Exocet

'I see.' She leaned back on the table. 'What's your name?'

He grinned. 'That's more friendly. It's Paul. Paul Gaubert.'

She brushed past him and went outside. 'Heh, come here,' he called, as he ran after her and caught her by the right arm.

She said, 'Don't be stupid. I'm a guest of Monsieur Donner's.'

She pulled her arm free and sent him away with a vigorous shove of both hands. He staggered back for a moment, gaping in astonishment and, suddenly, there was only anger there. He dropped the shotgun and grabbed at her and she put her knee into his groin.

Donner and Montera came over the top of the small hill above the lake in time to witness the whole scene, including the timely arrival of Villiers, although at that distance they could not see the cold fury in his eyes as one hand fastened on Paul Gaubert's collar, the other on his belt. Villiers turned him round and ran him headfirst into the lake. The boy went under, came up gasping out of the shallows and up the bank.

'Gaubert!' Donner cried as he ran down the hill with Montera.

The youth glanced over his shoulder, a look of terror on his face, and took to his heels.

Villiers said to Gabrielle. 'Are you all right?'

'Fine,' she said, 'but could we change the script? This sort of thing's beginning to get a trifle monotonous. And watch yourself, we've got company.'

'I'm an Irishman on holiday staying at a bungalow not far from here. Michael O'Hagan.'

The Irish situation had forced the SAS to develop a language laboratory system teaching regional Irish accents to their men. Villiers could sound as if he'd been born and bred within five miles of Crossmaglen and Michael O'Hagan was an alias he had used before.

Montera arrived on the run, full of concern. 'Gabrielle, are you all right?'

'Yes, thanks to this gentleman.'

'O'Hagan,' Villiers said cheerfully in English. 'Michael O'Hagan.'

'I want to thank you, sir.' Donner took his hand. 'Felix Donner. This is my place, by the way, and this is Mr Montera and the lady you rescued is Miss Legrand. The creature who attacked Miss Legrand is a gipsy called Gaubert. I allowed a band of them to stay on the estate, which shows what happens when you treat people like that as human beings.'

'Happy to know you,' Villiers said.

'Just where did you come from exactly, Mr O'Hagan?'

'Just up there where the trees flank the road.' Villiers pointed. 'I was looking at the map, trying to get my bearings when I saw that character obviously trailing Miss Legrand. The rest, as they say, you know.'

'We certainly do. You're staying near here?'

There was little point in trying to pretend otherwise. Villiers said, 'At a little bungalow up the road with a friend. We're on a motoring tour of Brittany.'

He had tried to sound simple, open and ingenuous, and appeared to have succeeded. Donner said, 'Come back and have a drink with us.'

Villiers said, 'That's very nice of you, but perhaps some other time. I'm already later than I said I would be.'

Donner persisted. 'Join us for dinner tonight, then. Bring your friend.'

'I don't really have any decent clothes with me,' Villiers said, keeping up the image.

'Doesn't matter. All totally informal. Bring your friend.'

'All right. I can't speak for him though. He might have other plans.'

'Seven-thirty for eight.'

Villiers turned and walked briskly away. Montera said, 'Lucky he was around.'

'Yes, wasn't it?' Donner replied, frowning slightly.

* * *

At the bungalow, Villiers shaved and had a shower. When he went into the kitchen he was wearing slacks, a dark shirt and a tweed jacket. He had a Walter PPK in one hand and a roll of surgical tape in the other. He put his left foot on a chair, pulled up his trouser leg and taped the weapon just above the ankle.

'Daniel in the lion's den?' Jackson commented.

'Well, you never know. Comforting to have an ace in the hole. I'll see you later. Be good.'

He went out, got into the Citroen and drove away. Jackson poured himself another cup of coffee and reached over to switch on the radio. There was a sudden cool breeze on the back of his neck as if a door had opened. He turned quickly and Yanni Stavrou stepped in, a gun in one hand, two of Roux's recruits standing behind him.

* * *

Beyond the French windows the beech trees above the lawn were cut out of black cardboard against a sky that was touched with vivid orange. Inside it was warm and comfortable.

Gabrielle wore her yellow jump suit; Montera, jeans and a blue flannel shirt. Donner's concession to informality was to wear a mohair pullover instead of a jacket.

He glanced out of one of the French windows before closing it. 'We could have weather trouble tomorrow.'

'Let's hope not,' Montera replied. 'That was an excellent dinner, by the way.'

'That's Wanda's department, not mine. She does all right when she tries.'

The condescension was plain. Gabrielle said, 'It was more than all right. It was superb. I'd say she has real flair.'

'Don't tell her that, for God's sake. She won't be fit to live with.'

Wanda entered at that moment with a tray. She was the most dressed-up person there and wore a two piece trouser evening suit in black velvet.

She'd brought tea for Montera and Gabrielle. Donner said, 'You are trying, aren't you, but what about Mr O'Hagan here? All Irishmen drink tea, isn't that true, O'Hagan?'

'Oh, I don't know,' Villiers said brightly. 'I like a cup of coffee myself.'

The girl's hand was shaking as she passed him the cup and Gabrielle, angry again, turned to Montera. 'I feel like a little air. Shall we take a walk?'

'Why not?'

He opened a French window and they went out.

Donner said, 'A handsome couple, wouldn't you say?'

Villiers managed to look mildly surprised. 'Yes, I suppose so.'

'Tell me, what do you do for a living, Mr O'Hagan?'

'I'm a sales engineer. Oil pumps, mainly.'

'That must be a good line these days, what with North Sea oil.'

'Oh, yes.' Villiers glanced at his watch. 'It's really been wonderful, but I'm afraid I'll have to be going. We have an early start tomorrow.'

'What a shame. Still, it's been nice having you.' Donner walked through to the front door with him and opened it. 'I'd like to thank you again for what you did. I sent my man Stavrou along to sort that gypsy out earlier this evening, but by the time he'd reached the encampment, they'd all cleared off.'

They shook hands and Villiers went down the steps. Donner went back to the sitting room.

Wanda said, 'Can I get you anything?'

'No,' he said. 'Go to bed.'

'But it's early, Felix.'

He shook his head. 'You never learn, do you?' He ran the back of his hand down her face and she shrank back as if expecting a blow. 'That's right,' he said. 'Do as you're told and go to bed.'

Stavrou came into the room as Wanda went out. Donner asked, 'Is the car ready?'

'Yes.'

Donner went to the open French window. He could see the glowing end of Montera's cigarette on the other side of the lawn where he and Gabrielle talked.

'Heh, you two. I've got to go out for a little while. Help yourself to drinks, okay?' He turned back into the room, said to Stavrou, 'All right, let's get moving,' and led the Way out quickly.

* * *

Montera smoked his cigarette and leaned on the balustrade beside her. 'I seem to have done nothing but talk about my mother and my daughter. You must be bored.'

'But they're part of you, Raul. I want to know these things. They're important.'

'Yes,' he said. 'Life is nothing without roots, that's true, isn't it? We all need a place to rest our heads from time to time. A place where we can be certain of perfect understanding.'