Exocet

14

Two of Roux's men stood against the wall holding Armalite rifles. Stavrou gave Villiers another push further into the room and tossed the Walther PPK across to Donner who caught it neatly.

'Found that strapped to his leg above the ankle.'

Donner turned to Montera. 'You see, a real pro. Of course, you do realise, colonel, that this raises a very big question as to sweet Gabrielle's role in this whole affair. I get the feeling she's not been strictly honest with you. I mean, the only possible explanation is that she's working hard for the other side.'

Montera said to her calmly, 'Is it true?'

'Yes,' she said.

'Holy Mother!' he said. 'I see it all now. It started in London, didn't it? Everything so convenient. And then Paris and the Bois.'

Her eyes were hot, burning. She wanted to speak and couldn't. She stood there staring at him. She opened her mouth, but no sound came.

It was Villiers who spoke for her. 'Try and understand, Montera. She has a half-brother, a helicopter pilot, killed flying off Stanley.'

Her nails were digging into the palms of her hands with the strength of her emotion. She started to shake and Raul Montera did a marvellous thing. He reached for the hands and held them tight, pulling her to her feet.

'It's all right,' he said. 'Be still.' He spoke as if they were alone and put an arm around her shoulders.

Donner said, 'My God, this really is cruelty to dumb animals.' He crossed the room and flung open a green baize door. 'In there, colonel. Make your peace or do whatever you have to. I want words with the gallant major here anyway.'

In Paris, Nikolai Belov was just about to retire for the night when the phone rang. Irana took the call.

'It's Donner for you,' she said.

Belov took the phone from her. 'How are things going?'

'More than interesting. Listen to this.' Donner gave him a quick run-down on the evening's events. When he was finished, he said, 'Have you done the usual search procedure on this one with your friends in French Intelligence?'

Although the scandal of the Sapphire affairs had rooted out most KGB infiltration of the French Intelligence system, Belov still had agents in important positions there.

'We've run a most thorough check and it's right up to the minute. I only received the final report an hour ago. I'd intended phoning you in the morning. Not even a hint of your activities at any level in the system. No one waiting for you, no traps.'

'But British Intelligence have certainly been on the ball. I wonder how.'

'Surely the woman's involvement and her interest in Montera answers that. Montera was the link. She met him in London and then, by chance apparently, in Paris. But no accident at all, as we now see, and the time scale is such that it can only mean British Intelligence were expecting him to turn up. If we've been blown I would say it's occurred at the Argentine end and nowhere else.'

'That makes sense.'

'You still intend to proceed?'

'No reason not to.'

'Fine, is there anything I can do for you?'

'Yes, as a matter of fact there is. I think it's time for a holiday back home in case there are any repercussions on this one. The Chieftain can make Finland with no problem. Can you recommend a suitable airfield to land at there?'

'Certainly. Perind. We use it frequently. I'll see that arrangements are made for onward transportation. By the way, a news item of interest tonight. Professor Paul Bernard was discovered in a warehouse by the Seine shot through the head.'

'Is that a fact? Any juicy details?'

'The police are pursuing their enquiries. You know how it is?'

'I certainly do. I'll be in touch.'

Belov put down the phone and sat there on the edge of the bed thinking. Irana said, 'What is it?'

He smiled and held her hand. 'I haven't taken any leave this year and neither have you. How would you like a trip to Moscow?'

'When?' she said.

'No time like the present. We could catch the Aeroflot flight at seven a.m.'

'I see. You have a bad feeling about this business?'

'Just a twinge and I'm too old to take chances.' He smiled again. 'You better phone through now and get the seats.'

The room into which Donner had pushed Montera and Gabrielle was a kind of butler's pantry and wine store and the window was heavily barred. She sat on a box and Montera lit a cigarette and waited.

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. 'Can I tell you about it?'

'That might be a good idea.'

'Tony and I were married for five years. We were divorced six months ago. Everything else I told you about myself is true. I missed out the fact that my mother is English and that she married again when I was quite small — an Englishman.'

'Which explains the half-brother.'

'Yes. I've worked in journalism as I told you, but I happen to have a gift for languages. I just soak them up. Always did, even as a child. Tony was frequently called upon to work with Group Four, that's the section of British Intelligence that deals with anti-terrorism. Brigadier Ferguson, who runs it, approached me to work for them on a number of occasions. Nothing very heavy. Mainly because of my language ability.'

'And I was one of these occasions?'

'Yes,' she said flatly. 'I was to try and find out if there was going to be any move against the Falklands.'

He laughed out loud. 'My God, I didn't know the first thing about it.' He shook his head. 'Serendipity again. The happiest of unlooked for events.'

'That's where it all went wrong,' she said. 'I didn't know what love was and then I looked across the room at the Argentine Embassy and saw you.'

'Yes, it was a rather splendid moment.'

'And I couldn't get you out of my mind. Worried like hell about you when the war started, even though I'd no idea you were flying. And then this damned Exocet business started and Ferguson sent for me. You were the enemy, he said.'

'And he was right.'

'I was going to stop, just couldn't go on with the lies and the deceit after you gave me the ring.'

'And then you heard about your brother?'

'I want it to stop, Raul,' she said simply. 'The killing on both sides. For all our sakes. If you take those Exocets back to the Argentine tomorrow, it simply means more bloodshed.'

He sighed heavily and shook his head. 'My side is losing, Gabrielle. Maybe the Exocet is all we've got left. What do you want me to do? I'm an Argentinian. Your Brigadier Ferguson is right. I am the enemy.'

She got up and moved to his side, and he slipped an arm around her waist.

'I'm tired, Raul, so tired. All I know for certain any more is that I love you.'

Her head dropped on his shoulder, he kissed the golden hair and said nothing.

'What happens now?' Villiers asked, when Donner came back into the sitting room. 'More fun with cigarette lighters?'

'No need,' Donner told him. 'My sources in Paris have given me every assurance that I can proceed as planned. Were you responsible for seeing off poor old Paul Bernard, by the way?'

'Who's he?' Villiers asked.

'Yes, I thought so.' Donner smiled. 'What did he tell you? Convoys on the road to St Martin? An ambush at dawn? Fairy stories for children, I assure you. I've something far better in mind.' He poured himself a whisky. 'And I wouldn't dream of damaging you at this stage of the game, major. They'll want you intact at KGB headquarters in Moscow. What a mine of information you'll be, and don't tell me you won't talk. They have some remarkable drugs these days.' He nodded to Stavrou. 'Let's have the others back in here'

Stavrou opened the door of the butler's pantry, and after a moment Montera and Gabrielle stepped out.

Montera said, 'What do you intend to do with them?'

'More to the point is what I intend to do with you, Colonel?'

There was silence. Montera waited, very calm. 'Yes, I should have known there was more to this thing.'

'Indeed there is. Major Villiers believed I would obtain Exocets for you by ambushing an Aerospatiale convoy on the way to St Martin tomorrow. The missiles are transhipped from there regularly to Ile de Roc off the coast which is a testing site.'

'So?'

'And you are expecting a Hercules transport from Italy to touch down in the morning at Lancy with ten Exocets on board, courtesy of Colonel Qadhafi and the Libyans.' He smiled. 'Both wrong.'

He crossed to a door in the far corner, opened it and disappeared. He was back in a moment, putting on a French Army officer's tunic.

'Good fit, isn't it?' he said, as he buttoned it up. 'Allow me to introduce myself. Captain Henri Leclerc in charge of a detachment of nine men from the 23rd Guided Missile Regiment, proceeding by road, tomorrow morning, to St Martin where a tank landing craft will be waiting to take them across to Ile de Roc.'

Villiers said. 'Let me guess. They won't even get as far as St Martin. You've going to work a switch?'

'Let's say we'll divert them to here and take over.'

'And then proceed to Ile de Roc?'

'There are only thirty-eight men on the island. I don't think we'll have much trouble. The gentlemen I've been keeping in the stables are very good at handling that sort of thing.'

'And you simply take the Exocets you need from their testing stock? You'll never get away with it.'

'Why not? Once we take over, all we need is a couple of hours. On the right signal, a deep sea trawler comes in and takes off the missiles and the men. She sails under the Panamanian flag, by the way. Once out to sea she's just one more trawler, amongst the hundreds that fish those waters from every country in Europe.'

Villiers, searching for a flaw, said, 'There's bound to be a standard checking procedure between French Army Guided Weapon H.Q. and outstations. If they get radio silence from Ile de Roc they'll want to know why.'

'But they won't.' Donner was enjoying himself. 'We'll maintain essential radio contact. I've got an ex-Army Signals man on my staff for that very purpose. Another thing, emergency procedures don't come into operation until they've experienced radio silence for three hours. That gives us plenty of time.'

And Raul Montera, who had listened to all this without speaking, his face hardening, said, 'But this won't do and you know it.'

'That's true. World reaction to such an action by the Argentinian government will be one of horror. One can imagine the row in the United Nations, and God knows what the French will do.'

'But this is not the action of the Argentinian government,' Montera said.

'Of course not, but as long as it appears to be, it's the same thing, and when the body of one of the Argentine's greatest air aces is discovered after we're gone, that should clinch things nicely. Accidents will happen, stray bullets and soon.'

He poured himself another drink. 'Why did you think I was so insistent on your government sending me someone like you in the first place?'

Montera was perfectly under control. 'Why go to all this trouble?'

'Simple. You've lost the war already, my friend. If you had heard the news tonight, you would know that British paratroopers have won an astonishing victory at a place called Goose Green. The rest of their forces have started the long march to Port Stanley. I regret to say it, but they are the best trained soldiers in the world. Galtieri made a mistake. His government will fall anyway, but a scandal of the proportion I envisage will blow the Argentine apart.'

'Fear, chaos and uncertainty,' Villiers said. 'The classic situation for your kind of takeover.'

'Let's put it this way. The idea of units of the Russian fleet being able to operate in the South Atlantic from bases of a friendly power is certainly an intriguing one.'

Gabrielle said, 'You really are quite something, aren't you?'

'I told you I'd grow on you.'

'And what happens afterwards?' Villiers asked.

'Simple. The commanding officer at Ile de Roc has a fast power boat in which Stavrou and I will return to St Martin. Once back, we fly out again in the Chieftain. First stop Finland, then the dear old homeland. I haven't been back in years. As I told you, you'll go with me. They'll love you in Moscow. You, too, of course,' he said to Gabrielle. 'I couldn't very well leave you behind, now could I, and you're too good to break?'

It was the first time that Montera's control snapped. He took a quick step forward, hands coming up. Stavrou grabbed an Armalite from one of the guards, reversed it quickly and rammed the butt into the Argentinian's stomach. Montera went down.

Gabrielle rushed to his side, dropping to her knees. Donner laughed as he looked down at them.

'The only good thing I can say about the cellars here is that there's a lot of them, they're very secure and the windows are barred. However, they are rather cold.' He turned to Stavrou. 'Put the three of them in together. An intriguing situation. They might have to bundle.'

Wanda had heard a great deal of what went on, crouched as she was beside the landing rail in the darkness above the main hall. She saw Stavrou and the two guards escort Villiers, Montera and Gabrielle across to the door which she knew led to the cellars. After a while, Stavrou and one of the men returned. Donner appeared from the sitting room as the guard went out.

He said, 'Everything okay?'

'Fine,' Stavrou told him. 'The doors on those cells are more than secure. Bolts an inch thick and I've left a guard in the corridor.'

'Good,' Donner said. 'Warn the men for a six o'clock start and make sure Rabier stays sober.'

'I will. What about Wanda?'

'Oh, yes, Wanda,' Donner said. 'I promised her something special. I've decided she can have you.'

'You mean that?'

'Of course. I wish you well to wear it,' Donner told him and returned to the sitting room.

Wanda felt physically sick as revulsion and fear coursed through her. As Stavrou hurried across the hall and started up the stairs, she got to her feet and moved along the landing in the darkness, blundering along the passageway beyond until she reached the door to the back stairs. As she opened it, light flooded out and Stavrou, at the end of the landing, saw her.

'Wanda!' he called.

She went through the door fast, slammed it behind her and plunged down the stairs, kicking off her high heeled shoes as she went. She managed to get the back door open, was outside and running across the lawn into the trees by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs.

She ran through the wood in panic, head down, an arm raised against flailing branches. Finally she paused to listen. She could hear him blundering about some distance away on her right. He called her name angrily and she moved away as quietly as possible.

A few moments later, buildings loomed out of the night and the realised that she had come round in a circle to the rear of the stables. By now she was wet through and chilled to the bone. As she moved forward, she saw a ladder against the wall, leading up to a loft. She mounted it as silently as possible, aware of a murmur of conversation from the men in the stables.

Once inside, she turned and pushed the ladder away. It fell into the soft rain-sodden ground with hardly a sound and she closed the loft door.

There was laughter below, light coming up through the odd chink in the planks. She found herself an old horse-blanket and crawled into the corner, covering herself with musty hay. She was shaking terribly, still filled with fear and repugnance about the thought of Stavrou. Very gradually, she got control of herself and after a while, she slept.

Stavrou said, 'God knows where she's got to. Nothing but rain and darkness out there.'

'Nowhere for her to go, she can't do us any harm,' Donner said contemptuously. 'I know my Wanda. The silly little bitch will come crawling back when she's had enough of the rain. Better go and check the men out now.'

Stavrou went and Donner tried on the tunic again. It really did fit him rather well. His official rank in the KGB was colonel. Once back in Moscow they'd probably promote him to general for services rendered. He wondered what that uniform would look like on him.

Gabrielle dozed in the corner, Villiers' jacket about her shoulders. Montera took a cigarette packet from his pocket and found it empty. Villiers offered him one.

As he gave Montera a light, he said: 'You remind me of an advert I used to see as a kid. It showed a man smoking a pipe and surrounded by beautiful women. It read: What's he got that other men haven't. The answer was the brand of tobacco. What's your secret?'

'Relationships are really very simple,' Montera said. 'They either work or they don't. The moment you have to try hard, you've lost.'

'Then I was in trouble from the beginning,' Villiers admitted. 'I seemed to spend all my time trying.' He glanced across at Gabrielle. 'A hell of a girl.'

'I know,' Montera told him.

'You would, wouldn't you?' Villiers said bitterly and went and sat on the bench in the corner, knees drawn up against his chest to conserve warmth.

He fell asleep and was finally awakened by the sound of footsteps in the courtyard. He looked out in time to see a Landrover drive out of the garage. Stavrou was at the wheel, Donner beside him. They were both in uniform. Montera joined Villiers and they watched the Landrover turn out of the gate.

'It's started,' Montera said.

'So it would appear.'

Gabridle stood up and joined them, pulling Villiers' jacket around her shoulders. 'What are we going to do?'

'For the moment, nothing,' Villiers told her. 'Because there's nothing we can do.'

The detachment from the 23rd Guided Missile Regiment travelled in an army three-ton truck, the officer sitting up front beside the driver. It was just after six a.m. and raining heavily when it came round a bend in the road near Lancy and found the Landrover blocking the way. Donner, a military raincoat over his uniform, ran forward, waving his arms.

The truck slowed, the officer wound the window down and learned out. 'What is it?'

'Captain Leclerc?' Donner asked.

'That's right.'

'Major Dubois, on assignment at Ile de Roc at the moment. Crossed over to St Martin last night with the landing craft to be ready to pick you up this morning, but this appalling rain is causing problems. Heavy flooding on the main road, so I thought I'd come to meet you with an alternative route.'

'That's very good of you,' Leclerc said.

'Not at all. Just follow the Landrover and I'll have you there in no time.'

Montera was standing at the window, peering out through the bars when the Landrover drove into the courtyard, followed by the truck.

Villiers and Gabrielle moved to his shoulder. 'Now what?' Villiers asked.

Donner and Stavrou got out of the Landrover and Captain Leclerc jumped down to join them. He was a fair-haired young man with glasses which were giving him trouble in the rain.

'Just exactly where are we?' he asked.

The stable doors opened and Roux's men emerged on the run, everyone in uniform and carrying either a rifle or a sub-machine gun. The whole thing was over in a few moments, the rest of the detachment ordered out of the back of the truck at gunpoint and hustled away with Leclerc.

Villiers turned to Montera. 'Clever bastard, isn't he?'

They heard the sound of boots on the stone stairs outside, doors opening, then closing again, bolts ramming home. Suddenly there was a movement at their own door, it was opened and Stavrou appeared, two men at his back.

'Right, Colonel, outside.'

Montera hesitated. His hand reached for Gabrielle's, clung for a moment, then he moved out. She didn't say a word as the door slammed home and Villiers slipped an arm about her shoulders.

Outside, the footsteps receded along the corridor and mounted the steps. Villiers went to the tiny barred window in the door and on looking out found the young French officer he'd seen in the courtyard, peering through the bars of the opposite door.

'Who are you?' Villiers asked.

'Captain Henri Leclerc, 23rd Guided Missile Regiment. What in the hell is this all about?'

'I rather think they're substituting themselves for you and your men, so they can land on Ile de Roc.'

'Good God!' Leclerc said. 'What for?'

So Villiers told him.

When he had finished, Leclerc said, 'And how does he intend to leave here when he gets back?'

'He has a plane waiting at a bomber station up the road at Lancy. A Navajo Chieftain.'

'He's certainly thought of everything.'

'And not a damn thing we can do about it now. Even if we got out of here and put out a general alert, it would probably be too late. Aircraft can't land at Ile de Roc. Even helicopters have problems.'

'That's not quite true,' Leclerc said. 'I was very thoroughly briefed on the island before my posting and there was some information about flying conditions which interested me as I'm a pilot myself. Did a light aircraft course with the Army Air Corps. They tried out landing small planes at the northern end of the island last year.'

'But I thought there were cliffs there.'

'True, but when the tide goes out it uncovers alarge area of firm sand. They found landing was no problem. Unfortunately the tide turns so quickly that it made the whole idea impracticable.'

'It certainly is while we're stuck in here,' Villiers said, and he kicked the door in frustration.

Wanda, the blanket wrapped around her, huddled against a window in the loft and peered down as the men she had slept above all night climbed into the rear of the truck.

Donner, Stavrou and Rabier, the pilot, stood at the bottom of the steps and as she watched, Stavrou tied Montera's hands together in front of him with a black silk scarf.

'See how kind we're being,' Donner said. 'But the truth is, I don't want any tell-tale marks on your wrists when they find you.'

'A true gentleman,' Montera said, and then Stavrou stuffed a handkerchief into his mouth.

Donner said to Rabier. 'Right, you're on your own. Those cellars are as impregnable as the Bastille, but keep an eye on them anyway. We should be back in five to six hours.'

'Very well, monsieur, you can rely on me.'

'And if that bitch Wanda shows up, put her down in the cellar till I return.'

Stavrou was by now at the wheel. 'Ready when you are, sir.'

Donner climbed into the truck, and it moved away. Rabier turned and went up the steps into the house. It was very silent in the courtyard now, only the hissing of the rain, and Wanda huddled beside the window and waited.