Алистер Маклин - Air Force One is Down

Now he looked gloomily over his shoulder at the waning light, and snapped on his torch to study a sea-chart of the myriad of islands sprinkled around like seaweed between their embarkation port of Split and the Italian peninsula of Venezia Giulia.

Sonya sighed and looked for reassurance from the lights of Sibenik winking at them from the shoreline. The lights of the next coastal town of any size, Zadar, were more distant. She had been confident, based on the geographical relationship of the landing strip to the castle to the presumed location of the hostage caves, that Smith’s ransom island would lie somewhere between Sibenik and Zadar, which tied in with his necessarily generalised map reference. But they had covered the territory once, and it was coming up to seven o’clock, only an hour away from Smith’s deadline for placing the diamonds on the gibbet.

‘We obviously missed it first time,’ Tomlin declared. ‘We’ll have another look.’

‘But it’s almost dark now,’ she protested.

‘Nonetheless, we go on searching,’ Tomlin pronounced firmly.

There were three other boats in his flotilla, and he was in touch with English speakers aboard each of them.

‘Quarter the area again,’ the brigadier ordered, ‘and bear in mind that the island could be a hell of a lot smaller than it looks in the photograph. What we’re seeking may not be an island at all – just a rock.’

Tomlin returned to his chart. They rounded the island of Kakan with Kaprije to starboard and the larger bulk of Kornati to port. Murter passed to starboard and Zut to port, and ahead of them, lying off the seaward coast of Pasman Island, was another islet which Tomlin immediately identified.

He stabbed his finger on the chart and said ‘Lighthouse,’ with immense satisfaction.

Just then the beam of the light flashed on and swept the sea before them.

Sonya stammered ‘It’s th–there! Over there!’

On its return trip the light confirmed the fleeting impression she had gained. It picked out the flat bulge of Saucer Island, lying like an upturned dinner plate in the sea and washed by breakers. On the starboard rim of the island stood the gibbet.

The helmsman of their launch followed her pointing finger and steered the vessel through the chunky waves towards the little island. Tomlin held up the Polaroid and glanced from the snapshot to the islet, now transfixed in their lights and those of two other vessels in their fleet.

‘Spot on,’ he said, ‘well done, Mrs Kolchinsky. First-class piece of observation.’

The launch made a complete circuit of the island before drawing up and backing in to take position next to the curious pole with the horizontal arm.

‘Don’t get too close,’ Tomlin warned the cutter’s crew, ‘and no one, but no none, must make any attempt to land on the island. I don’t want anybody slinging hooks near that pole or prodding it with guns or anything else. We don’t want to berth there; we just want to get far enough in to let me drop this bag over that projecting arm, and we can do that while we’re still on the move. If we miss, we’ll try until we succeed.’

As it turned out, they needed three passes before Tomlin found his range and encircled the arm with the metal ring. He rubbed his hands together briskly and his teeth gleamed under the pencil moustache as he favoured her with a glowing smile.

‘Excellent,’ he pronounced. ‘Now we lay off and take posts.’

‘Where do you suggest we go?’ Sonya inquired, and Tomlin jerked his head at the neighbouring island.

‘No sense in staying out here in the cold when we can be sitting down over a steaming mug of cocoa,’ he chortled.

‘Cocoa?’ she echoed blankly.

‘Quite so,’ Tomlin replied. ‘Never knew a lighthouse-keeper yet who didn’t make jolly good cocoa. That’ll be our headquarters, ma’am, if you agree.’

Sonya grinned at him appreciatively and said, ‘Spot on, Brigadier. With you all the way. Cocoa it is.’

Tomlin barked into his communicator, ‘All units. Calling all units. Proceed to designated stations forthwith. Flagship will moor at the island 30 degrees to starboard, and the command post, offering a full view of the rock at all times, will be the lighthouse. If you read me, please acknowledge.’

Three Aldis lamps blinked in acquiescence, and Tomlin ordered his crew to proceed to the lighthouse while the flotilla, manned by armed marines, ringed Saucer Island and sat a quarter of a mile off like sharks waiting for dinner-time.

Smith received Sabrina with icy politeness, trusting she was none the worse for her encounters with Achmed at the castle and Dunkels in the helicopter.

‘Not at all,’ she said sweetly, ‘they behaved like the perfect gentlemen they obviously are.’

‘Or were, in Achmed’s case,’ Smith pointed out.

Sabrina tried to conceal her alarm at the news that he had learned of Fayeed’s death.

Smith, however, forestalled any lies she might have invented.

‘Of course I know Achmed is dead,’ he said, ‘and what is more I am aware that he was killed by Colonel McCafferty – the real Colonel McCafferty, if you follow me, not our ersatz and somewhat shop-soiled model.’

Again she wished she had a poker face, but what nature had not given her she found it impossible to assume. So she replied, evenly, ‘All of which indicates that you’re on the point of losing, doesn’t it, Mister Smith?’

‘To the contrary,’ Smith beamed, ‘Philpott will be able to do nothing to prevent me from picking up the ransom, and I have prepared a little surprise to guard my back. I am beginning to find these Arabs decidedly tiresome. No, Sabrina, I have not lost; neither shall I. All Philpott is doing sitting off my island with a–’

‘If you think that –’ she began, and bit her lip in anger.

‘I didn’t really,’ Smith purred. ‘Indeed, I imagine him to be much closer to my castle than to the seashore, since of course you were kind enough to supply him with the location of these caves through your communicator, and he would hardly have had time to get here yet, would he? No doubt he and Colonel McCafferty are at this very moment linking up with the agent Cooligan to plan how they can best launch their assault force on this stronghold.’

Once more she tried to keep her expression neutral, and for the third time failed. Smith laughed in genuine amusement.

‘My dear Sabrina,’ he chuckled, ‘there really is no point in submitting you to persuasion, when all one has to do is study your lovely face and get all the answers one needs. I have now learned that Philpott, possibly with McCafferty and Cooligan, are at or near my castle, and that far from possessing an army capable of defeating me, they may well be acting entirely alone. Probably they have some assistance at sea, where I would guess that the estimable Mrs Kolchinsky is holding the fort–’

Sabrina flushed and her lower lip quivered.

‘Bull’s eye again,’ Smith chuckled. ‘There we are, then, the complete picture.’ He beckoned to the grinning Dunkels. ‘Siegfried, give our beauteous “Brünhilde” some hot food, then take her to join the others, that they may all meet their Götterdämmerung together.’

He laughed full-bellied, and strode into the main cavern …

Philpott groaned and swore when Cooligan brought him and McCafferty up to date with the news of Sabrina’s capture.

‘How long ago did you get her message?’ he rapped.

‘Not ten minutes,’ Cooligan replied.

‘Damn, damn, damn,’ Philpott said, with feeling.

‘Why so gloomy, Chief?’ McCafferty asked. ‘Sabrina’s a tough cookie, isn’t she? Surely she’ll be able to take care of herself?’

Philpott’s response was a resigned sigh.