Cell

28

Newman had decided he wouldn't drive up to the village. He wanted his arrival and presence to be secret. He parked his car in the triangular setback off the main climb. The Uzi machine-gun was taken out of its case, which he locked in the boot. He slung the weapon, now fully loaded with a magazine of forty rounds, over his left shoulder. A spare mag went into the pocket of his warm black overcoat. In his left hand he held his Smith amp; Wesson as he began yomping down the narrow sunken road Paula had called a rabbit warren.

Soon he was enveloped by the dense trees of Black Wood, growing above the steep banks. At intervals he paused to listen. He heard only the sinister silence of the wood. The moon was up but didn't penetrate down into the gulch. He was glad he had brought a pair of night-glasses, which turned everything he looked at green, but enabled him to see clearly. Sarge, who had trained him in the SAS when he was writing an article on the secretive outfit, had recommended them.

Two-thirds of the way down the gulley he paused again and listened. Only the sound of silence. He scrambled up the left bank and plunged into the wood. There was a mixture of big firs, the occasional pine and the leafless deciduous trees which reminded him of skeletons. Why think of that word at a time like this?

His sense of direction was good. He saw the glimmer of moonlight ahead, knew he was close to the edge of Black Wood. He proceeded more slowly. Then he was looking out across a field at the houses. Before leaving his car he had again studied the map Paula had provided. He had arrived just where he wanted to be.

A huge tall pine loomed above him. He began to climb, using convenient branches as rungs in a ladder. He was high up, near the top, when he found a natural settling place. Sturdy branches splayed out, concealed by the foliage. He perched the Uzi in a safe place, took out the water bottle from his satchel over his right shoulder, drank three modest swallows, capped the bottle. Now he felt full of energy. Sitting down, he pulled aside some of the pine's foliage.

There it was. About a hundred yards across a flat field. The bungalow to his right – Martin Hogarth's – appeared to have no lights. He extracted his monocular glass from the satchel, pressed it against his eye. Martin's bungalow jumped at him, its rear side. All the windows had shutters closed, but he saw gleams of light between the blades. Martin was still up.

He swivelled the glass to the next bungalow beyond the wide gap between the two buildings. Shutters again closed over all windows, but gleams of light filtering through them. Beaurain and Paula had taken up residence.

'They'll know we're up here somewhere,' Paula warned as she poured coffee. 'I know we drove slowly before we parked the car in Mrs Gobble's shed – where I parked mine when I ended up trapped in that horrible cellar.'

'That's all right.' The tall Beaurain was smiling as he gripped her shoulder briefly. 'We want to stir them up, worry them. That's when they'll make a mistake.'

She found his smile attractive. His air of confidence was also comforting. He'd taken off his windcheater and wore a dark polo-necked sweater. For comfort and dark in case he had to go outside. Made it more difficult to see him, as long as he kept out of the moonlight.

Paula watched him as she drank her coffee. A very athletic man, he couldn't keep still, kept striding round the large living-room, checking the shutters, checking his Uzi which he'd laid, loaded now, on a table near the front door.

'Don't get me wrong,' he said, turning round, 'but you can handle your Uzi?'

'Reasonably well.' She smiled as she glanced at her own weapon perched on the dining-table near the door into the kitchen. 'Barney, the instructor who gave me a refresher course at the mansion down in Surrey, kept me at it until I blew the bull's-eye area of the target to smithereens. Why are they so keen on Uzis down there? They have an armoury of other automatic weapons.'

Beaurain swallowed the coffee he was drinking. He smiled again. 'Probably because the Israelis, who invented the weapon, are so reliable.'

'Well, now you know,' she lectured him gently, 'you won't have to worry about looking after me if the balloon goes up.'

'I regard you…' he bowed '… as a totally reliable back-up. That is why, when we arrived, I gave you the key Marler had obtained from Billy, then let you go inside first while I kept an eye on the outside.'

'Just so long as you have confidence in me. I don't like men to feel I'm a liability which needs protection.'

'If the balloon goes up, as you said, you'll damned well have to look after yourself,' he told her with an engaging grin. 'There are two bedrooms. Choose whichever suits you and I'll take over the first watch.'

Ali was becoming bored with waiting inside yet another quiet public phone-box. He snatched up the phone the moment it began ringing. 'Yes?'

'Who is that?' the distorted voice demanded.

'Ali, of course…'

'Never again say "of course". You are a mere subordinate. So, who is that?'

'Ali.'

'Abdullah speaking. There are rumours the British army is moving into London in five days from now. How is your programme for the merger operation?'

'It is still two days from now…'

'Keep it that way. There is another problem, an emergency. Two members of the opposition have moved into the bungalow of Billy Hogarth. He was seen leaving, carrying cases to his car. He is staying at a small hotel in London. Since then two members of the opposition have arrived in the village and occupied Mr Billy Hogarth's bungalow. You have any extra men in the area?'

'Four. They are hidden in a deep hole in Black Wood. They are not needed for the merger..,'

'You can communicate with them?'

'Of…' Ali hastily changed his wording. 'Yes, I can.'

'You know which bungalow I refer to? There are two bungalows.'

'I know which which one you mean…'

'Then alert the four men. Tell them to kill whoever is inside. Tonight…'

The phone was slammed down. Bastard! It was an English word Ali liked. He would never dare to use it when talking to Abdullah. He took out his mobile phone, pressed numbers and gave the four hidden men their orders.