Payback (Paul Richter, Book 5)
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Hauled back early from an exercise with the SAS, Paul Richter is tasked with a short-notice extraction job. It goes unexpectedly well, and as a kind of reward he’s given an easy one: he’s to investigate the case of James Holden, a middle-aged Englishman living in Dubai, who appears able to predict terrorist attacks. It should be simple – a break in the sun and a couple of days’ work at most – but, almost as soon as he arrives in Dubai, he is diverted to Bahrain. Then it all starts getting complicated. Who is the secretive patient in the Manama hospital? Who has slaughtered a dozen people at a remote stable in Saudi Arabia just to steal one horse? And why has a US State Department jet carrying a specialist CIA team been diverted to Cairo? Nothing seems to make sense until Richter finally uncovers the outlines of a plot that will come to fruition during the world’s richest horse-race. But, behind the scenes, an even more complex scheme is being executed and Richter is in a race against time to prevent a catastrophic terrorist attack on the city of Dubai itself.
instruments had been incinerated, which meant they couldn’t be exercised, so that was entirely satisfactory. Those documents that had survived would probably be destroyed anyway. It had been, by any standards, a good result. They stood up, and Jackson walked away towards the stairs that led to the ground floor and the check-in desks. Richter watched her retreating figure, wondering if they would ever meet again, waved as she turned back to look at him at the top of the staircase, then sat down
loud or in the very near vicinity. That suggests the American was probably the man filming Assad’s statement.’ Hutchings opened his mouth to speak, but Westwood beat him to it. ‘Why the hell would some American be filming the last words of a Syrian suicide bomber who’s just about to kill himself in support of a political group that’s been effectively non-existent for a quarter of a century?’ ‘Sir, I have not the slightest idea, and neither has anyone else. That’s one reason for organizing this
at Legoland have strict rules about their employees fraternizing?’ ‘Point one: fraternizing was not what I had in mind. Point two: they’re never going to find out unless one of us tells them. Point three: you don’t work there, and nor do I, so they can stuff their rules. Now stop dithering about and pour me a drink.’ Chapter Eleven Thursday Sheraton Hotel, Manama, Bahrain Richter woke early. He glanced to his left, expecting to see Carole-Anne Jackson lying there, but the bed was empty. In
picked up the piece of paper on which he’d already made copious notes. Sheraton Hotel, Manama, Bahrain Richter was waiting in the lobby when Caxton and Evans walked in. Evans made the necessary introductions, then ordered drinks. ‘I’m sorry your trip out here has been to no purpose,’ Caxton began, ‘but we had to check the report, however unlikely it might seem.’ ‘It wasn’t a problem,’ Richter replied, ‘though the timing could have been better. If I’d got the call a day later I might have
troubled. ‘If we go busting into Nad Al-Sheba with all guns blazing, we’re going to cause a hell of a diplomatic incident.’ ‘Only if I’m wrong,’ Richter said, standing up. ‘And if I am, causing a diplomatic incident will be the least of my worries. Now, what weapons have you got?’ ‘Not many. Half a dozen Browning Hi-Power nine-millimetre pistols, each with two magazines, three privately owned hunting rifles and a couple of shotguns.’ ‘And?’ ‘And that’s it. Remember this is one of Her