Алистер Маклин - Seawitch

General Zweicker said. ‘We are aware of those movements. But as yet we see no justification for taking any kind of action. You have no proof that what you claim is true. Suspicions, no more. Do you seriously expect us to alert naval units and a squadron of fighter-bombers on the unproven and what may well be the unfounded suspicions of a private citizen?’

‘That’s it in a nutshell,’ Howell said. ‘And I would remind you, Lord Worth, that you’re not even an American citizen.’

Lord Worth, his voice gone very soft, pounced. ‘ “Not even an American citizen.” ’ He turned to the stenographer. ‘I trust you made a note of that.’ He lifted his hand as Howell made to speak. ‘Too late, Howell. Too late to retrieve your blunder, a blunder, I may say, of classical proportions. Not an American citizen? I would point out that I paid more taxes last year than all your precious oil companies in the States combined – this apart from supplying the cheapest oil to the United States. If the level of competence of the State Department is typical of the way this country is run, then I can only rejoice in the fact that I still retain a British passport. One law for Americans, another for the heathen beyond the pale. Even-handed justice. “Not an American citizen.” This should make a particularly juicy titbit for the news conference I intend to hold immediately after I leave.’

‘A news conference?’ Howell betrayed unmistakable signs of agitation.

‘Certainly.’ Lord Worth’s tone was as grim as his face. ‘If you people won’t protect me then, by God, I’ll protect myself.’

Howell looked at the General then back at Lord Worth. He strove to inject an official and intimidating note into his voice. ‘I would remind you that any discussions that take place here are strictly confidential.’

Lord Worth eyed him coldly. ‘It’s always sad to see a man who has missed his true vocation. You should have been a comedian, Howell, not a senior member of government. Confidential. That’s good. How can you remind me of something that you never even mentioned before? Confidential. If there wasn’t a lady present I’d tell you what I really think of your asinine remark. God, it’s rich, a statement like that coming from the number two in a Government department with so splendid a record of leaking State secrets to muckraking journalists, doubtless in return for a suitable quid pro quo. I cannot abide hypocrisy. And this makes another juicy titbit for the press conference – the State Department tried to gag me. Classical blunder number two, Howell.’

Howell said nothing. He looked as if he were considering the advisability of wringing his hands.

‘I shall inform the press conference of the indecision, reluctance, inaction, incompetence and plain running-scared vacillation of a State Department which will be responsible for the loss of a hundred million dollar oil rig, the stopping of cheap supplies of fuel to the American people, the biggest oil slick in history and the possible – no, I would say probable – beginnings of a third major war. In addition to holding this news conference, I shall buy TV and radio time, explain the whole situation and further explain that I am forced to go to those extraordinary lengths because of the refusal and inability of the State Department to protect me.’ He paused. ‘That was rather silly of me. I have my own TV and radio stations. It’s going to be such a burning hot topic that the big three companies will jump at it and it won’t cost me a cent. By tonight I’ll have the name of the State Department, particularly the names of you and your boss, if not exactly blackened at least tarnished across the country. I’m a desperate man, gentlemen, and I’m prepared to adopt desperate methods.’

He paused for their reactions. Facially they were all he could have wished. Howell, his assistant and the General all too clearly realized that Lord Worth meant every word he said. The implications were too horrendous to contemplate. But no one said anything, so Lord Worth took up the conversational burden again.

‘Finally, gentlemen, you base your pusillanimous refusal to act on the fact that I have no proof of evil intent. I do, in fact, possess such proof, and it’s cast-iron. I will not lay this proof before you because it is apparent that I will achieve nothing here. I require a decision-maker and the Secretary has the reputation for being just that. I suggest you get him here.’

‘Get the Secretary?’ Howell was clearly appalled by this suggested lese-majesty. ‘One doesn’t “get” the Secretary. People make appointments days, even weeks in advance. Besides, he is in a very important conference.’

Lord Worth remained unmoved. ‘Get him. This conference he’d better have with me will be the most important of his life. If he elects not to come then he’s probably holding the last conference of his political career. I know he’s not twenty yards from here. Get him.’

‘I – I don’t really think–’

Lord Worth rose. ‘I hope your immediate successors – and the operative word is “immediate” – will, for the country’s sake, display more common sense and intestinal fortitude than you have. Tell the man who, through your gross negligence and cowardly refusal to face facts, will be held primarily responsible for the outbreak of the next war, to watch TV tonight. You have had your chance – as your stenographer’s notebook will show – and you’ve thrown it away.’ Lord Worth shook his head, almost in sadness. ‘There are none so blind as those who will not see – especially a spluttering fuse leading to a keg of dynamite. I bid you good day, gentlemen.’

‘No! No!’ Howell was in a state of very considerable agitation. ‘Sit down! Sit down! I’ll see what I can do.’

He practically ran from the room.

During his rather protracted absence – he was gone for exactly thirteen minutes – conversation in the room was minimal.

Zweicker said: ‘You really mean what you say, don’t you?’

‘Do you doubt me, General?’

‘Not any more. You really intend to carry out those threats?’

‘I think the word you’re searching for is “promises”.’

After this effective conversation-stopper an uncomfortable silence fell on the room. Only Lord Worth appeared in no way discomforted. He was, or appeared to be, calm and relaxed, which was quite a feat, because he knew that the appearance or non-appearance of the Secretary meant whether he had won or lost.

He’d won, The Secretary, John Belton, when Howell nervously ushered him in, didn’t look at all like his reputation – which was that of a tough, shrewd-minded, hard-nosed negotiator, ruthless when the situation demanded and not much given to consulting his cabinet colleagues when it came to decision-making. He looked like a prosperous farmer, and exuded warmth and geniality – which deceived Lord Worth, a man who specialized in warmth and geniality, not a whit. Here, indeed, was a very different kettle of fish from Howell, a man worthy of Lord Worth’s mettle. Lord Worth rose.

Belton shook his hand warmly. ‘Lord Worth! This is a rare privilege – to have, if I may be forgiven the unoriginal turn of speech, to have America’s top oil tycoon calling on us.’

Lord Worth was courteous but not deferential. ‘I wish it were under happier circumstances. My pleasure, Mr Secretary. It’s most kind of you to spare a few moments. Well, five minutes, no more. My promise.’

‘Take as long as you like.’ Belton smiled. ‘You have the reputation for not bandying words. I happen to share that sentiment.’

‘Thank you.’ He looked at Howell. ‘Thirteen minutes to cover forty yards.’ He looked back at the Secretary. ‘Mr Howell will have – ah – apprised you of the situation?’