Floodgate

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Floodgate Page 30

by Alistair MacLean


  ‘It had.’ George looked thoroughly chagrined. ‘I thought it rather a good idea, myself.’

  ‘I don’t. I have no doubt that the Royal Air Force would have been delighted to comply and I have equally no doubt that within a very short time of our arriving at our destination we would have a visit from our paratroopers and commandos who don’t tend to beat about the bush very much. I don’t much care for that idea. Three reasons. I don’t want a fire-fight, a blood bath. Killing or capturing—killing, more likely—Samuelson and his friends would not be the final solution. There may be—in fact I feel certain there will be, don’t ask my why, I don’t know—enough of his men left to carry out the ultimate threat. Thirdly, I don’t much care for the idea of the young ladies being hurt or worse. I wouldn’t much like to gun down—wound, I mean, not kill—a countryman who was threatening the life of one of the girls.’

  Vasco said: ‘Julie and Annemarie?’

  ‘All four.’

  George said mildly. ‘The other two are criminals.’

  ‘They associate with criminals. Different matter entirely. Anyway, if the government were to commit this crass folly, we would be in a position to expose them and dictate our own terms. Wieringa and the Colonel would back us up and they’re the only two people who matter. However, this is all academic. It’s not going to happen. Moment, gentlemen. These denims are rather damp.’

  When he’d changed, he said: ‘Our absent friend O’Brien is missing in more than one way—he’s also the missing key. I’d give a great deal to know where he is at this moment. He won’t have gone to their other hang-out for his expertise in debugging and defusing alarm systems wouldn’t be called for there. One could speculate endlessly as to where he has gone to exercise his skills but that would be a waste of time.’

  ‘I’m neglecting my duties,’ Vasco said. ‘If I may be excused. George, would you come and switch the light on again?’

  He turned off the light, went into the bathroom and closed the door. No sooner had George turned the light on than Vasco tapped on the door. George switched the light off again and the bathroom door opened.

  ‘This may interest you,’ Vasco said.

  The sentry’s head was nodding, intermittently and at irregular intervals. After a few seconds of this he held it in an upright position then shook it from side to side. After a few more seconds of this—it was too dark to see what his expression was registering but it was, very probably, one of confusion and apprehension—brought up his right hand from under his rug, looked at the bottle still clutched in it, upended it and apparently established the fact that it was empty, placed it on the floor and pushed himself back in his seat.

  ‘He’s going to drop off again,’ Vasco said.

  ‘Not him,’ van Effen said. ‘He’s making a major decision.’

  The sentry made his major decision. He lifted his rug to one side, pushed himself groggily to his feet and took a few staggering steps that brought him perilously close to the loft doorway.

  Vasco said: ‘He’s drunk.’

  ‘Again, not him. He’s seen his bottle is empty and assumes because of that and the fact that he reeks of schnapps that he ought to be drunk and acts accordingly. Auto-suggestion, I believe they call it. It could have been a bit awkward if his relief found that he couldn’t wake him. Enough.’

  In the bedroom van Effen said: ‘I think we should go downstairs in a few moments. Including you, Vasco, if you feel strong enough.’

  ‘I’m a captain in the Dutch army. I’m brave.’

  George said: ‘You told Samuelson you wouldn’t be down.’

  ‘My mind changes along with the circumstances. It was freezingly cold out there. I require brandy. More importantly, I want to see their reaction to the news that the hunt for the FFF is now being concentrated in the Rotterdam—Scheldt area. Even more important is that I want those missiles, explosives and other nasties transferred from the truck to the helicopter.’

  ‘Why?’ George said.

  ‘The roads between here and the Rotterdam—Scheldt area will be alive with patrols tomorrow morning, police and army, but mainly, I suspect, army. My personal conviction is that Ylvisaker will be intercepted. I want those missiles because the FFF want them mounted for some offensive or defensive purposes and that should give them, from our point of view, owing to the fact that the missiles are totally useless, a splendid sense of false security.’

  ‘You should have been a lawyer, a politician, a Wall Street broker or a criminal specializing in fraud,’ George said.

  ‘Such devious minds don’t belong on the ranks of the police forces.’

  ‘Hark at who’s talking. I have also the hunch that the explosives, grenades and other sundries may prove to be more useful to us than to them. Just a hunch. Vasco, what do you know about the regulations concerning the transport of missiles?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing.’

  ‘Then let’s invent some.’

  ‘I’ll wager, sir, that I can invent better regulations than you can.’

  ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen!’ Samuelson’s crocodile smile would have shamed an archangel. ‘Delighted to see you. I thought you weren’t coming down, Mr Danilov.’

  ‘I just couldn’t sleep,’ van Effen said with a transparent honesty that would have shamed the same archangel. ‘As a Dutchman, even an adopted one, I just couldn’t—well, you understand—well, you know, Flevoland.’

  ‘Of course, of course. I understand. And the Captain—sorry, Lieutenant. Delighted to see you, my boy. I take it you are feeling better?’

  ‘My voice is not but I am,’ Vasco said hoarsely. ‘Thanks to your kindness, Mr Samuelson.’

  ‘The universal specific. I suggest another.’ He looked at van Effen and George. ‘Brandies, gentlemen? Large ones?’

  ‘You are very kind,’ van Effen said. He waited while Samuelson gave instructions to Leonardo. ‘You know that I am a normally incurious person, but two things take my attention. The ladies have returned. I was given to understand that they were still in a state of nervous exhaustion.’

  ‘As far as I can understand, they still are. Your second question?’

  Van Effen smiled. ‘My second question may give the answer to my first implied question. I see your TV is on again. I have by now come to understand that this means that you are expecting a further communiqué or statement or whatever in the near future.’

  ‘You understand correctly.’ It was Samuelson’s turn to smile, the usual avuncular one. ‘Both questions answered. You will excuse me a moment, gentlemen. I must tell the Reverend that it is earphones time.’

  Leonardo brought them their drinks. Van Effen thanked him and led the other two out on to the terrace. No one raised an eyebrow. Apart from the fact that they had already established reputations as eccentric fresh-air fiends, if they wished to have a private conversation they had already had a long time to have held it upstairs.

  Van Effen closed the door and said: ‘Well, what do we make of that?’

  ‘The four young ladies who appear to have recovered from their nervous exhaustion? They’re talking among each other, not animatedly, not very cordially, but they’re talking. And I don’t for a moment believe they’ve come down to watch this next broadcast.’ George sipped his brandy thoughtfully. ‘Somebody wants to talk to us.’

  Van Effen nodded. ‘Julie. Could be Annemarie, but my hunch is Julie.’ He looked across at the loft door where the sentry was now pacing to and fro, perfectly steady on his feet and looking every inch a man devoted to his job. ‘When we get back inside—which will be in a very few seconds, it’s like an ice-box out here—I want you to wait a few discreet minutes, then wander aimlessly around, playing the role of a genial, middle-aged Lothario—just act your natural self, that is—and see if you can’t have a word with Julie. Just a few words and don’t let her talk more than a few words with you. If necessary, just say the word “helicopter”. She’ll know what I mean, I’ll try to get next to her and no one can hear a word on
a helicopter. I don’t want to go near her myself. If Samuelson has got a leary eye for anyone, it’s for me.’

  ‘A bagatelle,’ George said.

  They re-entered the living-room, both van Effen and Vasco giving exaggerated shudders: George was too big and well-covered for that sort of thing.

  Romero Agnelli smiled. ‘Back so soon, gentlemen?’

  ‘Fresh air is one thing,’ van Effen said. ‘The Polar ice-cap another.’ He looked up at the flickering but silent TV set. ‘Mr Samuelson not down yet?’

  ‘He’s hardly had time to get upstairs and back, has he,’ Agnelli said reasonably. ‘Your glasses, gentlemen.’

  At the bar, van Effen said: ‘It’s a wild night outside and getting wilder. Do you seriously think it’s safe to fly tomorrow?’

  ‘Do you fly?’

  ‘As a passenger, a lot. I have—had—a pilot’s licence. Never been in a helicopter in my life.’

  ‘I have a licence for a helicopter. Total solo flying time—about three hours. In weather like this, you wouldn’t get me within a hundred miles of the pilot’s seat in a helicopter. Daniken’s had thousands of hours. Superb pilot.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief.’ Van Effen was aware that George and Vasco had drifted away: his eyes made no attempt to follow them. ‘Nice to think we might get there—wherever there is.’

  ‘If Daniken wasn’t sure he wouldn’t take off.’

  They continued an amicable discussion along those lines for two or three minutes until Samuelson reappeared, to all appearances his usual urbane and good-humoured self.

  ‘Any moment now, ladies and gendemen. I think we should take our seats.’

  It was the same lugubrious announcer and he seemed to have aged considerably since his last appearance.

  ‘We have two announcements to make, both concerning the FFF. The first is that London and Stormont, the Northern Ireland parliament, have arrived at an agreement to begin active and immediate negotiations with our government. Such negotiations have, in fact, already begun.’

  Samuelson beamed.

  ‘The second is that the government advises all citizens of the Netherlands to be of good heart. The Ministry of Defence suspects, although it has no reason to believe, that the FFF will be switching its scene of operations from the Ijsselmeer, where the dyke breaches and the explosion of this nuclear device are promised to take place tomorrow. This is because the FFF have established a practice of not striking twice in the same area. The balance of opinion is that they will concentrate on the southwest, most likely in the Rotterdam—Scheldt. The reason given for this announcement is that the government wants every citizen in that area—repeat every— because it affects every citizen, to be on continuous alert and report anything in the slightest way abnormal to the nearest police or army post. It is appreciated that this statement will also be picked up by the FFF, but the government regards this as the lesser of two evils compared to whatever use it may be to the FFF.’

  Samuelson was no longer beaming. Van Effen, forehead furrowed and lips pursed, looked at George, then, without altering his expression, at Samuelson and said: ‘I don’t think I like this very much.’

  ‘I don’t like it at all.’ His expression was almost a mirror image of van Effen’s and the fingers of both hands were drumming on the arms of his chair. After a few seconds he turned to van Effen and said: ‘And what do you make of this development?’ It was significant, van Effen thought, that Samuelson should have asked him first: it didn’t speak too highly for his confidence in his associates. Van Effen waited about twenty seconds before he replied: he already had the answers to most possible questions but Samuelson wouldn’t have been too impressed by an immediate answer.

  ‘I think they’re bluffing. Or, at least, counter or double bluffing. They may believe that you intend to strike next in some other spot entirely and that this is intended to put you off your guard and relax while they close in on where they fondly imagine you are, or they may not be bluffing and this may be intended to restrict your movements. Either way, they’re not very bright, but, then, the Minister of Justice, the Minister of Defence and the Chief of Police of Amsterdam are hardly renowned for their outstanding intelligence.’ George coughed softly into his hand but retained an impassive expression.

  Samuelson looked doubtful. ‘Don’t forget I’ve met Wieringa. He didn’t strike me as a fool.’

  ‘He’s not a fool. He’s honest, straightforward and the most popular man in government but lacks the devious intelligence to rise to the very top. Plots and counter-plots are not for him. Another thing, if the authorities knew where we were don’t you think we’d have had a visit from a battalion of paratroopers or commandos—or both—quite some time ago?’

  ‘Ah!’ The thought seemed to cheer Samuel-son up.

  ‘And still another thing. I’m told you have another operations centre somewhere. Why don’t you call them and see if they’ve suffered any harassment?’

  ‘An excellent idea.’ Samuelson nodded to Romero Agnelli, who dialled a number, spoke briefly and hung up.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said.

  ‘Again excellent,’ Samuelson said. ‘So we’re in the clear.’

  ‘No, we’re not.’ Van Effen shook his head in a discouragingly definite fashion. ‘Lieutenant, is there any chance that it may have been discovered that the truck and weapons are missing from the armoury from which we took them?’

  ‘The truck?’ Vasco said hoarsely. ‘Possible but unlikely. The weapons, no. The regular inventory isn’t due for another two weeks.’

  Van Effen said: ‘Mr Samuelson, it’s not really for me to say, but shouldn’t we change the identification numbers on that truck?’

  Samuelson also smirked. ‘Already done.’

  ‘Well done. But there’s more to it than that.’ Vasco spoke huskily and unhappily. ‘The authorities, as Mr Danilov says, may be operating in this area. Mention was made of both police and army posts. That means there may be police and army road blocks. Police road blocks present no danger. Army ones do. They know the missiles in transport—which is in itself an extremely rare occurrence—always travel in convoy. If you want to get them to their destination they’ll have to travel by helicopter.’

  ‘Not in my helicopter, they won’t,’ Daniken said firmly.

  ‘Mr Daniken, I believe you to be an expert helicopter pilot.’ Vasco’s voice being in the assumed condition it was, it was difficult for him to speak coldly, but his eyes were cold enough. ‘The cobbler should stick to his last. I’m an expert on missiles. A missile cannot be armed until it’s in flight. It’s obvious that you’ve never been in military helicopters. What do you think the Russian gunships use in Afghanistan? Pea-shooters?’ Daniken remained silent. ‘I also think the other weapons and explosives should be removed otherwise you’re more than liable to be asked what armoury you’ve taken them from and to what armoury or army unit you’re taking them. Mobile army controls tend to be very curious, very alert and very persistent—especially when they know there’s a national emergency alert out.’

  Daniken looked unhappy. ‘But the detonators—’

  ‘The detonators,’ George said comfortably, ‘will be in their velvet sockets, wrapped in cotton wool, in a lead-sheathed steel box and resting on my lap.’ He let a note of irritation creep into his voice. ‘Do you think I want to have myself blown up, far less your damned helicopter?’

  ‘I shouldn’t imagine so.’ It was Samuelson who spoke. ‘What do you think, Romero?’

  ‘I don’t have to think, Mr Samuelson.’

  ‘Neither do I. Totally agreed, gentlemen. Excellent precautions. We shall drive the truck down to the helicopter tonight and transfer the missiles and the rest of it after the staff have retired, which may be rather late especially as they, too, will be watching their TV sets at midnight. Not that it matters that much. They are well accustomed to the mysterious goings-on of film companies.’ He paused. ‘I wonder if one of you three gentlemen would care to supervise the t
ransfer of those materials.’

  ‘I will,’ George said immediately. ‘No coward like a big coward.’ He looked at Daniken. ‘It looks like being a rather bumpy flight tomorrow. As this is an ex-military helicopter, I assume you have clamps, lashings and other devices to secure things that, have to be secured?’

  ‘We have,’ Daniken said. He still looked distinctly unhappy.

  ‘Seems to be all,’ van Effen said. ‘Mr Samuelson, I’d like another snooze before this midnight broadcast. Not that I’m convinced that we’ll see anything. Even if there are ships or helicopters around with searchlights, visibility in this driving rain will be zero. George? Lieutenant?’

  ‘Me, too,’ George said. ‘Any more of this brandy and I’ll be dropping those detonators all over the place.’

  Vasco was already on his feet. Without as much as a glance at the four girls they left and made their way up the stairs. In the corridor above van Effen said admiringly: ‘You really are a couple of fearful liars. Have a word with Julie, George?’

  ‘Certainly not.’ George spoke in a lofty tone. ‘We professionals operate on a higher level.’ He produced a folded bit of paper from his pocket and replaced it.

  ‘Splendid. Vasco, we approach our bedroom door. Has anything occurred to you?’

  ‘Visitors.’

  Once inside, van Effen carried on a brief conversation about the weather, the best way of securing the missiles and other weapons aboard the helicopter and their conviction that the truck should have no trouble in getting through to its destination while Vasco carried out his usual meticulous inspection. After a few minutes he returned from the bathroom and put his fingers to his lips.

  ‘Well, me for bed,’ van Effen said. ‘Any gallant volunteers to keep the midnight watch?’

  ‘No need for anyone to keep a watch,’ Vasco said. ‘I have a travelling alarm.’

 

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