Алистер Маклин - Red Alert

‘Now start writing.’

It took them five-and-a-half hours, including three fuel stops, to reach Corfu.

As Kolchinsky skimmed the helicopter low across the Khalikiopoulos Lagoon, Graham and Sabrina were smearing camouflage cream over their faces in the cabin behind him. They were both wearing black track suits which they had got from the Test Centre in Zürich, and Sabrina also wore a black cap to hide her blonde hair.

‘Are you ready?’ Kolchinsky called out over his shoulder.

‘Ready,’ Sabrina replied, and pushed her Beretta into her shoulder holster. Graham, too, loaded his Beretta and holstered it.

‘How long before we deplane?’

‘A couple of minutes,’ Kolchinsky answered.

‘And you’re sure there are no guards?’ Sabrina asked.

‘That’s what it says in the surveillance report,’ Kolchinsky replied. ‘Boudien’s the only person who’s been seen there in the last two days.’

Graham clipped the two-way radio on his belt.

‘I still say we’re on a wild-goose chase.’

‘But what would Calvieri gain by that?’ Sabrina asked.

‘I know it doesn’t make any sense but you’d understand my scepticism if you’d been there when Karos was shot. The guy was riddled with bullets even before he fell off the terrace. You don’t just get up and walk away from that.’

Kolchinsky banked the helicopter in a wide arc to avoid flying over the house and landed on the helipad. He gave them a thumbs-up sign, the signal to deplane.

‘If you haven’t heard from us in thirty minutes you’ll come in with guns blazing, right?’ Graham said, standing in front of the closed cabin door.

‘Just make sure I do hear from you,’ Kolchinsky replied.

Graham pulled open the door and jumped out on to the helipad. Sabrina leapt out after him and closed the door behind her. The helicopter immediately rose into the sky and wheeled away towards a clearing on the edge of the lagoon where Kolchinsky would await their instructions.

They ignored the road leading up to the house. Instead they used the cover of the adjacent olive grove, dense trees with thick corded trunks.

It would be impossible to see them from the house. The perfect approach. Graham put a hand lightly on Sabrina’s arm when they reached the edge of the grove. The nearest of the four concrete pillars stood thirty yards away. Thirty yards of lawn. According to the surveillance report, the only way into the house was via the glass lift. Although the glass was bulletproof, it still made them feel uneasy. They would be trapped together in a confined space. And not only that, their progress could be monitored from inside the house. Graham had suggested climbing the pylons, using suction pads, but his idea was quickly scuppered when it turned out that the pylons were protected with razor-sharp pieces of glass embedded into the concrete. Sabrina had suggested using a length of rope to climb up to the terrace. The railing had an alarm built into it which would be activated the moment the grappling hook touched it. If the alarm was on. But they couldn’t take that chance. Another idea discarded. There was no alternative; they would have to use the lift.

Graham broke cover and sprinted to the lift. Sabrina followed and took up a position on the other side. He pressed the call button and the lift arrived seconds later. He pivoted round, Beretta extended, when the doors opened. It was empty. They stepped inside and he pushed the button for the first floor. They had agreed to cover the house, floor by floor, rather than risk any more time in the lift than was absolutely necessary. The doors closed and the lift rose slowly up the side of the house. They braced themselves to dive low out of the lift when it stopped on the first floor. It didn’t stop. He hit the button for the second floor. It didn’t stop there either. It slowed on nearing the third, the top, floor. Each was aware of the other’s tension, and the sweat shone on both their faces.

The lift stopped and the doors opened. They dived low through the doorway, fanning the corridor with their Berettas. It was deserted. A closed-circuit television camera, mounted above the metal door at the end of the corridor, was monitoring their every move. The lift doors closed behind them. Graham got to his feet cautiously and was about to shoot out the camera lens when the metal doors suddenly slid open. They both trained their Berettas on the doorway. The room looked deserted.

It had to be a trap. Sabrina stood up and covered Graham’s back as he moved towards the open door.

They were both knocked off their feet as if hit by an invisible punch.

Sabrina landed by the lift. Graham was slammed against the wall, winded. He fell, face forward, on to the carpet. The towering figure of Boudien appeared in the doorway, holding a CZ75 pistol in his hand.

He disarmed them, then returned to the doorway and waited for them to recover.

Graham was the first to move. He rubbed his eyes, then pulled himself up on to one knee. He felt groggy. His whole body was tingling. He looked across at Sabrina. She lay motionless in front of the lift. For a horrifying moment he thought she was dead. Then she groaned and slowly eased herself up into a sitting position. She let Graham help her to her feet. Boudien gestured for them to enter the room.

It was a lounge. And Karos’s obsession with snakes was evident everywhere. Prints and wood engravings lined the walls, bronze sculptures littered the sideboards, and even the carpet had snakes incorporated into its design.

Karos sat in one of the armchairs.

‘Please, come in. Sit down,’ he said, indicating the sofa opposite him.

Boudien waited until they were seated, then handed one of the Berettas to Karos and tucked the other into the back of his belt. He took up a position behind the sofa, his arms folded across his chest.

Karos placed the Beretta in his lap.

‘I’m relieved that you both survived the shock. Gadgets have never been my strong point, I’m afraid. I was worried that I might have overdone it. My plans would have been thrown into complete disarray if the shock had proved fatal.’

‘An electric shock? I thought as much,’ Graham said, eyeing Karos contemptuously. ‘What is it, some sort of metallic sensor?’

Karos picked up a remote control device from the coffee table next to the armchair.

‘I find metallic sensors very unreliable. It’s so difficult to set a level for it. It’s either too high or too low. There really isn’t a happy medium. This one works off a heat-seeking sensor built into the ceiling in the corridor. The sensor picks up the heat from a body and counters it with a charge of static electricity. It’s part of my security system. Not that I’ve had to use it before. That’s why I was worried about the strength of the charge.’

‘I presume the remote also controls the lift and the door?’ Sabrina said.

‘And the closed-circuit television cameras,’ Karos replied. ‘That’s how I was able to track you both from the moment you left the helicopter. My whole security system on one remote control. The wonders of science.’

‘You knew we were coming?’ Sabrina said.

‘I realized something had gone wrong when Bellini didn’t resign at five o’clock. I knew that if Calvieri had been taken alive he’d be sure to finger me. He wouldn’t take the rap by himself. So I expected some sort of deputation, Miss Carver, either from your organization or from the NOCS.’ Karos got to his feet and secured the Beretta under his belt. He gestured towards the drinks cabinet.

‘Can I get you something? Brandy? Whisky? A bourbon, perhaps?’

‘How did you manage to pull off your own death like that?’ Graham asked, staring coldly at Karos.