Exocet

'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.