12 CHARLES STREET,
MAYFAIR
JANUARY 13, 2012
2042 HOURS
"Sir, I don't know how I can find him in forty-eight hours. Beirut is a huge city and it's divided into several areas controlled by bickering factions." Alexandra pointed to the map of Lebanon that Ronan had unrolled on the dining room table.
"Inspector, I have come to rely on that analytical mind of yours over the last three years. I expect you to give me a professional assessment!" Ronan slammed his hand onto the table causing the giant dog to sit up from its deep slumber. "Please do so now."
"Yes, sir." She studied the map carefully and unrolled an acetate sheet onto it. With a grease pencil, she began to mark elongated crosses.
"If I were him, I would hide the child either north of Beirut or on the coast." She traced the areas carefully. "The reason he would select these two areas is that they are not in Hezbollah control and are not usually bombed by the Israelis." She emphasized the word 'usually'.
"Go on."
"I would select the coastal area because I would have a covert entry point. With a young child, I do not think he could extricate them easily on the coast without running into Israeli blockades or gunboats."
"So how would you get the child out?" Ronan prompted.
"North and then try to exit via Turkey or the sea – somewhere near Tripoli, sir. Turkey is NATO and he may have friends there." Alexandra sat back down to await her superior's opinion.
"No, Inspector, if you were the mole in our intelligence services, what would you expect Colonel Nobriega to do?"
"Precisely what I just said." She pushed her chair back and peered at the map. "But because that man is so devious." She spat the last word out. "He'll head to Syria through the most dangerous country and then to Jordan, wouldn't he?" She paused. "Why the hell would the Syrians let him through?" She paced the length of the dining room. "Does he have any friends or associates in the Syrian military?" She continued pacing. "No, he doesn't, but does he have any in Hezbollah? Or the Israelis? Of the UNFIL mission? It's impossible, sir. He's as slippery as a jungle animal."
"Is he now?" Ronan smiled as he sat up and joined her at the fireplace. "Christopher had to recruit native Arabs. Men and women he trusted. In turn, they had to trust him. It was the same thing with the Pashtuns. Now ask yourself a question, where could he recruit these people? In New York? Or London?"
"The refugee camps! Of course. I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking."
"Do you know how many refugee camps there are scattered in Syria and Jordan from the Iraq War nine years ago? From the Israeli conflict? We, in our infinite wisdom have managed to dispossess almost four million people in a search for the ever elusive 'weapons of mass destruction' and 'peace'. God alone knows how many we killed. Now think, Inspector. Think like the jungle animal that Christopher is. What would you do?"
"Give me a few minutes to gather my thoughts, sir."
"I'll do better than that, Inspector. Go home. There's a driver and car outside. Meet me in the morning for breakfast. 0530 hours. And as you fall asleep think about Christopher." Ronan failed to notice the glare he received from Alexandra as he guided the Newfoundland dog to one of the couches. "Go to sleep, Kitten. God knows where your master is tonight."
OFF BEIRUT
MEDITERRANEAN SEA
At that precise moment, the jungle animal, Lt. Colonel Nobriega, was feeling more like a walrus than a sleek animal of the jungle.
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