Circle of Fire (6 page)

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Slamming into her bedroom, Maya had a major stress
attack, pacing up and down, thumping the furniture, kicking the wall. Finally exhausted, she fell onto the bed and lay looking up at the ceiling. If Pam was a prisoner in the farmhouse, what would happen to her? Please let her be OK, she prayed.

Rolling onto her side she stared up at the tattered target pinned to her noticeboard – a souvenir from the birthday treat at the Training Academy. Just two months ago, when she'd shot out the middle of the target and roared round the driving circuit, she'd had no idea that her life was about to take such a dark turn. Pam had been so proud of her that day. If only she could put her skills to use and do something to help.

Down in the hall the phone was ringing. The three house phones had been going all morning, so Maya didn't take much notice. Next moment, though, she was fully alert. Somebody was screaming her name and footsteps came running up the stairs. When Olivia burst in, Maya was already at the bedroom door.

Olivia grabbed her arm. ‘It's Pam. Quick! Down in the kitchen.'

Before Olivia had finished speaking, Maya was ahead of her, racing down the stairs and flying
into the kitchen. She picked up the receiver lying on the worktop.

‘Mum!'

She jammed the phone to her ear, her body shaking with excitement. Simon had flicked a switch to tape the call, and he watched as Maya listened. For a few seconds he saw Maya straight-backed, focused, then her shoulders sagged, her head drooped and she shouted desperately three times, ‘Mum, Mum, Mum!'

Helen moved in quickly. ‘What did she say, darling? What did she say?'

Maya's mouth was slack with shock. Her eyes stared without seeing.

‘She told me to look for the moon.'

Maya held onto the worktop. Her thoughts were all over the place. She stared at the necklace Helen was wearing – three strands of soft, milky-white pearls. ‘Mum wants me to go to Leeds,' she said. ‘She wants me to go to the bookshop.'

‘Did she say that?' Simon asked.

‘She told me to look for the moon.'

‘That's what Pam always said when she was leaving, when you were little and she was away a lot, don't you remember?' Helen said, gently. ‘You both promised to look up at the moon and think about each other.'

‘I know,' Maya said. ‘But this time it was more than that. I know it was. What she said – it wasn't like Mum; her words were flat as if she were reading
them. Then just at the end, just before somebody snatched the phone away, she whispered, “Look for the moon”. She said it urgently. It was a message, a secret message.'

Three pairs of eyes stared at her.

‘Mum knew I'd understand,' Maya told them. ‘And I do. I know what she was asking me to do – to go to the bookshop, the Red Moon bookshop.'

Simon's eyebrows shot up. He smoothed his hand over his spiky hair.

‘I see the connection,' he said. ‘But Pam wouldn't ask you to do anything so dangerous.'

Maya glared at him. ‘Mum trusts me.'

‘I'm sure she does, but even so.' He left the words hanging in the air as he pulled the tape recorder towards him. ‘Let's listen to the message,' he suggested. ‘See if there's any background noise, anything we can pick up.'

They all sat down at the table and listened to Pam's voice. For Maya and Helen it was heartbreaking. Pam's words were tense and expressionless. Then came the breathless instruction uttered at the end of the message, ‘Maya, look for the moon,' whispered quickly before someone pulled the phone away and cut her off.

The face of Khaled Husain swam before Maya's eyes, his green eyes hypnotic, as if beckoning her. She had a strong sense that she had to talk to him. She had to know if he'd betrayed Pam, or if he was loyal. Whichever it was, she was sure he held the key to finding her.

She was so preoccupied that it took a moment before she registered what Olivia was saying.

‘. . . an echoing, empty space – an empty building, an old building, I would imagine.'

‘Yes,' Simon agreed. ‘And did you pick up the sound of dripping water? Let's get the sound people working on it. See what else they can come up with.'

‘I'll make a copy and get it to them,' Olivia said.

‘Hm,' Simon said. ‘It fits with the empty farm building. The helicopter should be back in a few minutes. I need to get down there and coordinate operations.'

‘So, are you sending anybody up to Leeds?' Maya asked.

‘No need,' Simon said, reaching for his jacket. ‘There's already a surveillance team up there. They know about the bookshop.'

Maya's mind was buzzing. ‘So, you can get somebody to track him – arrest Khaled Husain.'

Simon's face wrinkled. ‘We don't want to arrest anybody at the moment. The balance is precarious. Let's see what develops.'

‘I'm sure Mum's in Leeds,' she said. ‘The kidnappers had northern accents. They could have moved her into a different car. They could have deliberately confused you.'

Simon picked up his briefcase. ‘I'm perfectly aware of that, but there are other things linking the kidnap to the farmhouse. I have to go,' he said.

‘Then I want to come with you,' Maya said, getting up.

‘That's out of the question.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I don't know what's going to happen.'

‘Then let me go up to Leeds. I could speak to this Khaled guy. Nobody would suspect me.'

Simon shook his head. ‘That's not possible, Maya. Your mother would never forgive me if I put you in danger.'

‘Where's the danger? You just told me Pam's not been taken north, that she's in the farmhouse. I'd just be talking to a guy.'

‘And what if he's the one who betrayed Pam?' Simon asked her. ‘No, we have specially trained
agents to do this sort of work.'

‘But I could go now,' Maya said determinedly. ‘Olivia could take me. Mum wouldn't have sent me a message if she didn't want me to find Khaled and talk to him.'

Simon shook his head. ‘No, Maya. I think you misunderstood.'

‘But she knows . . . she knows she can trust me. And she knows I'll be desperate to help, so she's giving me something to do. Don't you see? And I'm Muslim. Well, my family was. It wouldn't be dangerous because they'd think I was one of them. She wants me to go and speak to Khaled Husain, I know she does.'

Simon bit his lip and winced. ‘The best thing you can do for your mum is stay here and stay safe. She may contact you again – her message gave us three days.'

Maya was only half-listening, she was looking into the distance, her lips pressed together, biting at her nails. ‘Mum told me,' she whispered. ‘She wanted me to go.'

‘I have to leave,' Simon said, putting on his jacket. Picking up Pam's laptop he turned to Helen. ‘We'll let you know the minute there's any news.'

They watched him go across the garden, slip through the hedge and stride across the back field towards the helicopter.

Maya felt he was deserting them, and hope drained away as he disappeared from sight. She wasn't sure he'd really listened to her, treated what she'd said seriously enough.

‘I'm going up to my room,' she told Gran.

‘Why don't you stay down here? I'll make us all a cup of tea,' Olivia suggested.

‘Yes,' Helen said, ‘that would be nice.'

‘I want to be on my own for a while,' Maya said. Slowly she climbed the stairs, went into her room and locked the door behind her. Sitting down at the desk she reached into the back of a cupboard and pulled out her laptop, then she bent to open a drawer. Copying Pam's files had been smart, the one good move she'd made, and she congratulated herself as she slotted in the disk. Elbows on the desk, she propped her head on her hand, stared at the photo of Khaled Husain and re-read her mum's words –
Khaled Husain, Manager of the Red Moon bookshop.

It was true that when she was little and Pam's work had taken her overseas, they'd had an understanding that wherever Pam was, she'd look up at the moon
and think about Maya, and from her bedroom window Maya would do the same. One snowy night, the night before her eighth birthday Maya had been in their London apartment staring at the moon hanging above the city skyline, hoping her mum would be back in time to help her celebrate. It would be easy to think that was what Pam had been remembering – but Maya knew it was something more.

Scrolling down the report she read:

A group in Leeds calling themselves the Allied Brotherhood are the English cell of Red Moon. Self-styled leader of the AB is Omar Hamed.

Maya's mind flicked back. She pictured the driver of the silver Mercedes. She was certain he'd been watching her and Pam, waiting for them to reach a pre-arranged spot so that he could alert his men. It surely wasn't a coincidence that he'd driven past and scared them just before the jeep arrived.

Operation Red Moon is a plot to blow up major public attractions at weekly intervals in important European cities this summer. When the code word is given, their plan will be put into operation. The * marked characters are pledged suicide bombers.

Maya's blood ran cold as she scanned the rows of photographs. She was sure these were the
people who'd captured Pam. Bombings, shootings, beheadings – every gory picture she'd ever seen in the newspapers and on TV bloomed in her head. When she looked again at Khaled's picture, she saw it was marked with an asterisk. Just as before, his eyes seemed to be telling her something. Did he know where Pam was? Was he a friend or an enemy?

She leaned forward, scrolled down the screen and studied the other photos. Men with beards, mostly young, some wearing tight black caps, a couple with long hair under baseball caps. A few women, their heads covered, their eyes dark and unsmiling. Twelve photos marked with an asterisk – nine young men and three women willing to die for their cause.

Maya's eyes flicked over them, and one image in particular caught her attention – a man with a round podgy face who was almost smiling, his nose broad, a gap in his front teeth – but the most distinctive feature on his face was a scar across his forehead. She leaned closer, staring. It was him! One of the guys who'd grabbed her. She'd glimpsed the scar under his hood. It was unmistakable.

A deep shudder ran through her. Gripping the edge of her desk she closed her eyes. In the distance she heard the helicopter taking off from the back field.
Simon was on his way to the farmhouse, but here in front of her was evidence to show it was the Leeds group who'd captured Pam. Simon was heading in the wrong direction.

Her mum's words echoed in her head.
Look for the moon, Maya.
As she twisted the ring on her finger, her mind was flooded with sounds and pictures. Ear-shattering gunfire, the spatter of gravel, blood, thick and dark, draining life, glistening on grass.

She squeezed her hands together, saw a cellar, stone-cold and dark. A family in hiding, a little girl clinging to her mother's hand. From outside came the crack of rifles, the shouts of a crazed mob. Huddled together, the family waited. Finally the firing stopped. A door opened, footsteps thumped down the stairs.

That was the last time she saw her family. Pam had rescued her. She owed her life to Pam; now it was time to honour that debt.

Working quickly and quietly, Maya grabbed a small rucksack and threw in her mobile and some basic clothes: a fresh pair of jeans, knickers, a couple of tops. Skidding into the bathroom she scooped up toothbrush and toothpaste, caught sight of her face in the mirror, wiped a smear of blood from her upper lip and smoothed a dab of concealer over a graze on her cheek. From the hook on her door she picked up a jacket, put it on and was ready. Looking out of the window, she spotted two security guards on the back lawn and a host of TV cameras and journalists at the gate. Somehow she had to get out of the house without being seen.

Money! Scooting over to her desk, she snatched her purse out of the drawer, made sure her bank card
was in it and shoved it in the zip compartment of her rucksack. Hoisting the rucksack onto her shoulder, she tiptoed over to the door and listened. Somebody was coming up the stairs.

There was a light knock on her door.

‘Maya? It's Gran. Are you all right?'

She slipped back the bolt and put her head round the edge of the door. ‘Is there any news?'

‘No, nothing yet,' Helen answered.

Maya sighed. ‘I'll come down soon. I just want to be on my own for a while.'

‘All right, darling.'

She listened to Gran's footsteps fading and going downstairs. A pang of guilt struck her – if she left the house, she'd cause Helen more worry. But she had to go. She couldn't just sit around and wait three days – she had to do something.

Snatching up a notepad, she scribbled a quick note to Helen and left it on her pillow.
Don't worry Gran. I'll be back soon.
Then, tiptoeing along the landing she glanced over the banister into the hall below. There was nobody there, but spotting the cellar door gave her a great idea – a short tunnel led from the cellar to the old ice house in the back garden.

Blood racing, nerves trembling, Maya crept down
the stairs. At the end of the hallway she wrenched opened the cellar door. It creaked loudly. Without waiting to hear if anybody would come running to investigate, she moved forward onto the top of the cellar steps, closed the door behind her and was immediately swallowed by darkness.

Feeling for every step, she edged her way down. At the bottom it was slow-going, but she didn't dare put on the light. She crept forward, running her hand over the crumbling surface of the wall until she found the opening of the tunnel to the ice house. A damp, musty smell rose as her fingers traced the curve.

The tunnel seemed much longer than she remembered but, at last, her hand touched a smooth, hard, flat surface in front of her. Raking along what she hoped was the top ledge of the door, she touched something cold; it moved, and her hand closed round a key.