The Judas Gate by Jack Higgins Read Free Book Online Page A

sitting in the first-class compartment of a British Airways jumbo-jet flight from Cairo. His name was Justin Talbot. He was forty-five and looked younger, favoured dark cropped hair and a slight stubble to the chin, the fashion of the moment. He wore jeans, a light open-necked khaki shirt and a dark blue linen jacket. His face was heavily tanned, as if he’d been out in the sun a lot, which he had, and had an aristocratic look to it.
    Members of the cabin crew had earlier noted that his English had a public school edge to it, and he spoke with a cynical good humour that they’d found as intriguing as the fact that he was described on the passenger list as Major Talbot.
    One of the girls approached and said, ‘It always gets boring with so few passengers. Not much to do.’
    ‘Nobody’s got any money at the moment. You’re lucky to have any passengers.’
    She smiled. ‘I suppose you’re right. We’ll be landing in an hour or so. You’ll be glad to stretch your legs, I bet. It’s a long trip, Cairo to London.’
    ‘Actually, I started in Peshawar yesterday. Stopped off in Cairo on business, then joined you.’
    ‘Pakistan! I hear it’s bad on the North-West Frontier these days. Are you in the army, Major?’
    ‘Not any more. Twenty-odd years was enough. Grenadier Guards. I did a certain amount in Northern Ireland, both Gulf wars, Bosnia and Kosovo, then two tours in Afghanistan. I was lucky to get out of that in one piece. When I was shot in the right shoulder,’ he smiled, ‘I decided that was it and took my papers.’
    He didn’t mention the Military Cross he’d earned in Afghanistan, and the years with the SAS and the Army Air Corps. The young woman nodded seriously. ‘You’ve done your bit, if you ask me. What do you do now?’
    ‘I work for the family firm, Talbot International. We sell trucks to the Pakistan Army, Jeeps, second-hand armoured cars and helicopters.’ He smiled. ‘Have I disappointed you?’
    She shook her head. ‘The other side of war.’ She hesitated. ‘Do you miss it? The dark side, I mean?’
    ‘Let’s say there’s nothing quite like it. There’s no drug that could possibly match the force, the energy, of the killing time in which you’re immersing yourself. War itself is the ultimate drug.’
    She looked a bit shocked. ‘Well… business must be booming, with the war spilling over from Afghanistan. Can I get you a drink?’
    ‘Large vodka would be good, with iced tonic water and a twist of lemon.’
    She was back in three minutes and handed it to him. ‘Enjoy.’
    He drank half of the drink straightaway and sat there, suddenly yawning. Since Lahore yesterday morning, he’d only had four hours’ sleep. He finished the drink, put theglass down, tilted his seat back. A hell of a trip, and Afghanistan had been particularly rough, but bloody marvellous. The buzz of action never failed to thrill him. It was what he’d missed when he left the army.
    You could make millions out of the sale of second-hand military equipment in Northern Pakistan—but there was a lot more money to be made from dealing in illegal arms. Even respectable firms were at it, and nobody was more respectable than Talbot International. Its Chairman, General Sir Hedley Chase, presented the face of integrity itself at the small but elegant office in Curzon Street. The real business took place in Islamabad, where dozens of firms jostled one another for advantage.
    It had been only a step from selling illegal arms to providing training in their use. He’d enjoyed every moment of that in the mountains over the border in Afghanistan, and then it had been only logical to take the next step—from training the Taliban to leading them in battle. He’d immediately been seized by the old thrill, and he felt no guilt at all.
    The surprise had been when Al Qaeda had discovered what he was up to, and not only approved, but insisted he continue. The strange thing was that there had been a thrill to that, too. It