Алистер Маклин - Seawitch

‘And now?’

‘Durand.’

‘Why?’

‘Ninny.’

‘I’m getting tired of people calling me “ninny”. John just called me that. He also said I was mentally retarded and an artificial pearl.’

‘No shrewder judge of character than our John,’ Mitchell said approvingly. ‘If Aaron doesn’t return Durand will come looking for him. Then he’ll get on the radiophone and stop the helicopter flight.’

‘Well, that’s what you want, isn’t it?’

‘No.’

He switched off the light and walked away, Marina following. Mitchell stopped outside the entrance to Lord Worth’s sitting-room.

‘Get inside. You’re both an irritation and a liability. I can’t function properly with you around. Heroines I can do without.’

‘I promise you I won’t say a word. I promise–’

He caught her by the arm and thrust her forcibly inside. Lord Worth looked up in mild surprise. Mitchell said: ‘I will hold you personally responsible, Lord Worth, if you allow this pesky daughter of yours outside that door again. More, I’m dimming the deck lights. Any unauthorized person seen moving around the platform will be shot on sight. That is my promise, and you’d better believe it. This is no place for children who want to play games.’ The door closed behind him.

‘Well!’ Marina sat down and gripped her hands together. ‘What kind of husband do you think he would make?’

‘A perfectly splendid one, I should imagine. Look, my dear, one of Mitchell’s outstanding assets is a hair-trigger reaction. You blunt it. And you know damn well how he feels about you – your presence just constitutes an additional worry at a time when he can least afford either. A wife doesn’t accompany her husband down a coal mine or on a wartime bombing mission. And Mitchell is much more of a loner than such people are.’

She attempted something between a glower and a scowl, but her beautiful face really wasn’t made for it, so she settled for a rueful smile, rose and replenished his glass of malt whisky.

Mitchell removed the gun and two large keys from the pockets of an unconscious Durand, made his way to the main entrance to the Oriental quarters, opened the door and switched on the corridor lights.

‘Commander Larsen,’ he called out. ‘Palermo.’

Doors opened and the two men were with him in a few seconds. Larsen said: ‘Mitchell! What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Just a harmless seismologist taking his constitutional.’

‘But didn’t you hear the broadcast warning – anyone seen on the platform to be shot on sight?’

‘That’s past. One piece of bad news, two of good. Bad first. Roomer and Miss Melinda didn’t hear the warning – those quarters are sound-insulated. So they took a walk. Both were hurt quite badly. Melinda has a shattered left shoulder, Roomer was shot through the neck and chest. The doctor thinks the bullet is lodged against his spine. We must get them to hospital and quick. Who’s Lord Worth’s personal pilot?’

‘Chambers,’ Larsen said.

‘Get one of your men to have him refuel his machine. The good news: Durand is in the radio room, his number two, fellow called Aaron, is in the radar room. Both are unconscious.’ He looked at Palermo. ‘When they come to – it’ll be some time yet – could you have them looked after with loving care and attention?’

‘Our pleasure.’

Larsen said: ‘Durand had three other men.’

‘They’re dead.’

‘You?’

‘Yes.’

‘We didn’t hear any shooting.’

Mitchell gave them a brief sight of his silenced .38. Larsen looked thoughtful. ‘Lord Worth talked quite a bit about you. I used to think he was exaggerating.’

‘The other bit of good news. Cronkite is sending some reinforcements by helicopter – not many, I believe, eight or nine – and they should be taking off about now. A fifteen minutes’ flight, I gather, so I reckon that Cronkite’s boat is just somewhere below the horizon, below our radar sweep.’

Palermo brightened. ‘We blast this chopper out of the sky?’

‘My original thought, I must admit. But let’s try to play it clever and lull him into some sort of sense of false security. I suggest we let them land, then take them. We’ll have their leader report to Cronkite that all is well.’

‘What if he refuses? Or tries to shout a warning?’

‘We’ll write out his script. If he deviates one word I’ll shoot him. Silencer. Cronkite will hear nothing.’

‘He could hear the man scream.’

‘When a .38 enters the base of your skull and travels upwards at forty-five degrees you don’t tend to scream much.’

‘You mean you’d kill him?’ While not exactly incredulous, Larsen was obviously taken aback.

‘Yes. Then we’d line up number two. We shouldn’t have too much trouble with him.’

Larsen said with some feeling: ‘When Lord Worth talked of you he didn’t tell me the half of it.’

‘Another thing. I want that helicopter. We’ll fake up a tale that the engine failed above the helipad, crash-landed and will take some hours to repair. Always useful to have another helicopter around but, more importantly, I want to deprive Cronkite of the use of his.’ He looked at Palermo ‘I take it that the reception committee can be safely left in your hands.’

‘You sure can. Any suggestions?’

‘Well, I’m a bit diffident about lecturing an expert like yourself.’

‘You know me?’

‘I used to be a cop. The rig is loaded with portable search-lights. They’ll head for the administration buildings. I’d keep in hiding, switch off the deck lights and turn on the search-lights when they are, say, thirty yards away. ‘They’ll be blind and won’t be able to see you.’

‘You can’t cater for nutcases.’

‘I’ll bet you can.’ Mitchell smiled briefly at him, cop to crook. He said to Larsen: ‘I have a feeling that Lord Worth would like to confer with his rig boss.’

‘Yes.’ They walked away as Palermo was already giving rapid instructions to his men. ‘Lord Worth know what you’re up to?’

‘I haven’t had time. Anyway, I wouldn’t tell Lord Worth how to make a billion out of oil.’

‘A point.’ They stopped briefly by the radio room. Larsen gazed at the crumpled form of Durand, half in appreciation, half in regret. ‘What a beautiful sight. Wish it had been me, though.’

‘I’ll bet Durand – when he awakes – doesn’t. Plastic surgeons come high.’

They made their next brief stop at the sick-bay. He looked at a still comatose Melinda and a wide-awake Roomer, and his massive fists clenched. Roomer smiled. ‘I know. But you’re too late. How deep’s the water here?’

‘Nine hundred feet.’

‘Then you’d require a diving-bell to get your hands round the throats of those responsible. And how are things with you, Commander Larsen? You can see how things are with us.’

‘I’ve been resting. Mitchell here has been rather more active. Apart from the three men at the bottom of the Gulf, he’s also deprived me of the pleasure of beating the living daylights out of Durand. Aaron isn’t feeling too well either.’

Roomer said apologetically: ‘He doesn’t go in much for diplomacy. So the Seawitch is in our hands?’

‘For the moment.’

‘For the moment?’

‘Do you see a man like Cronkite giving up? So he’s lost five men and is probably about to lose another eight or nine. What’s that for a man with ten millions to play about with? And don’t forget his vicious personal vendetta with Lord Worth. If achieving his intent involves the crippling or even the destruction of the Seawitch , including all aboard it – well, Cronkite isn’t going to be conscience-ridden for all his days – or even for a minute if it comes to that.’ He turned to Dr Greenshaw. ‘I think it’s time you got busy with the stretchers. Could you spare four of your drilling crew, Commander, to help have them transferred to the stretchers and then carried across to the helicopter? I’m afraid, John, that you’re going to have some very unpleasant company on the trip. Durand and Aaron. Trussed like chickens, of course.’