‘Thank you, thank you.’ Samuelson hurried round the bar, gestured to Agnelli to end the lecture and switched on the TV set. Within half a minute, the announcer appeared on the screen, a much younger one than previously, but one who had clearly been trained in the same mortician’s school.
‘The government have three announcements to make. The first is that the British government and Stormont have agreed to withdraw all British troops to barracks. As the troops arc scattered all over Northern Ireland this is expected to take several hours but the process is already under way. Although no statement to this effect has been made, this is taken to be indicative of London’s intentions.’
Samuelson beamed in satisfaction. At that moment, Ylvisaker was the last thing in his mind.
‘The second is that the British Foreign Minister, Defence Minister, the chief of the Imperial General Staff and the First Sea Lord are en route to Amsterdam in a VC10 to witness the detonation of this nuclear device in the Markerwaard at 2 P.M.
‘The third is that the government have offered an amnesty to the two as yet unnamed prisoners whose release has been demanded by the FFF. ‘We will, of course, be back on screen at 2 P.m.’
‘Well,’ van Effen said, ‘it looks like wholesale surrender.’ ‘Matters are certainly proceeding quite satisfactorily,’ Samuelson said modestly. ‘We will each take a minimum of luggage with us. This can be concealed in the rear of the helicopter — soldiers on active duty do not carry suitcases around with them. Lunch will be at twelve-thirty, so we have about two and a half hours to wait till then. I do not think it would be a good idea to indulge in any more jonge jenevers so I suggest we rest. Although we are not returning tonight we have quarters prepared for you, to which you will be shown. Tell me, Lieutenant, do you intend to have a snooze?’
‘No’
‘Then perhaps you would be kind enough to come down, say, every twenty minutes, and try to contact Ylvisaker?’
‘If you think it’s worth trying, certainly. I’ll go upstairs, have a wash, pack what little equipment I have to pack and be down in twenty minutes. After that, I might as well stay down. ‘Vasco smiled. ‘No furtive trips to the bar, I promise you.’
The room to which van Effen and his companions were shown was almost a duplicate of the one they had left in the other windmill. Vasco carried out his usual meticulous search and pronounced the room clear. Van Effen said: ‘Samuelson is rather concerned about the non-arrival of Ylvisaker and his friends who, I think we may take it, are at present being detained at Her Majesty’s pleasure.
More importantly, Samuelson seems to think that it’s all over bar the shouting. The possibility of failure doesn’t now exist for him. That’s a very dangerous state of mind to be in — dangerous for him, I mean.’ George said: ‘And what do you think he’ll do when he gets to the dam.’ ‘Take it over. I can’t see that giving him any trouble. Then he’ll tell the government that he has done just that. Coming so soon after the nuclear explosion in the Markerwaard, it should have a devastating effect on the government who will all too clearly appreciate the implications and realize that the FFF has the nation by the throat.’ ‘And then,’ Vasco said, ‘they blow a few bits of concrete off the dam just to show they mean business.’
‘Nothing like that,’ van Effen said. ‘Nothing so crude. The explosives are Agnelli’s idea. Apart from being a first-class organizer, Agnelli is a very prudent fellow. I believe that the explosives are for back-up purposes only, just in case something should go wrong. ‘What I do believe is that O’Brien knows as much about the controls of the hydraulic gates as the man who designed them. They just open the sluices.’
‘And if the authorities cut off the power from the mainland, if you can call it that?’ Vasco said. ‘Then, perhaps, the explosives?’ ‘There have to be standby generators, O’Brien will have checked on that. As far as the safety of the country is concerned, the sluice gates of the Haringvliet are the most vital installations in the country. Imagine the sluice gates being open at low tide and a major power failure occurs? They simply cannot afford to rely on a single source of power. ‘For the moment, however, and much more importantly, Samuelson and Agnelli have been kind enough to provide us with a detailed outline of their plans.’
George rubbed his hands. ‘And now we make our own plans.’ ‘Now we make our own plans.’
Some forty minutes after Vasco had gone down to the living room he was joined by Samuelson. Vasco, sitting on the radio chair and idly leafing through a magazine, looked up at his entrance.
‘Any luck, Lieutenant?’
‘None. I’ve called four times-every ten minutes, not twenty, as you asked. Nothing.’
‘Good God, good God!’ Unmindful of his own admonitions, Samuelson went behind the bar and brought back two jonge jenevers. ‘Ylvisaker is wildly overdue. What on earth can have happened to him?’
‘I’ve been thinking, Mr Samuelson. He hasn’t blown himself to pieces or the news would be all over the country by now. Let’s assume he’s had an accident or had a breakdown. Let’s further assume he doesn’t know how to operate the radio. What would you have done, sir?’ ‘Gone to the nearest phone and informed us. It’s difficult to move far in any direction in this country without coming across a house with a phone or a public call box.’
‘Exactly. Does Ylvisaker know the telephone number of this place?’ Samuelson stared at him then said: ‘Ylvisaker has never been here. Wait.’ He hurried from the room and returned within a minute, his face grim. ‘The consensus of opinion is that Ylvisaker does not know this number.’ ‘But you know the precise route he was taking?’
‘Of course. Two men, a fast car. Bound to intercept. Thank you, Lieutenant. I’m glad to see that there are some minds still working around these parts.’
‘Shall I keep on trying, Mr Samuelson?’
‘It’s a faint chance, isn’t it?’
Vasco shrugged. ‘Very faint. But nothing else for me to do.’ ‘Thank you.’ Samuelson brought him another jonge jenever. ‘Another trifle like this is not going to hurt a mind as clear as yours.’ ‘That is kind. I think I’ll have it on the veranda, if I may. It is a bit overheated in here.’
‘Of course, of course.’ Samuelson hurried from the room.
The car was a tan-coloured BMW with Antwerp number plates. Vasco watched the car and its two occupants disappear round a comer, finished his drink in a thoughtful manner, then returned inside. He went to the radio, switched wave-band and wavelength and said softly in Flemish: ‘Record.’ He spoke for no more than twelve seconds, then switched back to the previous wave-band and length. He tried again for Ylvisaker and was answered by the some silence. He refreshed his drink at the bar, resumed his radio chair, glanced through a magazine and again called the missing truck with the same lack of response. He tried twice more in the next twenty minutes with the same lack of response. He was still trying to make contact when Samuelson returned. He looked at Vasco, went behind the bar and returned with two more drinks. ‘Breaking my own rules, I know, but you’ve earned it and I feel the need for it. Nothing?’
‘Dead. I know Mr Danilov makes a point of being incurious about everything but I’m a serving army officer. just how important are those nuclear devices to you?’
‘Almost entirely psychological. If necessary, I would have used them to blow off both the northern and southern approaches to the Haringvliet dam.’ ‘Whatever for? No senior military commander in the Netherlands would dream of attacking the Haringvliet dam. Bombers? Never. Fighter planes? Never. Not only is your gunship more than a match for any fighter, not only do you have ground-to-air missiles, you will have a large number of hostages whose lives they would never imperil. Destroyer? Torpedo boats? Ground to-ground missiles are heat-seeking. They’re lethal.’