Алистер Маклин - Red Alert

‘I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.’ Calvieri cut the connection and smiled at Sabrina. ‘What did I tell you?’

‘What did you mean about it being in the news?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘I thought the whole point of the exercise was to keep the media in the dark.’

‘It is, while we’re here. But I intend to hold a press conference once I reach my final destination. I want the world to know what happened here today. And I’ll exploit it to the full. The capitulation of the smug Western governments who have always vowed publicly never to bow to so-called terrorism. They will be humiliated and discredited in the eyes of the world. The Red Brigades will become legendary. But more importantly we’ll have sent out a message to our revolutionary comrades fighting for justice the world over. And that message will be: we can win. We will win.’

‘You’re deluded,’ Sabrina said, shaking her head sadly to herself.

‘Am I?’ Calvieri said almost to himself, as he picked up the receiver to call Philpott.

Philpott consulted Kolchinsky’s list after he had spoken to Calvieri. Teams One and Three were the closest to the building. He bleeped them then chewed the stem of his unlit pipe as he anxiously waited for them to call, his eyes continually flickering towards the desk clock as the seconds slipped away.

Graham and Marco located the white Audi Quattro within a minute of contacting Philpott. It was parked fifty yards away from the building.

It had been positioned for maximum effect. A plaid rug lay crumpled on the back seat. It had diplomatic plates which later turned out to be false.

‘We need a piece of wire to unlock the door,’ Marco said.

‘To hell with that,’ Graham replied, then picked up a rock from a nearby flowerbed and pitched it through the driver’s window. He reached through the broken window to unlock the door, then used the rug to brush the glass from the seat.

Two security guards, who had seen what had happened from their posts at the main gate, sprinted across to the car, batons drawn. One of the guards prodded Graham painfully in the chest with the tip of his baton and ordered him in German to put his hands on the roof of the car.

Graham punched him. The guard fell as if pole axed. The second guard shoved Marco aside but found himself staring down the barrel of Graham’s Beretta. Whitlock and Paluzzi arrived breathlessly, having been alerted by the sound of breaking glass. Whitlock immediately pushed Graham’s gun hand down to his side. Paluzzi was about to reach for his NOCS card when Vlok emerged from the building and ran towards them, shouting at the guard to leave Graham alone. The guard did as he was told. Vlok looked down at the unconscious man, then took the second guard to one side and explained briefly about the bomb. The guard, obeying Vlok’s orders, dispersed the small crowd of onlookers, then turned his attention to his colleague sprawled beside the open car door.

‘Was that necessary?’ Vlok asked, indicating the unconscious guard.

‘We’ll discuss that later. Right now we’ve got a bomb here that’s due to go off in,’ Graham paused to look at his watch, ‘eleven minutes.’

‘Can’t you defuse it?’ Vlok asked.

‘It’s booby-trapped. We don’t have the time or the equipment to deal with it,’ Whitlock told him. ‘We’ve got to get the car off the premises as quickly as possible.’

Graham slid behind the wheel to hotwire the ignition.

‘There must be a secluded spot somewhere around here,’ he said without looking up. ‘We can leave it there and let it blow.’

‘It’s too dangerous,’ Paluzzi said. ‘The vibration could trigger off an avalanche on one of the surrounding mountains. Perhaps more than one avalanche. We can’t risk it.’

The engine spluttered then died. Graham cursed angrily, then reached under the wheel in another attempt to start the car.

‘What are we going to do?’ Vlok asked anxiously.

‘Water, that’s the only answer,’ Whitlock replied after a moment’s thought.

‘Water?’ Vlok said with a frown.

‘A gorge, a lake, even a swimming-pool would do. If we can immerse the car in water, it’ll short-circuit the wiring in the bomb and that would stop it from exploding.’

‘There is a lake not far from here,’ Vlok said. ‘It’s very small.’

‘How far?’

Vlok shrugged helplessly. ‘A five-minute drive, about that.’

‘Did you hear that?’ Whitlock asked Graham.

‘I heard. We’ll get going as soon as I can get this started.’

The engine coughed into life. Graham revved the engine, then gestured for them to get into the car.

‘What have you in mind?’ Whitlock asked.

‘You’ll see. Now get in.’ Graham turned to Paluzzi. ‘You guys tell the Colonel what’s happening.’

‘How will you get back?’ Marco asked.

‘I’ve got that covered,’ Graham replied, closing the door.

‘Good luck,’ Paluzzi said, hitting the roof with the palm of his hand.

Graham reversed out of the space, then spun the wheel violently and sped towards the red and white boom gate

‘What’s the plan?’ Whitlock asked from the back seat.

‘There’s a police car parked outside the main gate. It can give us an escort to the lake. We’ll get there in half the time.’

‘In theory,’ Vlok said.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Graham asked, glancing at Vlok in the rearview mirror.

‘The quickest route to the Lottersee, that’s the name of the lake, is on the old Berne–Thun road. It’s only used by lorries now that the N6 has been built. It’s a narrow, twisting road and overtaking is virtually impossible.’

‘It gets better by the minute,’ Graham muttered, then trod lightly on the brake as they neared the boom-gate.

‘I’m not saying we’ll encounter any traffic,’ Vlok said, trying to appease Graham. ‘Most of the lorries use the N6 anyway. But it’s best to be warned.’

Graham stopped the car but kept it idling. Vlok told the guard to raise the boom gate It was raised and Graham drove through. He pulled up beside the police car. Vlok got out, identified himself to the uniformed policeman behind the wheel, and told him about the bomb in the boot of the Quattro. The policeman listened in disbelief, then leaned over and pushed open the passenger door. Vlok got in beside him. The policeman started up the engine.

‘Wait,’ Graham shouted at the policeman above the drone of the siren. He turned to Whitlock.

‘Out. If I’m going to drive this baby into the lake, I don’t want to be carrying any passengers.’

Whitlock nodded, then climbed out of the Quattro and got into the police car. Graham gave the policeman a thumbs-up sign. The police car pulled away in a screech of burning rubber. Graham glanced at the dashboard clock. Eight minutes. He put the Quattro into gear and sped after the police car. They joined the N6 and kept to the fast lane, forcing the traffic in front of them to give way. When the police car suddenly swung across into the middle lane Graham was quick to follow it, forcing a Seat Malaga to brake sharply behind him. The driver hooted angrily.

The police car then took a gap in the slow lane and indicated that it would be leaving the motorway at the next turn-off.

Thirty yards away. Graham cursed under his breath. He couldn’t get into the slow lane, there was a tailback of traffic behind the police car. He waited until he was only a few yards away from the turn-off then accelerated sharply and cut across the slow lane into the slip road. Brakes screeched behind him, followed by the sickening crunch of clashing metal. He didn’t look back. The cars hadn’t been travelling very fast. There shouldn’t be much damage. A crumpled fender. A shattered light. Nothing more. He braked at the end of the turn-off, changed down into second, and followed the police car on to the old Berne–Thun road.