Their senses, fuelled by a controlled excitement, were operating at a level far above the normal, but their pulse rates were only slightly elevated, and their minds icy calm.

Every fibre of them both was itching for action.

‘Once more unto the breach, Frederick,’ said Skelton quietly. ‘Time for some vengeance and retribution.’

Chapter 93.

93.

INSIDE THE LARGE villa on the other side of the wall, Argun Shishani was knocking softly on Khasmohmad Kadyrov’s bedroom door.

He heard a muffled response from within, and depressed the handle.

Kadyrov had just turned on the lamp next to his mattress, and was sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

‘My apologies, Khasmohmad,’ said Shishani, quietly. ‘I know you need sleep.’

‘It’s fine, it’s fine,’ said Kadyrov, beckoning him inside. ‘What time is it?’

‘A little after two o’clock.’

‘The whores?’

‘All quiet.’

Kadyrov yawned. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘So is there a problem?’

‘The courier just delivered the address,’ said Shishani. ‘I was wondering if…’

‘Where is it?’

‘Place called Qatrun.’

‘I don’t know it.’

‘Neither do I,’ said Shishani. ‘It’s a good distance further south. About five hundred kilometres, apparently. The helicopter will need to change its route, but it’s not a problem.’

‘Just what I need,’ said Kadyrov, with a chuckle. ‘Another long drive.’

He had been suffering from mild dysentery for a couple of days, though it was starting to pass.

‘It will be worth it in the end,’ said Shishani. ‘And you were right – it makes sense. There’s no way of knowing what happened to the men coming up from the south, but why take the risk? And after the arrest of your friend in Balochistan…’

‘You let the courier go?’

‘I did, for now. No point in causing trouble while we are still here. Shaladi vouched for him, and he will deal with him later.’

‘It’s crucial that we close every door that we can,’ said Kadyrov, suddenly serious. ‘I still wonder if we should not kill Shaladi and his brother in Cairo, also.’

‘Don’t worry about them, Khasmohmad,’ said Shishani, his voice reassuring. ‘They have as much to lose as we do. And the money will buy their silence. That’s all the greedy bastards care about.’

‘What’s that expression the English have?’ said Kadyrov, a twinkle in his eye. ‘The pot and the black kettle?’

‘Something like that.’

Kadyrov stood up, stretched and scratched his belly. ‘You still think the British will pay up? Their responses have been evasive.’

‘They may not have received our proof of life film yet, brother,’ said Shishani. ‘And even so, they have to play it carefully. They have laws against paying ransoms and it would look bad for them. But I am certain that they will pay. Her father is very rich. The delay is probably due to them trying to decide how to put the money together and transmit it to us, without their voters and their newspapers finding out.’