Exocet

'I wish to God there was such a place for me,' she said and there was a poignancy in her voice that went straight to his heart.

He said, 'But there is, my love. Tomorrow I fly back to the Argentine direct from here.'

'But I don't understand.'

'From Lancy. There's a plane putting down with war supplies. A Hercules transport. You could come with me.'

And she could, that was the truth of it. It would be so easy. At that moment, she was closer to telling him the truth than she had ever been.

* * *

When Villiers went in the front door of the bungalow he called, 'Harvey, where are you?'

There was no reply, but a radio sounded faintly and rather eerily from somewhere at the back of the house. Strangely enough he recognised it. A nostalgic record. Al Bowlly, the famous crooner of the thirties, singing Moonlight on the Highway.

The bedroom door stood ajar and Villiers paused on the threshold. Jackson sat at a table on the opposite side of the bed, a small radio playing beside him.

'Heh, Harvey,' Villiers said. 'What in the hell are you up to?'

And then he moved close enough to see that Jackson was tied to the chair. His cheeks were badly blistered, probably from repeated applications of a cigarette lighter flame. There was a bullet wound just above his right ear, small calibre as there was no exit wound, and the sightless eyes stared into the wall.

Villiers slumped down on the bed and sat there looking at him. Aden, the Oman, Borneo, Ireland. So much action, so much dying and Harvey Jackson always the indestructable one. And to go this way, at the end of things.

The door slammed against the wall behind him. His hand was already groping for the butt of the Walther as he turned and found Stavrou and two armed men facing him.

'A tough bastard,' Stavrou said. 'I couldn't get a thing out of him.'

'Yes, you train them well in the SAS, Major Villiers,' Felix Donner said. 'I'll give you that.'

* * *

Montera and Gabrielle were sitting by the fire talking together in low voices when the door opened and Donner entered. He closed it and came and stood with his back to the fire.

'This is nice. Damned cold out tonight.'

'Have you been far?' Montera asked politely.

'Far enough. You see I had a phone call early this evening from a friend in Paris. He'd been doing some checking for me on your girlfriend here.'

'What in the hell are you talking about?' Montera said angrily.

'Yes, Mademoiselle Legrand, or would you prefer Mrs Gabrielle Villiers, or didn't you know she was married?'

'Divorced,' Montera said. 'Your information would appear to be hugely out of date.'

Gabrielle sat frozen, waiting for the axe to fall. Donner said, 'Yes, but who was Mr Villiers, or should I say Major Villiers? Quite a man. Grenadier Guards and 22 SAS, would you believe? When my friend read his description to me over the phone a lot of interesting little pieces fell into place.'

He crossed to the door and opened it, and Stavrou pushed his prisoner through. 'Colonel Raul Montera, meet Major Anthony Villiers. I'd say you two have got a hell of a lot in common.'

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.'