Алистер Маклин - Seawitch

Larsen took care not to show his feelings. He looked as morose as ever. All he said was: ‘Boy, oh boy, oh boy.’

Lord Worth was on his feet now, supported by his daughter. Mitchell joined them. ‘How do you feel, sir?’

Lord Worth spoke or rather mouthed his words with understandable bitterness. ‘I’m in great shape.’

‘You’ll feel better soon.’ He lowered his voice and spoke to Marina. ‘When I give the word, say you want to go to the ladies’ room. But don’t go there. Go to the generator room. You’ll see a red lever there marked ‘Deck Light”. Pull it down. After you count twenty put it on again.’

Cronkite and Gregson appeared to have finished their discussion. From Cronkite’s smile it appeared that his view had prevailed. Lord Worth, Marina, Larsen, Greenshaw and Mitchell stood together, a forlorn and huddled group. Facing them were the serried ranks of Cronkite, Mulhooney, Easton, the bogus Colonel Farquharson, Lieutenant-Colonel Dewings, Major Breckley, Gregson and all his killers, a most formidable group and armed to the teeth.

Cronkite spoke to a man by his side. ‘Check.’

The man lifted a walkie-talkie, spoke into it and nodded. He said to Cronkite: ‘Charges secured in position.’

‘Excellent. Tell them to steam due north for twenty miles and remain there.’ This was done. Unfortunately for Cronkite, his view to the west was blocked by the shattered building behind him and he could not see that the Roamer was already steaming steadily to the south. Even had he had a clear view it would hardly have mattered: Conde had prudently extinguished every light aboard the Roamer.

Cronkite smiled. ‘Well, Lord Worth, it’s the end of the road for both you and the Seawitch. Even a billionaire can step out of his class. I have two nuclear devices attached to the western leg of the Seawitch.’ He dug into a pocket and produced a black pear-shaped metal container. ‘The radioactive detonating device. You will not fail to observe this small switch here. It’s supposed to be good for ninety minutes, but I have already run off forty minutes of it. Fifty more minutes and poof! the Seawitch , you, Lord Worth, and everyone aboard will be vaporized. Nobody will feel a thing, I assure you.’

‘You mean you intend to kill all my innocent employees aboard the rig? Your mind, Cronkite, has totally gone. You are stark raving mad.’

‘Never saner. Can’t have any witnesses left who can identify us. Then we destroy two of the helicopters, immobilize your derrick crane, smash your radio room and take off in the other two helicopters. You may, of course, contemplate jumping into the Gulf, but your chances of survival would be about the same as a suicide jumping off the Golden Gate bridge.’

Mitchell nudged Marina. She said in a faint voice: ‘May I go to the ladies’ room?’

Cronkite was joviality itself. ‘Certainly. But be quick about it.’

Fifteen seconds later the deck lights went out.

It was Mitchell, with his unique capacity to see in the dark, who ran round the corner of the battered building, retrieved the two Schmeissers – he didn’t bother about the grenades – returned and thrust one into Larsen’s hands. Twelve seconds had elapsed but in eight seconds two men with sub-machine-guns can achieve an extraordinary amount of carnage. Larsen was firing blind but Mitchell could see and pick out his targets They were helped, in a most haphazard fashion, by Dr Greenshaw who flung grenades at random inflicting even more damage on the already shattered building but not actually injuring anyone.

The lights came on again.

There were still seven people left alive – Cronkite. Mulhooney, Easton, Gregson and three of his men. To those seven Mitchell said: ‘Lay down your arms.’ Shattered and stunned though the survivors were, they still had enough of their wits to comply at once.

Marina arrived back and was promptly sick in a very unladylike fashion.

Mitchell put down his Schmeisser and advanced on Cronkite. ‘Give me that detonating device.’

Cronkite removed it slowly from his pocket, suddenly turned the switch and lifted his arm preparatory to throwing it over the side. Whatever else, it would have meant the destruction of the Seawitch. Cronkite screamed in agony as the bullet from the silenced .38 shattered his right elbow. Mitchell caught the detonating device even before it could reach the deck.

He said to Larsen: ‘Are there two absolutely secure places with no windows and iron doors which can be securely locked without any possibility of opening them from the inside?’

‘Just two. Safe as the Fort Knox vaults. Along here.’

‘Search them and search them thoroughly. Make sure they haven’t even a penknife.’

Larsen searched. ‘Not even a penknife.’ He led them to a steel-reinforced cell-like structure, and he and Mitchell ushered them inside.

In spite of his agony Cronkite said: ‘You’re not going to leave us in here, for God’s sake!’

‘Just as you were going to leave us.’ Mitchell paused then added soothingly: ‘As you said, you won’t feel a thing.’ He closed the door, double-locked it and put the key in his pocket. He said to Larsen: ‘The other cell?’

‘Along here.’

‘This is madness!’ Lord Worth’s voice was almost a shout. ‘The Seawitch is safe now. Why in God’s name destroy it?’

Mitchell ignored him. He glanced at the timing device on the detonator. ‘Twenty-nine minutes to go. We’d better move.’ He placed the device on the floor of the cell, locked the door and sent the key spinning far out over the Gulf. ‘Get the men out of the Oriental buildings, free the men in the sensory, radar, sonar and radio rooms and make sure that all the helicopter pilots are safe.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Twenty-five minutes.’

Everyone moved with astounding alacrity except for Lord Worth, who just stood around with a stunned look on his face. Larsen said: ‘Is there a need for all this mad rush?’

Mitchell said mildly: ‘How do we know that the settings on that detonator are accurate?’

The mad rush redoubled itself. Thirteen minutes before the deadline the last of the helicopters took off and headed south. The first to land on the Roamer ’s helipad held Mitchell, Larsen, Lord Worth and his daughter, in addition to the doctor and several rig men, while the other helicopter still hovered overhead. They were still only about fourteen miles south of the Seawitch , which was as far as the Roamer had succeeded in getting in that time, but Mitchell reckoned the margin of safety more than sufficient. He spoke to Conde who assured him that every vessel and aircraft had been warned to keep as far away as possible from the danger area.

When the Seawitch blew up, dead on schedule, it did so with a spectacular effect that would have satisfied even the most ghoulish. There was even a miniature mushroom cloud such as the public had become accustomed to in the photographs of detonating regular megaton atom bombs. Seventeen seconds later those in the Roamer heard the thunderclap of sound and shortly afterwards a series of miniature but harmless tidal waves rocked, but did not unduly disturb the Roamer. After Mitchell had told Conde to broadcast the news to all aircraft and shipping he turned to find a stony-faced Marina confronting him.

‘Well, you’ve lost Daddy his Seawitch. I do hope you’re satisfied with yourself.’

‘My, my, how bitter we are. Yes, quite a satisfactory job, even if I have to say it myself, for obviously no one else is going to.’

‘Why? Why? Why?’

‘Every man who died there was a murderer, some mass murderers. They might have escaped to countries with no extradition treaties with the States. Even if caught their cases might have dragged on for years. Proof would have been very difficult to obtain. And, of course, parole after a few years. This way, we know they’ll never kill again.’