The limousine drew to a halt by the entrance. The chauffeur opened the doors, saluted the general and returned to the driver’s seat for a cigarette.
The party was shown through the front door to a comfortable mess-room at the front of the main block, with soft black sofas, a widescreen TV, a bar, fine carpets on the walls, and a large desk. Behind the desk, in a green combat jacket and jeans, sat Colonel Mahmut Aslan. Aslan slowly rose to salute the general.
‘Please come out from behind your desk, Colonel. I regret I must relieve you of your command, as I have relieved your men of their weapons. Your associate is under guard in what looks suspiciously like an unauthorised laboratory. If al-Qasr attempts to move, he will be shot. Before we take you away, I have undertaken to our allies that they will have an opportunity to acquire information for their enquiries. Not something I personally approve of, but I have been overridden in this matter.’
Aslan looked Koglu up and down. ‘You know, General, there is a spiritual purity about this place you can’t quite find anywhere else in Turkey.’
‘You’re a criminal, Aslan! The only question my superiors have is why you should obtain this terrible weapon and keep it to yourself. We presume you’re trying to sell it to the highest bidder.’
Aslan shook his head. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, General. There is no weapon of mass destruction here. Or at least… not quite the kind of destruction you dream of.’
Koglu rubbed his boot heels in frustration. ‘You should have been a novelist, Colonel. Always weaving tales.’
‘I thought you liked fiction, General.’
Koglu sensed a loss of control. ‘You’re bluffing of course.’
‘No.’
Aslan’s ‘honest’ look incensed the general. ‘Are you saying, Colonel, you no longer possess the DNA weapon?’
‘Can Professor al-Qasr join this discussion?’
‘No discussion. You’re under arrest.’
‘But you do want something. You can use the intercom link with the laboratory. It’s here, General, here on my desk.’
The general inspected the intercom speaker housing.
‘Where do I switch it on?’
‘Press “Laboratory”.’
Al-Qasr sat in the dark, wrapped tightly in sealing tape. A hard-faced guard watched him, his Uzi submachine gun trained at the professor’s head.
The buzzer went on the intercom. The guard raised the butt of his weapon. The buzzing continued. The guard warily approached the intercom. As his right finger caressed the Uzi’s trigger-guard, his left hand glided over the possible buttons.
‘Try “Mess-room”.’
The guard pressed the button.
Al-Qasr leant towards the microphone. ‘Let me speak to Aslan.’
In the mess-room, Koglu nodded Aslan to answer.
‘Sami, listen to me. Our only chance is to explain the operation to General Koglu. Tell him straight, Sami. Don’t fuck this up.’
Al-Qasr smiled weakly at the guard, cold as stone by the door, then addressed his audience. ‘I want it to be known that I am, and always have been, a scientist, dedicated to truths that will help the human race in its evolution. I always wanted the world to know what I’ve achieved. This reward I have sacrificed.’
‘Noble bastard,’ muttered Ashe.
Aslan was irritated. ‘Just explain the plan, Sami.’
Koglu pushed Aslan away from the desk. ‘Come to the point, al-Qasr!’
Al-Qasr laughed maniacally. ‘Everyone wanted my weapon. Saddam wanted it. The Pentagon wanted it. Al-Qaeda… Everyone! Now you come to me with insults!’
Koglu interjected. ‘Keep making speeches, and your last chance will become your last words!’
‘Humility befits those standing on the holy threshold of genius, General. I have made the most devastating weapon to the nations of the world—’
Koglu erupted. ‘Bring al-Qasr here! Guard! Drag him to the main block!’