Read Online Bad Company by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online

possible. Get in.”
    The Baron did, sitting in the rear, Aroun in front beside the driver. As they drove away, the thunder rumbled again and rain erupted, deluging the slow-moving traffic, a scene of chaos, horns honking, the sidewalks crowded with people, most of them seemingly oblivious to the rain.
    “This is the main throughfare through the old town. Al Rashid Street. It’s not too far to the palace.”
    Al Rashid Street.
It made von Berger think of Kate. She hadn’t rung back. The car braked behind a truck close to the curb, where several young men were sheltered under the awning of a cafe, smoking cigarettes and talking. As the Mercedes paused, they noticed it and stared, very much aware of von Berger’s Western clothes. They began talking excitedly in Arabic, youths of a kind to be found in any great city in the world and intent on mischief. Suddenly, they approached the car, and someone wrenched open the rear door of the Mercedes.
    “American, eh? We don’t like Americans.”
    “No, I’m German.”
    “You lie – American.” Hands reached in for him.
    Aroun got out on the other side and pulled a pistol, but three men jumped on him from behind, wrestled him to the ground and started kicking him. His driver was pulled out and received the same treatment. Von Berger thought his last hour had come, as many hands grabbed at him, pulling him into the middle of the crowd. A tall, young, bearded man, incongruously in a baseball cap and T-shirt, seemed to be the leader. He brandished Aroun’s pistol and shouted to the crowd, then advanced on von Berger as they held him.
    “Americans we kill,” the man said.
    But just then came a squeal of brakes as two Land Rovers came to a halt, the sound of a shot fired into the air, and a woman calling in Arabic. The men turned, pulling von Berger with them, and he saw Kate Rashid standing by one of the Land Rovers in headcloth, khaki bush shirt and slacks. She was holding a Browning Hi-Power and the six Bedu guards with her had AK47s at the ready.
    “Let him go,” she said in English to the man in the baseball cap.
    “He is American and Americans we kill,” he shouted. “And who are you, woman, to tell us what do?”
    He grabbed von Berger by the hair and rammed the muzzle of his pistol against the Baron’s skull. “I say he dies.”
    Her hand swung up, and she fired, shooting him through the mouth, the back of his skull fragmenting, blood and bone spraying over the crowd. He dropped the pistol and fell, and the crowd scattered and ran. The Baron had fallen to the ground and two of the Bedu picked him up.
    “Kate,” he said, dumbfounded.
    She smiled and turned to Aroun, who had picked himself up and leaned on the Mercedes. “Major Aroun, I think you know who I am.”
    “Yes, Lady Kate.”
    “I don’t know what’s been going on here. No uniforms, no military escort?”
    “He said it had to be low-profile.”
    “Really? Well, you’d better see to the scum on the pavement, then clean yourself up and I’ll take the Baron to the Presidential Palace.” She turned to von Berger. “Come on, get in and tidy yourself up. Your hair is all over the place.”
     
    Sitting in the back of one of the Land Rovers as they drove away, he said, “Where in the hell did you spring from?”
    “Oh, I was in the region and heard a whisper relating to your meeting with the great man. For various reasons, I wasn’t happy. Saddam can do strange things. He’s a man of uncertainties. He sends a junior officer to greet you, leaves you kicking your heels for three days, a man as important as you? That means he’s in another manic phase.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “Because I know him well. He’s a good friend of mine. No, that’s not quite right. He
thinks
he’s a good friend of mine.”
    “And you?”
    “Oh, I think he’s a madman who’d be better off dead. Achieving that would be difficult, however.”
    They paused at the gates of the Presidential Palace, were checked