‘We are advised,’ said James carefully, ‘by Grace Holbrook.’
‘Ah!’ said Sir George. ‘Wondered when you’d get round to consulting her. What had Grace to say?’
‘Well, we agreed there are three possible lines of approach: first, if we are to follow the advice of Moore-Simpson – send in an aerial barrampta which Fred insists on calling “trench strafing”, and when the air strike has softened up the opposition in the fort, by which I mean has destroyed their defences, we follow it up with a land attack by, shall we say, a force of five hundred Scouts with Mounted Infantry attachment.’
‘Doesn’t appeal to me very strongly,’ said Sir George.
‘Doesn’t appeal to me very strongly either. We could also turn to Edgar Burroughs and see what he’s got to say.’
‘Don’t bother,’ said Sir George. ‘I know what he’d say! “About turn! At the double! March!” Am I right?’
‘Substantially, yes,’ said James. ‘But as so often there is a third way.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Sir George. ‘”Third Way Jardine” they call me.’
‘Well, the fact is that the only person who can walk into Mahdan Khotal safely is Grace herself, as she has pointed out. They know her. They trust her. She looks innocent because she is innocent. I’m not sending her in there alone but any other European would last all of two seconds if he were seen to approach Mahdan Khotal. No one as far as I know has ever been there.’
‘I’ve never been there,’ said Sir George. ‘Seen it from a distance. Strong place! Couldn’t beat the door down with less than a division but in case you were thinking otherwise, Jock, I’ll just tell you firmly that you’re not going in there either! As far as the Afridi are concerned, and unless I misremember, you have what Joe Sandilands would call “quite a lot of previous” and, incidentally, what does Joe say about all this?’
‘You’d better speak to him.’
Joe came on the line and spoke rapidly. ‘Can’t let Grace go in there all by herself . . . can’t send in any uniformed British support . . . must send somebody with her . . . not really a problem . . . will go myself and before you say anything else – I shan’t be going in police uniform, I’ll be going in Scouts’ uniform with perhaps a couple of Scouts in support. Just as long as I look reasonably convincing from a distance I should be in a position, with Grace’s support of course, to open up a dialogue with Ramazad Khan. Dialogue . . . dealing . . . these are the only tools we can use in this situation; feats of arms are quite out of the question. But let’s not forget that Iskander knows me. I think if we can only sit down and talk about this sensibly we will make progress.’
‘Mm, yes,’ said Sir George, ‘Iskander. Mustn’t forget him. And I’ll tell you something and you must bear this in mind. It could just give you an edge.’ He paused for a moment for emphasis. ‘You will find that Iskander is far from popular with Ramazad Khan. We hold a balance – Ramazad holds a balance. He doesn’t want anybody to upset it. It’s my guess that he doesn’t want Rathmore in his fort, still less does he want Lily! What are they to him? Hostages? Guests? No, they’re damn nuisances! And yet Iskander has thrown down a glove and he’s not going to let him down by repudiating the tough stance Iskander has adopted. Oh, yes, there are angles to this you may be able to exploit. In a funny sort of way you may find that you and Ramazad are saying the same thing. But with a blood-stained question mark hanging over the ultimate fate of Zeman you may find him a little reluctant to admit it. Never forget that Zeman was his only remaining son, apple of his eye. And never underestimate the importance of a son to a Pathan father.’
He sighed and then added, ‘It looks bad, Joe, I can’t deny it.’
There was a further silence at the other end and for a moment Joe thought the line had been cut. After a while the clickings and mutters resolved themselves and the raucous interference on the line Joe was able to identify as Sir George clearing his throat. ‘. . . and look here, my boy, if you’re going to disguise yourself as a Scout be sure to have a photograph taken. I shall want to put one on top of my piano. When are you thinking of leaving?’
‘At dawn,’ said Joe.
Chapter Fifteen
Lily gasped, turned and fled mindlessly down the corridor with a half-formed notion of reaching the door and calling to Iskander for help. In four long strides Halima had caught her and, hands on both her shoulders, had spun her round and seized her firmly by the upper arms.