Payback - John Hayes Series 06 (2020), стр. 10
“Yeah, mate, Steve.”
“Steve, you can try the aid agencies, I’ll give you some contacts, but it’s unlikely they can or even will help you. There’re millions of people there who need their help. People who belong there. Your niece, she’s, I’m guessing by your accent, Australian?”
“Yeah.”
“Why is she there? I’m guessing she’s not an aid worker. Journalist?” Craig didn’t wait for an answer, “No, I would have heard about her. My guess is she joined the Jihadis, am I right?”
“Yup,” Steve sighed.
Craig nodded slowly. “No-one will help her. She shouldn’t be there. Even though our governments are supporting these rebels behind our backs, they are officially terrorist groups. H.T.S. was declared a terrorist organization back in 2017. If she’s involved with them, you won’t get any sympathy from anyone. No government in their right mind will help her out.”
“So, you’re saying I should ignore my niece and her daughter and leave them there to die?” Steve raised his voice.
On the screen, Craig held his hands up. “Hey, I’m just letting you know how it is. There’s no point in me sugarcoating it.”
“Fuck.” Steve thumped the table and stepped back from the laptop. Maadhavi placed a hand on his shoulder, and he shook it off. “Fuck,” he cursed again, then walked out of the room.
John glanced at Adriana, then pulled out a chair and sat down in front of the laptop, Adriana moving to stand behind him.
“Craig, I’m sorry. It’s his only niece.”
Craig had lit up another cigarette. “Yeah, I’m sorry too. It’s a shitty position to be in, but there’s no point in giving him false hope.”
“No, you’re right.” John looked down at the desk for a moment. “What if we go in and get her?”
Craig stared at John, then took a long puff on his cigarette.
“Have you ever been in a war zone before?”
“No.”
“Any military training?”
“No.”
“Do you work for the government?”
“No.”
“What’s your background, John?”
“I’m... an ex-banker.”
Craig shook his head and gave a wry smile.
“And Steve?”
“An ex-cop. He’s a private investigator now.”
“No chance.”
“I’m very resourceful. So is Steve.”
“Sorry, John, but you are dreaming.”
16
John rubbed his face with both hands and turned his head to look up at Adriana. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Through the window, they could see Steve sitting out on the patio, Maadhavi sitting close beside him, a comforting hand on his leg.
Turning back to the screen, John sighed.
“The girl has a daughter. I think she’s only about two years old... she’s sick.”
“Look, John, I wish I could say something to help, but it’s brutal over there. You can’t just wander in and travel around. Do either of you speak Arabic?”
“No.”
Craig studied him through the screen. John matched his gaze until Craig looked away and tapped the ash from his cigarette.
“Craig, I will back Steve every step of the way on this. I owe him, and I don’t mean just a favor. He saved my,”—John glanced back to Adriana—“our lives once. It’s the least I can do.”
Craig nodded and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He looked to his right as if looking out a window. John could see him thinking, weighing a decision.
“Let’s say you can get across the border. I might be able to help you. I know a guy, but you can’t get in through Turkey anymore. It’s impossible. They’ve built a wall along the whole border. It’s three meters high and in places, two meters thick. There are minefields and regular patrols.” Craig lit up another cigarette. “I always cross from Iraq. I fly to Erbil in Iraqi Kurdistan, then drive down to the border. My guy might get you across there. It’s not patrolled as much.”
John nodded as he typed notes into his phone.
“Once you are in Syria, you’ll have to cross the entire country from East to West. First through Kurdish controlled territory, then Syrian government territory. In the government area, you’ve got the Syrian Army, the Russians, the Iranians, and Hezbollah. There are checkpoints everywhere.” Craig puffed away on his cigarette. “If you make it to the rebel-held area around Idlib, you’ve got the Turks and H.T.S. If the Turks don’t get you, the H.T.S. will. And they don’t take kindly to westerners interfering in what they’re doing. You could end up on YouTube with a black bag over your head and a knife at your throat.”
John felt Adriana’s grip on his shoulder tighten.
“If you survive all that, there are air and drone strikes, IEDs, and booby traps.” Craig flicked ash from his cigarette and leaned forward. “John, I’ve seen stuff you can’t imagine, by both sides. I can’t sleep at night.” He waved his cigarette at the screen. “My only wish is I live long enough for these bloody things to kill me instead.”
John stared over the top of the laptop at the wall behind it, chewing on his lip. It sounded impossible, but he couldn’t let Steve down. Steve had looked after him; he should at least try. He looked back at the screen.
“Okay, so now tell me the difficult parts.”
Craig studied his face for a moment and then broke into a grin.
“You’re a crazy bugger, John. Okay, this is what we’ll do. You sleep on it, think it over. If you still want to go ahead, I’ll put you in touch with my guy. He’s a smuggler. He’ll get you over the border. It’ll be expensive and don’t trust him completely. He’s a slimy bastard and may sell you out to the next highest bidder given the chance. Once over the border, you’ll be on your own. So, let me know what you decide. The good news is, right now, there’s a temporary truce being negotiated between all the sides, so there may not be much fighting going on. Let’s hope it lasts while you’re there.”
“Thank you, Craig. I appreciate it.”
“Good luck, John. Send me your number. If I think of anything, I’ll call you. In fact, I’ll message you a link right now. It’s a live map