Adam Hall - Quiller Solitaire

The stewardess got me a copy of this morning's Die Welt and I sat down with it in a seat across the aisle and towards the rear, so that I could watch people.

Klaus was using the telephone again: it was his third call since we'd taken off from Berlin. Maitland went into the forward toilet and came out again and spoke to the stewardess for a few minutes, then looked along the cabin and saw Helen sitting alone and came aft to join her, and I caught the leap of excitement in her eyes.

I'd got a better look at him this time as he'd walked along the aisle; he was a short man, as Helen had told me – lie hates being short' – but he was attractive in a chiselled, sharp-featured way, with high cheekbones and imaginative eyes and a strong mouth, and I suppose that for a woman he'd pack a good deal of libido, which might explain his Svengali-like power over his wife. The houndstooth-check suit was perfectly cut and he showed plenty of linen: he looked successful, experienced. One arm was round Helen's shoulders as he talked to her, his head close to hers, a sudden smile coming, a look of reassurance, this was my impression, Dieter's not really a bad type – perhaps – it's just that he's got a hell of a lot on his mind at the moment and it's fraying his patience, the same kind of thing he'd been saying to the stewardess, possibly, a few minutes ago.

Inge Stoph was sitting two rows behind Klaus, and after a while she got up and looked through a window on the other side, asking the stewardess something. Then she came along the cabin and talked to Dolores, three rows in front of me, then moved on towards the rear and stopped to lean over me, taut-bodied in a white sweater and slacks, her warm scent lacing the air, her ice-blue eyes reflecting the oval window and her brief smile brilliant.

'There's a bunk in the rear,' she said, 'if you want to rest a little. It has curtains. Would you like me to go with you?'

'At any other time,' I said.

'Of course. Whenever you feel in the mood. It's part of Dieter's hospitality.'

'He has great style,' I said. 'How long shall we be in Algiers?'

'At the palace?'

'Yes.'

Her eyes darkened. 'I don't know. Certainly overnight, because tomorrow we shall be celebrating. Has Dieter told you anything about it?'

'No. I wouldn't expect him to.'

'You'll know,' she said, tomorrow. Everyone will know.' She turned on her brilliant smile and went back along the cabin, stopping to talk to Khatami, the Iranian pilot, but not for very long: he seemed lost in his own world. I thought it should be telling me something, his trance-like preoccupation, perhaps something very important, but I couldn't get a fix on it.

We were over the Mediterranean when Marlene leaned over my seat, pitching her light voice against the sound of the jets. 'We'll be landing in less than an hour, sir. Can I get you anything from the galley or the bar?' She watched me with her nerves still in her eyes. As soon as she landed at her home base she'd give in her resignation and apply for a different charter.

I told her I didn't need anything, and she moved on down the aisle.'

'How was the champagne?'

Maitland this time.

'Excellent.' I hadn't tried it.

He stood watching me thoughtfully. 'How much do you know, Herr Mittag?'

'Very little.' We were talking in German; he was fluent. 'But I've great faith in Herr Klaus. I'm sure everything will go splendidly.'

His eyes were flickering to the slightest degree, but I didn't think it was nerves. I thought he was holding back a great deal of excitement, was only just managing to contain it. 'It will indeed,' he said, 'go splendidly. And your faith in Dieter Klaus is not misplaced. But the idea, you know, was mine.'

'Congratulations.'

I could smell the champagne on his breath but I didn't think he'd overdone it; I thought it would have had as much effect as Perrier: he was running on his own natural high.

'You'll understand what I'm talking about,' he said, 'tomorrow. We're going to make the headlines, you know. They'll be interrupting television programmes, all over the world.'

'I'm impressed.'

'And you've made quite a contribution yourself, Herr Mittag – the icing on the cake. We appreciate that.'

'Klaus did mention he was delighted – in fact I've got a question for you. Am I to be offered, shall we say, a grandstand seat when the balloon goes up?'

His mouth tightened. Well, no, actually. There's only one man here who's going to have a grandstand seat.' He straightened up. 'Just came to chat, that's all, make sure you're all right.'

'Civil of you. One more question – are we going straight to the palace from Dar-el-Beida?' The airport.

'All of us except for you and Geissler. You'll be stopping off at the Banque d'Algerie, where he'll make the necessary transfer of funds to Switzerland.' Touching my shoulder – 'All is arranged, have no fear.'

'I had none.'

'Very good. The price was fair, I rather think. You didn't ask too much, and we didn't try to bargain. The true value is in fact incalculable: this is to be a major show.'

'I very much hope nothing happens to stop your bringing it off.'

His eyes went cold, and he waited a moment before he said quietly, 'Nothing will happen, Herr Mittag, no. This operation has been planned with an attention to detail that will guarantee our complete success. Nothing will get in our way.'

A ruff of white surf below us now, a fringe of coastal palms and then white buildings as we turned for the approach, a spread of white buildings and domes and minarets and beyond them the desert, the sands of the Sahara.

The undercarriage' was down: I'd felt the slight vibration a minute ago. The noon sun flashed across the sea on the starboard side as we straightened, lining up with the runway, a degree or two of roll and then its correction as the flaps went down and we levelled off.

Mittenacht Ein, Mittenacht Zwei … Why two midnights, two deadlines – if they were deadlines.

Flareout, and the nose came up a little, the cabin tilting. The first of the runway markers began flashing past the windows.

There's only one man here who's going to have a grandstand seat.

Klaus? Why only Klaus? Or someone else here' on board this plane? Maitland himself? Khatami, the pilot? Why only one man?

We're going to make the headlines, you know…

Because they were going to use what they thought was a live nuclear warhead? No. And you've made quite a contribution yourself, Herr Mittag – the icing on the cake.

The Miniver thing would be a dummy but they'd still have the 'cake', and that alone was going to make the headlines for them.

Somehow I'd have to reach a telephone, signal London, stop them sending in a whole army to the delivery point, to the rendezvous, because they'd never take Dieter Klaus that way, he wouldn't be there, he was a former Stasi officer, KGB trained, and he knew that a rendezvous always carries a risk, any rendezvous, carries a risk of exposure, can be a trap, can turn out not to be a rendezvous after all but an ambush, he knew that, so he wouldn't be here tonight at Maintenance Hangar 5, he'd just send some people with me to make the exchange, some people he could afford to lose if I weren't just an arms dealer, if I were there to blow Nemesis. And if the SAS and GSG-9 and the Algerian counterterrorist units came out of the shadows and made the snatch then I'd be dead, because those would be his orders, the orders from Klaus: in the event of any surprise, shoot Mittag, get him out of the way – and the operation would proceed as planned, exactly as planned, and tomorrow there would be headlines, because I wouldn't be there to prevent it.