‘Call waiting for you, Toby.’
‘I don’t believe it! It’s like hitting the jackpot today. Who is it now? The Sultan of Brunei?’
‘Brigadier Charles Radclyffe. Calling from London.’
‘Shit! The Director of Special Forces!’
Ashe took the call. ‘Good afternoon, Brigadier.’
‘Heard good things about you, Ashe, from Richmond and from Crayke. Pity our last meeting was cut so short.’
‘Indeed, Brigadier.’
‘Oh, call me Charles or DSF for God’s sake. You’re not in uniform are you, Ashe?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Well, you can tell me to fuck off, if you like.’
‘Rather not. Got a feeling you’ve something important to say.’
‘Bugger your feelings, Ashe. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the way we work in the SAS. Doesn’t matter. Listen. I’m in receipt of information sent by Richmond to our Operational Intelligence cell at Stirling Lines.’
‘Hereford.’
‘Correct.’
‘You call it “the Kremlin”.’
‘Correct again. Then you’ll also know that they disseminate intelligence to their operational planners. If the information calls for an operation, they contact me for my point of view and authority to proceed. If I agree with their assessment, I then task the Kremlin for a feasibility study. Now, Ashe, I have read their report concerning suspicious military activity in Iraq’s Hakkari Mountains. I have consulted with senior authority and have requested the Kremlin go ahead with plans to be submitted to the sortie commander. The sortie commander is Major Richmond.’
‘May I ask who is the relevant authority in this case?’
‘The relevant authority in this case is not unknown to you. He’s requested you be informed and liaise in strictest secrecy with the sortie commander. Am I making myself clear, Ashe?’
‘Very clear. Except for one thing.’
‘And that is?’
‘What’s the information, sir?’
‘Don’t ask me, Ashe! Contact OP/INT and do as they tell you. One more thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘How’s the investigation going?’
‘Investigation?’
‘Admiral Whitmore’s bloody Tower! Any closer to finding out who blew it up?’
‘Nothing certain yet.’
‘Well, I don’t know if this is any use, but I’ve been sent a curious message. Got it here in front of me.’
‘Care to share?’ Ashe was intrigued.
‘It’s a bugger of a thing. Cheap drawing paper. Written in charcoal. Rough capitals. Reads as follows: “THE TOWER OF BABEL IS NOT DESTROYED. AS CAIN SLEW ABEL SO WILL YOU DIE BAD. ABEL DIED SO SETH CAN LIVE. I SETH, THE IMMOVEABLE RACE, JUDGE.” Make anything of that, Ashe? Bloody foxes me.’
Ashe had a strange sense that he’d seen something like it before, but when? ‘I’ll give it some thought, sir.’
‘I’ve had a go. What’s all that stuff about Seth?’
‘It’s in Genesis. The Bible says that after Adam’s son Cain murdered his brother Abel, Adam and Eve had another child. This new child, Seth, was seen as a new hope for the human race after Cain’s crime. Seth had “the knowledge of God” and was a patriarch of science and wisdom.’
‘News to me, Ashe. What’s that “immoveable race” stuff all about? Sounds a bit Nazi.’
‘Some time after Christ, various groups appeared who claimed they were the Children of Seth, that they were the guardians of something pure, which had survived through time to reappear at the end of time. They saw themselves as the unmoveable or “unchangeable” race. A group that had held the true torch burning from the beginning of mankind. The original, undivided, inspired race.’
‘True torch burning? Sounds like some bloody weird cult. I’ll send this crap to you at Shrivenham in the diplomatic bag. Sounds right up your street, Ashe. Good luck. Over and out.’