The Alamut mission team had a short window in which to meet. Lafont was in Germany and couldn’t make it, so Briffaut convened in the top-floor SCIF with de Payns and Garrat. The atmosphere had become rushed, which usually indicated that Frasier had briefed a member of the government and now results were expected yesterday.
Briffaut worked with his shirtsleeves rolled up. ‘Right now, we have two lines operating at once—the DO have a team working on the comings and goings at that Palermo warehouse, determining what was there, how much there was and where it has gone. It could have left by ship or plane, or, if it was a small enough quantity, it could have been walked off Sicily in a couple of backpacks.’
De Payns had already helped the DO team get started. They were led by Louis Blanco, who was a good operator; if there was a logistics trail for whatever had been in that warehouse, Blanco would find it.
‘The second line is Alamut, and that’s what we’re here to discuss,’ said Briffaut. ‘We have to get close to the MERC and confirm the source of the Clostridium perfringens. That’s our only chance—to get to the source of this crap.’
There was one game in town and that was de Payns’ relationship with Raven.
‘Your report says you’ve been invited for dinner with Timberwolf and Raven in Islamabad,’ said Briffaut. ‘Are we sure it’s not a trap?’
De Payns knew his role—he couldn’t be sure the dinner wasn’t a trap, but Briffaut did not want that evaluation on the record. He wanted de Payns to be sure enough to accelerate what was a very dangerous operation. He wanted to hear that de Payns could be dining with Raven and Timberwolf in Islamabad very quickly. He didn’t want to hear the doubts and the ‘ifs’.
De Payns placed two copies of his briefing on the desk, the result of an early-morning meeting with Templar. ‘The email and phone intercepts suggest Raven’s protective of me, so I think we’re safe on that front. The test comes when she’s in Islamabad, organises a dinner with her brother and acknowledges me as a guest. That’s when Timberwolf and the ISI will respond.’
There was silence. The three of them knew that attending such a dinner date—under the noses of the ISI, in Pakistan—was very dangerous, not only for de Payns but for the rest of the mission team.
Briffaut cleared his throat and grabbed his copy of de Payns’ mission briefing. ‘You’re aware we have to speed up this operation, but this better show me how you’re dealing with the risks.’
De Payns walked them through it. A recon team from the Company was flying into Islamabad that morning, to spend a week setting up the équipement de ville, that included ISs, tourniquets, support plans, hotels, exfiltration plans and the dating games—the jeux de rendez-vous. Once the recon team had set up the équipement, the mission team would spend a week learning and practising it. Then the mission team—consisting of Templar, Danny, Jerome, Paulin and Simon—would go in to Islamabad, and two days later de Payns would arrive for his dinner date with Raven and Timberwolf.
De Payns took them through the basics—the support team would number only five, but they would be in and around the environment, which was largely Raven’s flat and de Payns’ hotel, as well as travel routes to and from the international airport. Special attention would be paid to Raven’s flat—de Payns would not be wired, so the team would have to be close enough to give assistance to de Payns while staying inconspicuous. Templar had suggested wireless mics placed around the flat and its approaches—his thinking was that the ISI would sweep inside the flat for listening devices but probably not the exterior. The hotels would consist of tourist three-stars for the support team and de Payns would stay at the Marriott, chosen because it was a fit with the Duboscq legend and because it had several entry/exit points. Hotels with multiple exits were chosen for DGSE operations because it gave the team options for the exfil, which was also designed before de Payns arrived in-country.
‘What about the car?’ asked Briffaut. ‘You probably don’t want to use the Hertz contact again.’
‘Templar will buy something from a backpacker hostel. The cars are not a problem; the main issue is the flat itself and the assumption that Timberwolf will be accompanied by ISI minders. The team loses sight of me at six o’clock or thereabouts, and then I’m in a flat with Dr Death and his ISI bodyguards.’
‘I don’t like it,’ said Briffaut, leaning forward. ‘Surely we can get some comms into her flat?’
‘If the ISI do a sweep of the place just before I arrive and find the intrusions, I’m fucked,’ said de Payns.
‘It’s worth the risk,’ said Garrat.
De Payns shook his head. ‘Not to me it’s not.’
They were waiting for him near the exit of the Port-Royal RER station. De Payns could see Jim Valley through the century-old glass-panel doors that had recently been renovated. Jim saw him and exited through another door, putting on his cap as he left: Follow me. They walked north for five minutes—with a decent gap between them—until they were in the Jardins des Grands Explorateurs. Jim walked past the famous fountain featuring the women holding up the world, taking off his cap as he did: Stop following me. De Payns saw Philippe Manerie seated on a park bench, walked over and took a seat, leaving a big gap between them.
‘Still too close to my neighbourhood, but an improvement,’ said de Payns, lighting a smoke. ‘What do you want?’
‘Nice to see you too, Alec,’ said Manerie, who was wearing a dark grey felt hat in the Paris sunshine. ‘Perhaps I didn’t clarify our relationship—you were to report to me on this hunt for the mole in the Y Division.’
‘I told you, Manerie, I’m not privy to that investigation, and—as your own people will tell you—I’m suspected of selling passports to Sayef Albar for three million euros.’
‘Nice deflection, Alec. But you missed an important fact about your friend.’
‘Shrek?’
‘I’m told he was sent back to Sicily.’
De Payns hissed out a plume of smoke and looked at the fountain. ‘I haven’t seen his report.’
‘I didn’t ask for his report.’
‘So?’
‘So, why was Monsieur Tibet in Palermo?’
‘You work in the same building as Lafont—why not ask her?’
De Payns watched Manerie’s face change. The pale eyes hardened and for a second de Payns saw the mask of the special forces soldier. ‘Lafont, you say? So, this is not Operation Falcon?’
De Payns knew he’d made a misstep. He now had to tread carefully. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen the report.’
‘Stop with the fucking report,’ snapped Manerie. ‘Falcon is not Lafont’s operation. What’s her interest in Palermo?’
‘I don’t know, Director. I haven’t spoken to Lafont or Tibet about the Palermo job.’
‘But you know he was working for Lafont? What would she be looking for down there?’
De Payns shrugged, but Manerie was on to him. ‘Marie Lafont is Counter-Proliferation. She would not deploy someone like Guillaume Tibet unless it was important. It’s not like he’s a scientist or an engineer. So tell me, what is the Y Division doing snooping around in Palermo?’
‘I don’t know,’ said de Payns, feeling the eyes of his tormentor boring into him.
Manerie sighed and stood slowly. ‘You know what I used to tell the Marxist guerrillas we captured in Africa?’
De Payns shrugged, squinting as he looked up. ‘What?’
‘You lie—you die.’ Manerie crushed his cigarette under his shoe. ‘That was generally the last conversation those Communists ever enjoyed.’
De Payns watched Manerie walk away, the waters of the fountain now seeming very loud.
He woke shortly after 1 a.m. as the rain started. He usually slept lightly before an operation, and he left the bed and padded around the apartment, checking on the boys and the front door. He checked the windows and made sure the security latch on the Juliet balcony was where he’d left it when he went to bed. On the street below he looked for vehicles that were new or unusual, or had people in them. It was dark on the street and, as on most Paris streets, his view was blocked by trees. He stared into the night, questions erupting in his brain. Who had sold them out in Palermo and how much did that person know about Operation Alamut? He wondered about Raven and her motive for inviting him to dinner in Islamabad. Was he really going to walk into that flat with Timberwolf and his ISI thugs? Was he going to go up against the ISI right in the middle of Islamabad?
He shook off the pre-operation nerves and headed back to Romy. He wanted to hold her, as if this could be the last time, but he wanted to do it without scaring her. In the end he lay against her shoulder and listened to the Paris rain and her breathing. He wanted to enjoy the moment, but his mind was racing over the week ahead.