Алистер Маклин: Red Alert

‘Sure is,’ Ray replied with a grin.

‘Hey, look at it tryin’ to get up. It’s not going’ to get far on three legs.’

His companion laughed. ‘Shoot it in another leg. I bet you ten dollars you can’t.’

‘You’re on, Sam,’ Ray replied and raised the rifle to his shoulder again.

Graham, who had crept up silently behind them, struck Ray in the small of the back with the butt of the M21, slamming him against the side of the jeep. The Parker Hale fell to the ground. Sam made a move towards it.

‘If you pick it up, you’d better be prepared to use it,’ Graham threatened.

Sam swallowed nervously and stepped away from the Parker Hale. Graham picked it up and threw it into the water.

‘Who are you?’ Ray demanded, his face still twisted in pain. ‘There ain’t no law against us huntin’ round here.’

Graham ignored him, then reached inside the jeep and released the hand brake It rolled towards the lake. Graham hurried over to where the deer lay, its eyes wide and fearful as it struggled to stand up. He tried to comfort it by stroking its head. There was nothing he could do to save it. The leg was shattered. He shot it through the back of the head. Its body jerked, then lay still.

‘I hope you’re proud of yourself, boy,’ Graham snapped at Ray, who had managed to stop the jeep inches away from the water.

‘We was only havin’ some fun,’ came the sullen reply.

‘Is that what you call it? Well now, it’s my turn to have some fun. Take off your boots, both of you.’

‘Go to hell,’ Sam snarled. ‘You’ve got no right to threaten us like this. Ray’s right, we haven’t broken any hunting laws.’

Graham looked out across the lake.

‘One of the reasons I came to live out here was because of its seclusion. Hardly anybody comes around these parts. I could kill you both, dump your bodies in the jeep, and drive it into the lake. Your bodies would never be found. And if you don’t think I’d do it, call my bluff.’

Ray shook his head nervously. ‘We ain’t doubtin’ you’d do it, mister. If it’s money you want–’

‘Take off your boots!’

The two men exchanged glances, then untied their boots and kicked them off. Graham threw them as far as he could into the lake, then shot out the jeep’s back tyres.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Sam shouted, his eyes fixed on the deflated tyres. ‘We’re only carrying one spare.’

‘The nearest town’s Burlington. It’s about five miles from here. Ask for Charlie, he’ll sell you a tyre, if you pay him enough.’

‘How we supposed to get there?’ Ray wailed, staring at his stockinged feet.

‘If you run you should make it by mid-afternoon.’ Graham pointed east. ‘It’s in that direction.’

‘We’ll cut our feet to pieces,’ Sam said, looking around in desperation. ‘There’s nothing but forest for miles.’

‘Yeah, deer country.’

Graham shouldered his M21 and disappeared back into the undergrowth, deaf to the shouted pleas of the men behind him. It took him twenty minutes to get back to his cabin and as he neared the door he could hear his bleeper in the bedroom. He hurried inside and switched it off. The telephone beside the bed started to ring. He sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the receiver.

‘Mike?’

‘Speaking.’

‘It’s Sarah, from Llewelyn and Lee.’

‘1913104,’ Graham quoted his UNACO ID number.

‘Finally,’ she said, the relief evident in her voice. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you for the past two hours. Isn’t your bleeper working?’

‘I guess not,’ Graham replied, turning it around in his hand.

‘Bring it in, I’ll order a replacement from the Test Centre. Colonel Philpott wants to speak to you urgently. Oh, Mr. Kolchinsky’s just come in. He wants to speak to you.’

‘Michael, what’s going on down there?’ Kolchinsky barked down the line. ‘Why haven’t you been answering your bleeper?’

‘It must be acting up,’ Graham replied dismissively. ‘What’s the big panic?’

‘You’re on a Code Red standby. Nash has been waiting for you at the Burlington airstrip for the last hour. Pack some summer clothes, the Mediterranean can be very warm at this time of year.’

‘You’ve whetted my interest already.’

‘And don’t forget to bring your bleeper with you. We can’t have you running around with a faulty one, can we?’

Kolchinsky’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. He smiled to himself, then replaced the receiver and crossed to the cupboard to find his suitcase.

Sabrina found a space for her champagne-coloured Mercedes-Benz 500 SEC in the parking bay next to the United Nations Headquarters, then crossed to the Secretariat Building where she produced a pass to gain her entry into the main foyer. The pass identified her as an interpreter based at the General Assembly, the perfect cover considering her degree in Romance languages and her subsequent postgraduate work at the Sorbonne. She took the lift to the twenty-second floor, then walked to an unmarked door at the end of the corridor and punched a code into the numerical bell push on the adjacent wall. The door opened on to a small, neatly furnished office. Three of the walls were covered with cream-coloured wallpaper. The fourth wall was constructed of rows of teak slats, incorporated into which were two seamless sliding doors which could only be opened by miniature sonic transmitters. The door on the right led into the soundproofed UNACO Command Centre where teams of analysts, using the latest in high-tech equipment, worked around the clock to keep abreast of the ever-changing developments in world affairs. The door on the left led into Philpott’s office and could only be opened by him.

Sarah Thomas looked up from her typewriter and smiled at Sabrina. She was an attractive 31-year-old with short blonde hair who had turned down the possibility of a lucrative career in Hollywood after winning a beauty pageant and gone instead to secretarial college in Chicago. She had been with UNACO for four years and was married to the Test Centre’s senior martial arts instructor.

‘How was the vacation?’ she asked after Sabrina closed the door.

‘Short,’ Sabrina replied with a grin, then sat down on the couch. ‘Am I the first one here?’

Sarah nodded. ‘Mr. Kolchinsky’s gone to fetch Mike at the airport.’

‘And C.W.?’

‘He’s in Paris. Jacques Rust is flying up from Zürich to brief him.’

Sabrina indicated the desk panel. ‘Well, you’d better tell His Lordship I’m here.’

Sarah smiled then flicked on the intercom switch. ‘Sabrina’s here, sir.’

‘Send her in,’ Philpott replied, and the door slid open.

‘Afternoon, sir,’ Sabrina said as she entered the office.

‘Sit down,’ Philpott replied abruptly, activating the transmitter on his desk to close the door behind her.

She sat on the nearest of the two black leather couches.

‘I received a call earlier this afternoon from Miami’s Chief of Police,’ Philpott said, reaching for his pipe. ‘It seems-you not only went out of your way to embarrass this Lieutenant Grady in front of his own men, you also threatened him with physical violence.’

‘The guy was a creep–’

‘He’s a police officer!’ Philpott thundered. ‘You were supposed to be on leave. And that meant you didn’t have official clearance with any of the local law enforcement agencies. I had to pull a lot of strings to get you out of testifying at the trial. What if the papers had got hold of the story? My God, they would have had a field day. You drew unnecessary attention to this organization and that’s something I will not tolerate. Pull another stunt like that and you’ll find yourself suspended. Do I make myself understood?’