Those in Peril (Unlocked) by Wilbur Smith Page A

stupid enough to try to keep it.’ He looked at his wristwatch. ‘Another seven minutes,’ he said. When it came it was a single tremendous blast, the night sky lit as though by the sunrise. Seconds later the shock wave from the explosion swept over the dhow, flapping the canvas of her sail and pressing in against Rogier’s eardrums for a painful instant. Then the glow faded away and the darkness descended once again.
    ‘Let the infidel try to find her now,’ Kamal said with satisfaction.
    ‘How many days’ sailing to Ras el Mandeb?’ Rogier asked. ‘Six, is it?’
    ‘Longer,’ said Kamal. ‘We cannot set a direct course. We must get well inshore of the Kenyan coast, and merge with the other small shipping.’

    D eep snow on the Farnborough runway in England had delayed her for thirty-six hours, so it had taken Hazel almost four days to return from Abu Zara to the States, but even then she had not headed for her principal home in Houston. She had come directly to Washington DC.
    Henry Bannock had always maintained a large, old-fashioned apartment on East Capitol Street overlooking Lincoln Park. It was not the most salubrious section of the city but Henry had liked to be close to the seat of power whenever the Senate was in session. For the same reason Hazel had kept the apartment after his death, but she had renovated it entirely. It was an ideal position from which she could launch an assault on the Administration. Ever since her arrival she had bullied and pestered Senator Reynolds from Texas and the staff at the White House. She had already been granted a short meeting with the President, who had promised her that he would take a personal interest in the search for the Dolphin and her daughter. Bannock Oil had been a major contributor to his campaign funds. Despite her left-wing leanings Hazel always believed in two-way bets, so she made large contributions to both Republicans and Democrats for just such an eventuality, and now Hazel was calling in all her markers.
    An Airforce Colonel Peter Roberts from the Presidential staff was unofficially assigned to be her liaison officer during the crisis, and even Hazel had to admit that he had performed sterling service in difficult circumstances.
    Already a US military observation satellite had been diverted to make two reconnaissances, overflying the area of the Dolphin ’s last contact at heights of 47.5 kilometres and 39.8 kilometres at orbital velocities of almost 7,000 mph. Unfortunately, it had not been able to record a significant contact. There were three very large container ships and numerous much smaller vessels in the area, but nothing that could possibly be the Dolphin .
    In addition the USS Manila Bay , a guided missile destroyer, had been diverted southwards by Presidential orders from its patrol station in the Gulf of Aden off the Yemeni coast. However, it had over 1,200 miles to sail and it had not yet reached the area.
    Colonel Roberts had urgently contacted all the American embassies in the Middle East and African mainland. Using the President’s authorization, he had initiated delicate enquiries with all the governments, both friendly and antagonistic. None had offered any encouragement. Apart from Cayla’s truncated text message there had been no other trace of her or the Dolphin . The days were wasting away and Hazel Bannock was nearing her wits’ end. The telephone on her desk in the East Capitol Street apartment rang. She had been hovering over it and she pounced on it before it could ring a second time.
    ‘Bannock,’ she said. ‘Who is this?’
    ‘Peter Roberts, Mrs Bannock.’ She did not let him continue, but cut in brusquely,
    ‘Good morning, Colonel. Do you have any news for me?’
    ‘Yes, I have some news.’ The tone of his voice made her take a sharp breath. It was not encouraging.
    ‘Have they found the Dolphin ?’ she demanded, but he avoided the question.
    ‘I would prefer not to talk on this line. I would like to come