at the same time. Ah, I've got a better idea actually, if you don't mind. Can I get George to talk to you instead? ]
[Sure. Sorry, I didn't realise you were busy.]
[Just trying to do some psych-counselling for someone who's had to deal with a traumatic event. Nothing to do with what you're up to, just coincidence.]
[Oh! You'd better concentrate on your patient.]
[Thanks. I'll get George to shout to you.]
[Thanks. It'd be good to know if we miss Ibrahim.]
[George, can you give an ear to Sam? Give her hints towards locating Ibrahim's van.]
[Only hints?]
[Yes, all their orders said was police van North-bound. No identifying marks.]
[So it's stop and search every police van?]
[Yes.]
[And has anyone thought to ask the police where their vans are, and tell the drivers to comply?]
[Pass. But you're the one who can contact everyone now, I'm going to give Deborah the attention she needs.]
“Sorry, Deborah. George is now dealing with that ongoing crisis, so you have my full attention now.”
“Was it something you can tell me about?”
“Has Hagar told you of her plans?”
“Hagar's plans? I presume you don't mean about Yosuf's back.”
“No, I don't. So I'd rather not break confidence without her permission.”
“She was not at home tonight.”
“That's right, she wasn't. Now Deborah, you were telling me about what happened.”
“I know. And now I am filled with curiosity and a desire to know more, and the temptation to use my power on you is quite strong.”
“Is this a temptation you often feel, to get inside someone's head to find out things they won't tell you?”
“Not really. I guess it is something the president is asking me to do, but I haven't yet done it.”
“I am glad.”
“It's not a good thing, is it? But why shouldn't I, really?”
“It is quite close to acting as a thought-stealer,” Karen said, thoughtfully.
Deborah sat back, as if slapped. “And stealing is sin.”
“Yes. I think stealing thoughts is sin. But there is a dilemma for me concerning it.”
“For you?”
[Yes. I can send my thoughts to you like this. But since you cannot send back to me, how can I know your answer without getting close to thought stealing?]
“So it is not black and white. You cannot know if the person you wish to talk to accepts your listening to their answer, unless you listen. Are you intending to distract me?”
“Not really, but it does give your mind something less perilous to think about than temptation, doesn't it?”
“It does. Thank you.”
“Do you want to talk about my ethical dilemma, your temptation, what happened this evening, or your reactions to it?”
“I think part of my reaction is that I want to talk, or maybe it is that the idea of sleep is scary right now, so... all of them?”
“Deborah, my friend, I always like to talk!”
----------------------------------------
[Sam, George here. Karen asked me to take over. I've just had a word with Maria: your nav system should be getting access to current police van locations and histories. When it does, then if it looks like you've missed him I'll let you know. But you can hardly ignore your orders and skip some without motive.]
[But he's still going North?]
[He is, still on a minor road though.]
[So all we need to do is check all of the vans which are suspicious. Shouldn't take more than a week.]
[Don't forget you've still got four passengers to deliver to their families, so think smart. I expect you'll be able to work out which one it is without me getting close to overstepping the mark. The lack of a victim on board makes a difference.]
[Fair enough. Radio confirms that we should be getting a location list. OK! We have a target list, and we're about four kilometres south from our nearest one. There's quite a lot of vans up here.]
“Captain, nearest van is four kilometres North, and it came straight from the city. Should we intercept?”
“Go for it. Engage pursuit mode.”
“Hold on to your hats, people!” Sam yelled to the passengers, flipped the thumb switch and, since there was a lovely straight flat road in front of them, she pressed the pedal all the way to the floor. The engine note went through one octave and another, and got to tones that even a soprano would wince at, and then hung there, drinking up the fuel almost as fast as a thirsty camel would water. It was a good thing that liquid fuel was cheap to produce now that fusion reactors provided the raw energy. The range of the APC, travelling at this speed, was about a tenth of normal speeds, but it was useful. With the strobes working to clear the traffic, it only took a couple of minutes to intercept the police van.
This time they brought the van to a halt a little more politely. The captain had no desire to destroy every van they searched. Instead, Sam, shedding speed, simply drove alongside the van and the captain respectfully asked the driver to pull over for a search, in accordance with the UN arrest mandate and the presidential order. It was, admittedly, hard to be respectful to someone only two metres away over a loudspeaker system designed to be heard by people on the other side of a riot, but the captain tried to speak quietly, at least. Ears ringing, the driver of the police van complied quickly.
“A thousand apologies for the volume,” the captain said after the check had revealed nothing, “but that was the quietest I could set it to.”
“May I respectfully suggest the designers be reprimanded?”
“I shall take note of your comment in my report, without attribution, of course.”
“So Ibrahim's got out of jail?”
“Yes, a judge said there was no evidence and ordered his release. We understand that there were some irregularities in that. For instance the decision wasn't actually made after a hearing in court.”
“I wonder where the judge is now. On his way to a new home on the moon?”
“No, that would be foolish. Your president has friends there.”
“A good point, a very good point.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, officer, now I must go.”
“May the God of heaven help you find him!”
“May it be so!”
As they drove off, the captain shut the hatch to the back of the APC and asked Samantha, “So, Sam, will she?”
“Pardon, sir?”
“The good officer back there prayed that God would help us find him. I was wondering if she would.”
“I don't think George would like to be called God sir, nor a she.”
“Oh, they've traded places?”
“George is the one talking to me now, yes, sir.”
“And?”
“Given our orders and the different circumstances, he says he can't just direct us to him. We need to come up with our own plan. Or rather, you do, sir.”
“So, we're not getting it handed to us on a plate this time?”
“Exactly, sir, but he's either heading to his estates or out of the country. And George says he will say if he gets away from us.”
“Right. So I just need to look at the behaviour of these targets and see what they're up to. Ignore ones on short trips, ones not coming from the capital, and so on, and come up with a target list.” He studied the tracks from the police department as Sam continued to drive North.
“Next target selected Sam, it's been on a parallel road and is just coming up behind us. Looks like a good one to check to me. When we're in a clearish bit of landscape, please, pull over and we'll make a traffic jam again.”
“Yes, sir.”
For once, there was no torturing of rubber or racing of the engine. As the captain went back to give orders to the soldiers, Samantha looked for a good place to stop.
She found one — newly harvested grain fields stretching almost to the horizons on both sides of the road, with a barrier between the northbound and southbound lanes. Nowhere to hide, even in the growing darkness. The APC's lights showed that there were even some nice big rocks beside the road, suitable for improvised traffic cones.
The soldiers deployed quickly. The APC blocked part of the road and they rolled some of the rocks towards the other side of the road, making a chicane and narrowing the lane further. They stood, guns ready, but waving the traffic through. The traffic was able to pass at about 50 kilometres per hour, the drivers somewhat confused, but very willing to continue their journey uninvolved in whatever was happening. Eventually, the police van was sighted.
“Right! Everyone start paying more attention,” commanded the captain.
“It might be polite or it might get exciting. Move those rocks in a bit to make the vehicles slow down more.”
The driver of the police van wasn't willing to slow down more and put on his flashing lights and siren. The private vehicles in front of it pulled off the road to give it space and it accelerated. Sam had half expected it though, and was ready when the captain ordered, “Block its path, Sam!”
It wasn't hard. The APC was long enough to block the road with ease. All Sam needed to do was close the gap she'd left.
Seeing its road ahead closed, the van swerved off the road, trying to pass behind the APC. It managed that, but the driver clearly hadn't noticed where the half-metre diameter rocks in the road had come from. The right front wheel hit one that they hadn't moved, full on. The steering arm shattered and the van spun half a turn. The soldiers ran towards it, guns at the ready. It was quite clear to them all that this was not going to be a polite encounter.
In a voice that had once caused terror across the parade ground, the captain called out, “You will exit the vehicle with your hands up! You are under arrest under the authority of the United Nations Council for Human Rights and the direct order of your president!”
“Sir, the van's in range of the rear sleep gas turret,” Sam called over the radio.
“Thank you, Sam. Trigger on my command.”
“If you carry a weapon, you will be shot. You will come out now, with your hands up! If you do not then sleep gas will be used. You will come out from the van now!” There was some movement in the van but no doors were opened. “Sam, now.”
The sleep gas harpoon fired, a mere half a second before the rear door of the van flew open and an unarmed man jumped out and started to run. They recognised the man as Ibrahim. He managed two steps before the cloud of gas that followed him from the van knocked him out.
“All right then, let's tie him and his driver down in the back with their friend,” commanded the captain. “Be quick about it, we've got some people to take to a dinner, then we'll put the prisoners somewhere suitable.”
“Where is suitable, sir? It's not like any of the embassies can run a prison.”
“Ibrahim and Hamed go on a flight to the international courts, the driver goes to a local prison.”
“Oh, of course.”
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The sky was completely dark when they arrived, but the joy in the family members' faces shone through it. All the troops agreed, it had been a good evening's work. Especially since they were invited to the meal as well.