Colin Forbes - Year of the Golden Ape

^ 'I want this thing put on ice till I get a grip on it. So the ship stays where it is for the moment. I've told Peretti to signal those bastards that there's been a collision – that no ship can enter or leave Golden Gate till the channel is cleared. They may not believe it but they won't be sure. And it will throw them off balance -first they get permission, then a temporary refusal. I'm coming in now…'

^ It was typical of MacGowan to be in a fury but still to be thinking clearly – to freeze the situation and throw his opponent off balance at the same time. 'I've stuck my head in a political noose,' he told his wife during the drive into the city, 'but I don't care. I know I'm doing the right thing.'

^ 'Peretti will pull the skids from under you, give him half a chance,' she warned.

^ 'You've forgotten something – politically I'm finished anyway after the Grove Park business. Now I'm thinking of the hostages' problem.'

^ 'In the wrong way, in the Peretti way – let's all sit down over a cup of coffee and talk things out, I've got a hunch about this thing

…' They were passing through Brisbane and he saw her looking at him, 'I mean we may have to kill every terrorist aboard that tanker…'

^ Ten miles ahead of them a yellow cab was moving into San Francisco with four strangers sharing the vehicle. On the back seat was a passenger off the same flight as MacGowan, but ^

^ When he arrived in the lobby of the Hotel St Francis on Union Square, he reserved a room in the name of Seebohm and was taken up in the glass elevator which crawled up the outside of the building. The experience terrified Riad as he gazed down at the tiny rooftop of a car turning into the car park under the square. Riad had a pathological fear of heights. Still, he would only be in this place one night. In the morning he would inform the Englishman of the change of plan, telling him to catch the first plane back to Europe.

^ Aboard the ^ Challenger ^ LeCat had waited confidently for Mackay to receive permission to enter the Bay when the burnt embers of the Carley floats had been hauled up on the main deck. The signal granting permission had arrived later; the captain had prepared to sail into the channel; the next signal – refusing permission -had arrived just after midnight. It had been a thunderbolt for the Frenchman. His face working with fury, he waited on the bridge while Mackay absorbed the message.

^ 'You will take the ship into the Bay at once,' the terrorist ordered.

^ 'Impossible.' Mackay handed back the signal to LeCat. 'I cannot steam inside Golden Gate until they have cleared the channel. You've read it yourself – there's been a collision.'

^ 'I do not believe it! This is a trick the Americans are playing on me. First they say yes, then they say no. They cannot do this to LeCat…'

^ Mackay glanced at him, careful to conceal his growing anxiety. The Frenchman's personality seemed to be changing – these constant references to 'me', to 'LeCat', as though a power complex which had remained submerged was surfacing now Winter's restraining hand was gone. He tried quiet reason.

^ 'Listen to me. The moment they give permission I will take the ship in through Golden Gate. If I take it in now – without permission – we may well collide with those damaged ships somewhere in the channel…'

^ LeCat raised his Skorpion, aimed it point blank at Bennett. 'If you do not immediately sail this ship to San Francisco I will shoot three of your men…'

^ 'If I sail this ship in now and there is another collision – which there will be in this fog, for God's sake – ^ Challenger ^ may go down, taking you and all your men with you. We would go down as well. So, shoot every hostage on this ship if you like, but I will not sail my ship through fog under these conditions.'

^ Mackay turned his back on the terrorist and went to the bridge window. For the second time in only a few hours he felt his back muscles brace themselves for a bullet. Behind him LeCat's eyes flickered. If there was a collision the whole operation was finished. He left the bridge and went to his cabin. To soothe his fury he began drinking cognac.

^ LeCat stood in the open doorway of Betty Cordell's cabin. He had opened the door quietly and she was lying full length on her bunk, exhausted, half asleep. When she saw him she whipped her long legs over the edge quickly. 'Well, what is it?'

^ He closed the door, locked it, came swiftly over to the bunk and looked down at her. She tried to stand up but he placed a spread hand over her chest and pushed her hard. She fell back into the bunk, caught her head on the woodwork and was dazed. 'If Winter finds you here…' Then she remembered that Winter had gone, flown away. She tried to keep calm but the blow on the head had addled her, she was having trouble focusing on the heavily-built figure which loomed over her.

^ The knife point tickled her cheek and the full horror of what was coming hit her. The blurred figure came closer, lowered itself, then his hand ripped her blouse down the front. She clawed for his eyes but he moved his head and again the knife pressed against her cheek. 'Ruin your good looks for life,' he whispered. She sank back and he came on top of her.

^ She tried to think of something else – anything – to think that she was at home, that this was only a nightmare, to switch her ^ mind to anything except what was happening. It didn't work, she knew where she was, what was happening. The bloody gun… far too far away. 'Scream and I'll cut you…' One day she would forget it, pretend to herself it had never happened, that it had all been a nightmare.. . Oh, Daddy, you made it sound so easy -looking after yourself. It went on for eternity.

^ LeCat climbed off the bunk. She lay with her eyes shut, trying to control her breathing. She pulled a handful of sheet and blanket over herself, her eyes still tightly shut. He was moving about the cabin. She heard the clink of the water carafe, a loathsome swallow. She kept her eyes shut very tight indeed.

^ 'You tell Mackay…' LeCat paused, still whispering, somewhere close to her. 'You tell Mackay and I will kill little Foley. I will shoot him low down and he will die slowly – if you tell Mackay…'

^ The knife tip touched her cheek. 'Answer me, you cold bitch. You heard what I said?'

^ 'Go away.' She swallowed, her eyes still closed. Anything to be alone again. 'I heard you. Now go away…'

^ The cabin door closed. She had not even heard him unlock it. She opened her eyes only a fraction, frightened he was still there. The cabin was empty. Very faintly she heard the slap of the ocean against the hull, a strangely peaceful sound.

^ She lay in her bunk a long time before she got up and went under the cold shower. Then she peeled off her sodden clothes, screwed them into a tight bundle and dropped them out of the porthole. She went back again to the shower until the cold water made her tremble. Drying herself automatically, she carefully selected new clothes and put them on. Fresh underclothes, slacks, two sweaters.

^ She wouldn't tell Mackay, wouldn't tell anyone – she decided that while she was under the shower. And not entirely because of poor Foley. Going to the door, she tried the handle carefully and the door was locked. She pressed her ear to the door and listened. No sound of a guard stirring restlessly. She went to her suitcase, opened it, extracted the rifle under the spare clothes.

^ She stood with it in her hands for a long time, resisting the temptation to assemble it. In this suddenly confined world where the past no longer seemed to mean anything the weapon was her only friend. Life had closed in, had become only the ship – and the men on board. She had no feeling of panic or hysteria, only a dead sensation, and she had come to a decision.