you,’ Talbot said. ‘I had an excellent trip.’
‘You had a disastrous trip, you stupid fool,’ Hassan told him.
Talbot said, ‘What the hell? I don’t have to put up with you talking to me like that.’
‘Listen to the tape I received, Talbot. Then you’ll see why I’m angry.’
Talbot did, and with some horror. When it was finished, he called the Preacher back and Shah answered at once. ‘What have you got to say?’
‘It was in the heat of battle, so I shot my mouth off. Regrettable, and I apologize, but I don’t see how it hurts us.’
‘You think not? This General Charles Ferguson is a legend in the counter-terrorism field. He has been an absolute thorn in the flesh of Al Qaeda, and so are the people who work for him. Dillon, Holley, Miller; they’ll all start nosing around. If Holley hadn’t kept his business partner, Hamid Malik, informed of all his doings, and Malik hadn’t confided in Hakim, we’d never have known.’
‘So what’s the problem?’ Talbot asked. ‘If this Holley guy tells his business partner about everything, then we should be able to find out about what happens next, shouldn’t we?’
‘You just don’t get it, do you? All Charles Ferguson and this Major Roper had to go on was a muddled tape, and then in you came with that absurdly dramatic code name, Shamrock, announcing to the world: What a spectacular. Warrenpoint all over again and it worked big time. Osama will be delighted. ’
Talbot had made a mistake there, and he knew it. ‘So I got a bit overenthusiastic.’
‘And what was your touching dedication supposed to mean? You can rest in peace now, Sean. Night bless? ’
Talbot said, ‘That’s got nothing to do with you.’
‘Everything has something to do with me. Answer me.’
‘Sean Kelly was my friend, a stable boy at Talbot Place. He was only nineteen, but he was a Provo like all his family. Some of those wounded Highlanders managed to fight back, and Sean took a bullet.’
‘How heart-warming. When you joined the Army, the Troubles must have given you a problem, didn’t it, knowing which side you were on?’
‘I was never in Ulster with the Grenadier Guards.’
‘But you certainly were with Twenty-Two SAS. More than twenty covert operations, wasn’t it? One in County Tyrone where your unit ambushed and killed eight members of the PIRA. I wonder how your friends in Kilmartin would react if they knew?’
‘You bastard,’ Justin Talbot said.
‘Action and passion, that’s what you like, a bloody good scrap; and you don’t care who the opponent is. Of course, you’ve never been certain which side you were on, Fenian or Prod.If only your mother had told you that you were Catholic years ago, you might have turned out different.’
Justin Talbot struggled to control his rage. ‘That is nonsense. What the hell are you saying?’ ‘Your father was a Catholic.’
‘Of course he was. Everyone knew that. But I’m a Protestant. My grandfather is a Presbyterian Unionist who loathes Catholics beyond anything else on this earth. He enjoyed telling me throughout my childhood that I was a bastard, but at least a Protestant one.’
‘And he was wrong. You were baptized into the Roman Catholic faith on the fifth of August, Nineteen sixty-four, two weeks after your birth, by Father Alan Winkler of St Mary the Virgin Church, Dun Street, Mayfair.’
Talbot tried deep breathing to steady himself. ‘What are you saying? Is this true? Did anybody know?’
‘I believe your grandmother did. She was a remarkable woman to put up with your grandfather all those years, and your mother takes after her. You’re hardly a fool. You must have been aware that I’m a careful man. I do my research, Justin.’
‘All right,’ Talbot said wearily. ‘Where is all this leading?’
‘Everything stays as it is. Since the Peace Process, many old IRA hands have sought employment in London.’
‘What about them?’
‘I’m sure your IRA connections in
‘You had a disastrous trip, you stupid fool,’ Hassan told him.
Talbot said, ‘What the hell? I don’t have to put up with you talking to me like that.’
‘Listen to the tape I received, Talbot. Then you’ll see why I’m angry.’
Talbot did, and with some horror. When it was finished, he called the Preacher back and Shah answered at once. ‘What have you got to say?’
‘It was in the heat of battle, so I shot my mouth off. Regrettable, and I apologize, but I don’t see how it hurts us.’
‘You think not? This General Charles Ferguson is a legend in the counter-terrorism field. He has been an absolute thorn in the flesh of Al Qaeda, and so are the people who work for him. Dillon, Holley, Miller; they’ll all start nosing around. If Holley hadn’t kept his business partner, Hamid Malik, informed of all his doings, and Malik hadn’t confided in Hakim, we’d never have known.’
‘So what’s the problem?’ Talbot asked. ‘If this Holley guy tells his business partner about everything, then we should be able to find out about what happens next, shouldn’t we?’
‘You just don’t get it, do you? All Charles Ferguson and this Major Roper had to go on was a muddled tape, and then in you came with that absurdly dramatic code name, Shamrock, announcing to the world: What a spectacular. Warrenpoint all over again and it worked big time. Osama will be delighted. ’
Talbot had made a mistake there, and he knew it. ‘So I got a bit overenthusiastic.’
‘And what was your touching dedication supposed to mean? You can rest in peace now, Sean. Night bless? ’
Talbot said, ‘That’s got nothing to do with you.’
‘Everything has something to do with me. Answer me.’
‘Sean Kelly was my friend, a stable boy at Talbot Place. He was only nineteen, but he was a Provo like all his family. Some of those wounded Highlanders managed to fight back, and Sean took a bullet.’
‘How heart-warming. When you joined the Army, the Troubles must have given you a problem, didn’t it, knowing which side you were on?’
‘I was never in Ulster with the Grenadier Guards.’
‘But you certainly were with Twenty-Two SAS. More than twenty covert operations, wasn’t it? One in County Tyrone where your unit ambushed and killed eight members of the PIRA. I wonder how your friends in Kilmartin would react if they knew?’
‘You bastard,’ Justin Talbot said.
‘Action and passion, that’s what you like, a bloody good scrap; and you don’t care who the opponent is. Of course, you’ve never been certain which side you were on, Fenian or Prod.If only your mother had told you that you were Catholic years ago, you might have turned out different.’
Justin Talbot struggled to control his rage. ‘That is nonsense. What the hell are you saying?’ ‘Your father was a Catholic.’
‘Of course he was. Everyone knew that. But I’m a Protestant. My grandfather is a Presbyterian Unionist who loathes Catholics beyond anything else on this earth. He enjoyed telling me throughout my childhood that I was a bastard, but at least a Protestant one.’
‘And he was wrong. You were baptized into the Roman Catholic faith on the fifth of August, Nineteen sixty-four, two weeks after your birth, by Father Alan Winkler of St Mary the Virgin Church, Dun Street, Mayfair.’
Talbot tried deep breathing to steady himself. ‘What are you saying? Is this true? Did anybody know?’
‘I believe your grandmother did. She was a remarkable woman to put up with your grandfather all those years, and your mother takes after her. You’re hardly a fool. You must have been aware that I’m a careful man. I do my research, Justin.’
‘All right,’ Talbot said wearily. ‘Where is all this leading?’
‘Everything stays as it is. Since the Peace Process, many old IRA hands have sought employment in London.’
‘What about them?’
‘I’m sure your IRA connections in
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