Deadlock

53

'I want you to bring that Seagrave girl back in here now.' Chabot faced Klein, a Walther P. 38 automatic pistol in his right hand, muzzle pointing at the floor. The Frenchman's face was pallid with fatigue. Behind them on the platform Marler watched, holding his rifle.

'She stays out there, you fool,' Klein rapped back. He extended the control box in front of his waist, thumb poised over the red button. 'Put that gun back into your holster now. This very minute.'

'It's too much…'

'Shut up! Listen!' Klein's voice became matter-of-fact as he explained. 'Your knowledge of mass psychology is zero. They now have TV cameras recording the scene out there and soon pictures will appear all over the world.'

'What's that got to do with my request?'

The tense expression on Klein's face, the poised thumb, the steel in his voice frightened him. He slid the gun back inside his hip holster as Klein continued.

'People are stupid, very sentimental. This is something the tiny minds of those watching can take in. One girl on the verge of eternity. One slash of a knife and she hangs from her neck, choking her life out until she is dead. They can take in the fate of a single individual. The idea that two thousand people aboard those ships are at risk is too much for their feeble minds. Using Lara Seagrave as our hostage is my masterstroke. You will see.'

'I still don't like it,' Chabot repeated obstinately.

Then go down to ground floor level and stay there. Someone else can go up to the Space Tower. You are now in charge of the defences at the entrance. And remember, Chabot, if they should attack they will shoot down everyone in their way – if you let them get inside. So, if that happens, you kill them first. Go to the elevator. Don't come back.'

'The French can be so sentimental,' Klein remarked as Chabot disappeared inside the elevator.

'I don't like it too much myself,' said Marler who had walked in from the platform. 'You could have pushed them a shade too far.'

'Ah, that is a point of tactics you raise. You British can be very ruthless in your gentlemanly way. My judgement of psychology is better in this case. Now we are alone for a moment I will tell you your role in the escape plan.'

'Which is?'

'A Sikorsky will take off from Rotterdam Airport where it is now waiting for my signal. It will land on one of those large barges moored below. I shall board it with a team of men – still holding this control box. Your job will be to stay on the platform to cover me. From this height – with your talent with that rifle – you will be able to shoot down anyone foolish enough to try and prevent my escape.'

'Won't work. The moment your chopper is out of range of the ships offshore they'll be after you.'

'My dear Marler, I have thought of that. The Sikorsky will fly downriver above the Maas – towards the ships. The range will narrow, not widen.'

'Clever.' Marler leaned against the wall. 'What after that?'

The Sikorsky flies low, well below radar level. It flies on over the Adenauer and heads north for a certain Frisian island. There a large power cruiser is waiting to take us on board. By then they will have lost us. The cruiser takes us to a certain destination where we board a waiting executive jet. Comments?'

'You've left me carrying the can…'

'No, carrying this.'

From behind the seat where Lara had lain trussed up he produced an executive case, dumped it on the seat, snapped open the catches with his left hand. He gestured to the contents.

Marler blinked. Holding the rifle in one hand, his finger inside the trigger guard, he stooped over the case. Packed with neat bundles of banknotes. He sorted through several stacks at random. Fifty-pound notes. He made a quick calculation.

'One hundred thousand pounds,' Klein said.

Marler extracted one note, held it up to the light. He examined it carefully then stuffed it in his breast-pocket behind his display handkerchief. Closing the case, he replaced it behind the seat, straightened up.

'Hope you didn't print those yourself. If you have done, I will certainly find you. What about the big balance?'

'In bearer bonds, negotiable anywhere in the world.'

Klein patted his pocket. 'I give you them when the Sikorsky has landed.'

'Very neat. Except it leaves me here to face the music.'

'The second Sikorsky picks you up five minutes later. The pilot knows the route – again along the Maas- to another power cruiser waiting in the Frisians. You take the rest of the team with you. All the time I have you covered -with the control box aboard my helicopter.'

'Communication. In case of a spot of bother?'

"The pilot of the second Sikorsky will be in constant touch with my pilot. Any interruption and I press the button. You can explain the position to Tweed. He's an understanding type of chap, as you'd say.'

'What comes next?'

'The signal from. Brand at Findel – confirming the bullion is genuine, the right amount. Then the first Sikorsky arrives.'

'Neat,' Marler said again. 'What could possibly go wrong?'