Exocet

'And then what? Back to Rio Gallegos and that Skyhawk Squadron?'

'What do you think?'

'That you're exactly that kind of holy fool. You've lost the war, Raul. It's over. You saw the evening papers. We're on our way. Those Commandos are walking across North Falkland to Stanley. Everybody said it couldn't be done, but they're doing it. The only thing standing between the British army and total victory is maybe nine or ten thousand men dug in around Stanley and what's left of your air force.'

'Exactly. While I've been playing games up here in Europe, the rest of my boys have been getting blown out of the sky down there in the South Atlantic.'

'So you want to join them?' Villiers was surprised to find he was actually angry. 'I know, don't tell me. A matter of honour.'

'Something like that.'

'And Gabrielle? She loves you, you know that and where she's concerned, I'm an expert. Oh, a failed expert, perhaps, but I know this. She never looked at me like she looks at you. I never saw her smile like that.'

'There's nothing left for Gabrielle and me, not after what's happened,' Montera said.

'Can't you understand?' Villiers told him. 'She was in a hole she couldn't get out of. Ferguson held all the cards.'

Montera laughed. 'I understand perfectly, but there's her brother to be considered.' He shivered slightly. 'He would always be between us, Tony, can't you see that?'

His name was called over the tannoy. He dropped his cigarette, put his foot on it and smiled. 'That's it, then.'

He held out his hand and Villiers took it for a moment. 'Good luck. I'm afraid you're going to need it.'

'What the hell does it matter as long as it's quick?' Montera moved to the gate and turned. 'Do your best for her, Tony,' and then he was gone.

Villiers went into the bar, sat in the corner and ordered coffee and Cognac. He felt restless and out of sorts. Damn the man. As he'd kept saying himself, he was the enemy and yet it seemed such a waste. He had another Cognac, then went out, found an international call box and phoned the Cavendish Place number.

Ferguson said, 'You're phoning from Charles de Gaulle, I presume? You've seen Raul Montera off?'

'How in the hell did you know?' Villiers demanded.

'Pierre Guyon and Section Five of the SDECE have been watching you two ever since you arrived at Brie-Comte-Robert, Tony.'

'Then why didn't they stop him leaving?'

'Because the only place they want him is back in the Argentine. The French want this one nailed down tight. It never happened, understand me?'

'Of course, sir,' Tony Villiers said. 'Just another of my regular nightmares.'

'I presume he's gone back to play heroes again?'

'Something like that.'

'Ah, well, that's no longer our concern. There is one more rather important item I'd like you to handle for me, Tony. It concerns Gabrielle. My information is that she'll be back in Paris tonight.'

'What is it, sir?'

'You see, Tony, right in the middle of things, she started to crack, as you know. Wanted out, remember?'

'So?' Villiers said, and suddenly his stomach was empty as if he knew by instinct that it was going to be bad.

'I needed to do something drastic to pull her together, so I told her that Richard was missing in action, believed dead.'

'You mean it wasn't true?' Villiers said.

'He's fine, according to my latest information,' Ferguson said. 'Still in the thick of it, of course.'

'You fucking bastard,' Villiers said and slammed down the phone.

He started to run across the concourse towards the gate into the international departure lounge and then slowed to a halt. Too late to catch Montera now. Far too late. He turned wearily and moved towards the main doors, wondering what on earth he was going to say to Gabrielle.

16

On the terrace of the big house above the River Plate outside Buenos Aires, Donna Elena Llorca de Montera sat in a cane chair and did a little embroidering. It was something she hadn't done since she was a young girl, but these days she found it helped if she kept her hands busy.

One of the maids came out from the sitting room. 'There is some one to see you, Donna Elena. A lady.'

Her mistress paused and looked up frowning. 'A lady.'

'A French lady. A Senorita Legrand.'

Elena de Montera said calmly, 'Please show her in.'

* * *

Gabrielle paused in the French windows, then came forward slowly. 'Donna Elena?'

The old woman sat there, looking at her without expression for a while and then nodded. 'Yes, I see exactly what he meant. Now I understand everything.'

'Where is he?' Gabrielle said. 'I must see him. I've something to tell him of vital importance.'

'But that's impossible. Raul is at Rio Gallegos, flying with his squadron, or what's left of it.'

Gabrielle slumped down in a chair on the other side of the table. 'Is Linda here? He talked a lot about Linda and you.'

'I've sent her to friends in the country. It seemed the best thing to do in the circumstances.'

'What you mean is, you expect to hear he's been killed in action at any moment?'

'It would appear likely.' She lit a cigarette and pushed the pack across to Gabrielle. 'Cheap ones, the kind dockers use, but I can't smoke anything else. My son, when he returned from France, breached security completely, quite simply because he didn't care any more. He told me everything. He loves you very much.'

'I know that.'

'So much, that he discounts your activities for British Intelligence as being of no consequence, an opinion I'm certain our esteemed President would not agree with. However, Raul was deeply distressed by the fact of your brother's death. It is something he felt would always be between you.'

'But they lied to me!' Gabrielle spread her hands. 'My people lied to me, to keep me in line! Richard's fine, still a helicopter pilot on Invincible, but alive and well.'

'Mother of God.' Elena de Montera put a hand to her eyes for a moment, then looked up again. 'Were you aware that my son had your name painted on the nose of his Skyhawk?'

'Yes,' Gabrielle said.

'I have friends down there who keep me informed as to his doings. When he got back, he had an extra word added. Apparently it now reads, Gabrielle Gone.'

Gabrielle took a deep breath and placed her hands on the table to steady herself. 'I must see him. I'll go to Rio Gailegos.'

'My dear, you wouldn't get anywhere near the place. It's a restricted military area. On the other hand, General Dozo, Commander of our air force, is one of my dearest friends. Let's go inside and I'll make some phone calls.'

'If you only could,' Gabrielle said.

'Men, my love, are easy enough to handle as long as one understands their conceit.' She put an arm around Gabrielle's shoulder as they crossed the terrace. 'You look tired. I'll get Rosa to make you a cup of tea. It is tea you drink, I believe?'

As they went in through the French windows, Gabrielle started to laugh helplessly.

* * *

It was just before four o'clock in the morning when Raul Montera moved across to the windows of the operations room at Rio Gallegos and peered outside. It was pouring with rain, the apron, where three Skyhawks waited, awash with it as the ground crews worked on them in the light of the arc lamps.

The young pilots who were to fly with him filed out and Montera turned, finishing the last of his tea. The room was empty now, only the chairs, the large scale charts of the Malvinas on the wall, the cigarette smoke. Someone had left a cigar burning on the edge of an ash tray. He stubbed it out carefully, then picked up his helmet and went outside.

He was tired, more tired than he had ever been in his life before. As he took a deep breath and started towards the planes a staff car came up round the corner and pulled up beside him. The door opened and Lami Dozo got out, pulling a greatcoat over his shoulders.