“Don’t be bloody ridiculous,” he shouted. “They’re gunships, for Christ’s sake!”
The helicopters were circling sufficiently close for the cannon to be visible through the cutaway sides, heavy-calibre weapons with their bandoliers of tracers looped at the ready. There was an operator and armourer at every opening.
One of the Africans began shooting wildly, hand bucking with the recoil from his pistol. The answering fire was deafening, timed bursts coming from each helicopter as it reached the bridge area. Shells from the first ricocheted harmlessly from the flat decking at the stem. The others were aimed intentionally wide as well, either in the air or plucking up a churn of spray from the head or sides of the vessel. Erlander and Edmunson threw themselves below the rail line.
“What can we do?” said Edmunson frantically.
“Nothing,” said Erlander. He had always known it would happen one day; he wondered how difficult it was going to be from now on.
Makimber crawled up alongside. “There are rockets in the cargo,” he said. “Get us down to the holds.”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Erlander wearily. “There are eight of them up there. Where do you think they came from? There’s obvious backup. We don’t stand a chance.”
“Look,” said Edmunson in confirmation. Through the rail venting, the warships could be seen, approaching in line-abreast formation.
“I want the rockets!” shouted Makimber.
Erlander screwed around so that he could sit with his back to the rail. “We’re in international waters,” he said. “We stand a chance if we argue. If we try to fight, they’ll blow us out of the water.”
“We’re sending men aboard,” announced a metallic voice, echoing across the water from a bullhorn. “If there’s any resistance, the next shot won’t be fired wide.”
Erlander and Edmunson stood up, and at the captain’s gesture distanced themselves from the still-crouching Africans. Six of the helicopters maintained the encirclement but the remaining two dropped low again, flattening the water with their downdraught. Erlander watched as the rubberized dinghies flopped into the water, to self-inflate before the wet-suited men splashed alongside, immediately hauling themselves aboard. It was expert and quick, outboard engines starting almost at once. Still unsure whether there would be any further firing from the Bellicose, the dinghies split wide and approached from different angles. Overhead the gunships stopped circling, hovering instead in an uneven but solid line, their cannon trained upon the Bellicose.
“Jesus!” said Edmunson, his voice a mixture of horror and admiration.
The commando group was ten strong. They came alongside the launch, occupying that first. Four spread out along its deck, covering the higher superstructure of the freighter with 9-mm. machine guns to enable the remaining six to climb up the rope ladder that Makimber and his party had used earlier.
They had kept their rubber suits on, even the hoods, so there was no designation of rank.
“My ship is in international waters,” said Erlander.
“Right,” agreed the unidentified leader, a muscular, moustachioed man.
“So you have no lawful authority for this attack. You’re committing an act of piracy.”
“Right again,” said the man.
Erlander felt a lurch of despair as he recognized the accent. “Get off my ship!” he said.
“Bollocks,” said the man.
“And so it comes to a happy conclusion!”
“I hope so,” said Grearson. Instinctively he gazed from the kiosk towards the surrounding buildings, wondering where the bastard was: he hoped he would be present at the exchange and get his ass burned by Evans.
“I’m glad you were sensible in the end and did everything we wanted.”
“Shouldn’t we be finalizing things?” said Grearson impatiently.
“We’ve got to be careful.”
“Set it out,” demanded Grearson.
“It may be that you have something in mind for the handover. A little surprise for us. So we’ve got to take precautions against that. We’re going to split them up, Tewfik and the woman. He’s going to be taken to an address and left there. He’ll be quite safe and unharmed- just unable to move about. Only the girl will know the address. The people who come to meet the freighter won’t, so there’ll be no point in seizing them. If the exchange goes according to plan, then you’ll be told where the girl is. Get to her and then you get to the boy.”
“No,” said Grearson at once. “That doesn’t give us any guarantee at all.”
“It gives you what you want, the boy back. But on our terms. And they’ve always been our terms, haven’t they?”
Azziz wasn’t going to like this tape, the lawyer knew. The pendulum had swung, greatly to his disadvantage. “How soon after the exchange?” he said.
“As soon as we’ve made sure that the weapons are there… that there’s no stupidity, then you’ll get the address of the woman, the same way as you got the two sets of photographs, through the harbour master’s delivery. She’s quite close, maybe an hour away. You should have the boy back two hours after we get what we want.”
He didn’t have a choice, realized Grearson. “All right,” he said.
“No stupidity,” repeated the man. “The boy is going to be shackled in the cellar of an empty house. It’s in its own grounds, so he wouldn’t be heard, even if he were able to call out-which he won’t be, because he’ll be gagged. Behave properly and he’ll be free in two hours. Do anything silly and he’ll starve to death. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said Grearson. “I understand.”
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” said the Russian, replacing the telephone. He had other calls to make. He still hadn’t sent the instructions to the ship off Algiers.
And when everything was arranged, there were the French police to be alerted.
“We’re sure the Bellicose didn’t get a message out before the seizure,” said Muller.
“Thank you,” said Piet Deaken.
“So your daughter-in-law should still be safe.”
“How long can you keep it under wraps?” asked the old man.
“As long as we want,” said the security chief. “Days, if necessary.”
“I hope to God it doesn’t go on for days,” said Deaken. “That girl must be going through hell.”
34
The noise of revving engines beyond the shuttered windows awoke Karen. She lay momentarily disoriented and then turned sideways, realizing that she was alone in the bed; she hadn’t been aware of Levy leaving. She was dressed and waiting when Leiberwitz came for her, gloatingly hostile.
“It’s over,” he said.
Karen stared back, saying nothing. Levy would keep his promise not to abandon her-she was sure of it. She wished he had woken her up earlier.
“You’re to come now,” said Leiberwitz.
Azziz was already at the table when she got downstairs, with Kahane standing guard at the door. It was open and through it she could see lorries lined in the driveway.
“They’re taking me somewhere,” said Azziz.
“What?”
“Another house,” said the boy.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Levy entered hurriedly from the garden, flushed and obviously excited; his demeanour altered when he saw her and she got the impression that he was embarrassed. He said something to Kahane and Leiberwitz which she didn’t catch and then came farther into the room.
To the boy he said, “Ready?”
The Arab stood uncertainly, and Kahane called from the doorway, “We’ll take you to the car.”
Levy waited until Azziz had left with the two men and then said to her, “I’ll be back.”
“When?”
“Soon. Maybe an hour.”