War Machine by Brian Andrews

Author:Brian Andrews [Andrews, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

the m1

north of london and heading south

1934 local time

The after-incident debriefs at RAF Coningsby had taken five hours and had been bloody murder, with Qasim and Arham put through the proverbial wringer by lots of men in uniform with stars and eagles on their lapels. Qasim had expected this and been prepared. On behalf of British Aero, he’d accepted the blame unconditionally and made no excuses. He’d promised the company would take full responsibility while at the same time doggedly building a narrative that the Valkyrie B must have crashed at sea.

It was, after all, the only logical explanation.

The drive back to London from the base had been equally painful. Instead of being berated by the RAF and Royal Navy, this time Qasim had been forced to rehash the events while British Aero execs yelled at him over the phone. He’d had two calls with the CEO already. And after those calls, he’d been forced to listen to Arham’s nervous, nonstop chatter about how such a thing could not possibly happen. For his part, Qasim participated in the conversation—brainstorming with Arham whether hardware or software was to blame.

“. . . you know how it will look for us,” Arham said.

“And how will it look?” Qasim asked.

“Oh, please,” Arham said, holding the steering wheel with a death grip, perspiration dappling his forehead. “An Afghan and a Pakistani are assigned to one of the most highly classified weapons systems in the UK, and it fails and disappears?”

“Are you saying they will say we are less qualified because of our national origins? That our engineering was not sound?” he asked, feigning ignorance at the implication.

“I’m saying they will claim we are responsible,” Arham said, his voice shrill. “They will say we are enemies—that we are terrorists.”

“Who will say such a thing, Arham?”

“Everyone,” Arham said, his voice rising still more. “But the engineering and my code are sound. That is one thing they will have to acknowledge, but that makes the mystery only deeper, and their suspicions of us will grow logarithmically. They will think we have sabotaged the drone.”

“I suppose . . . it’s possible,” Qasim said. “But we will cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m sure management will defend us.”

Arham eyed him with a dubious sideways glance. “If you believe that, then your experience in New Malden has been quite different from mine.”

Silence hung in the air between them.

Qasim’s mind’s eye turned to other urgent matters demanding his attention. He’d compartmentalized all day and played his role as Qasim the dutiful project director to perfection. Now, Qasim the leader of al Qadar needed to be sated. He had so many questions:

Had the drone landed successfully on the Dina Maltan?

Was it hidden and safe?

Had the identity of the second agent been discovered?

Had anything else gone wrong while he was out of communication with his principals?

Turning his phone so Arham could not see the screen, he logged into his secure messaging app and was bombarded by updates both magnificent and terrible.

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