Colin Forbes - Deadlock

He walked out on to the platform past Marler and peered over the edge. From Legaud's control van a man was reeling out a cable. He had already reached the top step and as Klein watched he disappeared inside the building. Communications were almost established.

The cable would be plugged into the phone system at ground level. At the right moment Legaud would elevate the van's antennae. Klein would have local communication through the van's amplifiers, iong distance via radio. Faltz came out on to the platform.

'Those bodies – the two policemen – I leave them where they are?'

'No. Haul them out here. Dump them near the rail. Later we shove them over the edge – just to show them we mean business.'

Tweed sat beside Van Gorp who was driving with Paula and Newman in the rear seats. They were on their way to Euromast. Paula noticed Tweed kept smoothing his hair with his hand, a sure sign he was uneasy.

'Something wrong?' she asked.

'He'll have synchronized the whole operation. That's the way his mind works – and we're up against a brilliant mind – diabolical but brilliant.'

'Synchronized?' she queried.

That horrible massacre at the marines barracks. Something else will have happened. It's going to be an ordeal of pure terror.'

Van Gorp picked up the car phone as it began buzzing. Listening for a few moments, he said he understood, that he was on his way. His expression was grim in the mirror Paula saw. The Dutchman accelerated as he spoke.

'You were right all along, Tweed. He's seized control of the Euromast. Or someone has.'

'It will be Klein. How detailed was the report?'

'Garbled fragments – as so often happens warning a crisis is in the making. A large group of men – and one woman – invaded Euromast. Armed with machine-pistols, they think. Everyone in the restaurant was bundled outside…'

'You said you had two of your men in that restaurant,' Tweed recalled.

A bitter note entered Van Gorp's voice. They tried to repel the intruders. They were shot in the back…'

'Something odd there,' Newman interjected. 'Why didn't they hold the people dining as hostages – to guarantee their own safety? Normal procedure…'

'Klein isn't normal,' Tweed replied grimly. 'I suspect we'll find he already has hundreds of hostages – aboard those ships waiting offshore. We'll soon know, but I fear the worst.'

Van Gorp picked up the phone again, pressed a number and then spoke in Dutch. The conversation lasted several minutes and he reduced speed. Replacing the phone he glanced in the mirror and pulled in to the kerb alongside the Maas.

'We're close to Euromast. We walk the rest of the way. The area is cordoned off. Too dangerous to drive closer.'

The first thing Tweed noticed as they walked along the pavement by the river was the silence, the absence of any sound of traffic. They passed several couples hurrying in the opposite direction. None of them were speaking. They glanced at Tweed and his companions. One man with a woman stopped as though about to speak to Van Gorp who was on the outside. The woman tugged at his sleeve and he walked on without saying anything.

Out on the river three barges were turning in mid-stream very slowly. Tweed watched them as they headed for a large basin on the far shore. A police launch, blue light flashing, came up behind them, at speed, then cut its engine and began drifting with the current.

Soon they were quite alone as they approached the large park below Euromast. No traffic on the river, none on the road, no more pedestrians. An uncanny silence which had a sinister atmosphere descended on the area. In the distance a wide red and white tape was stretched across the road, extending over the sidewalk.

'What is happening?' Tweed asked.

Two cordons have been set up – one there in front of us and another half a mile further back. The whole area is being sealed off – including the river. Traffic helicopters have been forbidden to fly anywhere near the tower. We are moving into a zone of total isolation.'

'What is the position, Inspector?' Van Gorp asked a small wiry man who appeared to be in charge of the police gathered by the barricade.

'A large group of men have seized Euromast – armed men. You should not proceed beyond the tape, I suggest. A temporary HQ has been set up in a building on West Zeedijk at the end of Parkhaven.'

'What is Parkhaven?' Tweed asked.

The inspector glanced at Van Gorp. 'It's all right,' the Dutchman replied. This is Tweed, Commander of the Anti-Terrorist Squad in London. He probably knows more about those people inside Euromast than any of us.'

'Parkhaven is the docking basin Euromast overlooks.'

'And why should we not proceed beyond the tape?' Tweed pressed. 'Has there been trouble already?'

'Two of my men made their way towards the entrance steps. A man inside the entrance fired two bursts of machine-gun fire. Warning bursts, I believe. He could hardly have missed had he intended to hit them. Since then there has been an unnerving silence.'

'Klein tactics,' Tweed whispered to Van Gorp.

'So how do we reach this HQ? Quickly. Even at some risk,' Van Gorp said firmly.

'You could take that path across the park and past the church. But keep an eye on the tower. We don't know what maniacs we may be dealing with.'

'I was told all the diners and staff were herded out. Is that correct?'

'Yes, which is rather strange. Almost as though they cleared the decks for action, so to speak.'

'They did,' Tweed told him.

'I had two men inside the restaurant,' Van Gorp said stiffly to the Inspector. 'I know they were shot. Any further news?'

'None. We questioned a number of the diners – a police patrol car happened to be cruising close by and saw something was not right. The descriptions of the weapon used differ – but we believe it must have been a 9 mm Heckler and Koch or a Uzi…'

'I see.' Van Gorp's tone was clipped. He turned to Tweed. 'I am forgetting my manners. This is Inspector Jansen. Now, we'd better make our way across the park.'

'I will come with you,' Jansen said, 'then I can take you to the HQ. We shall not be very close to Euromast but we shall be exposed if there is a marksman up there on that platform.'

'There probably will be,' Tweed remarked. 'The best in Europe. So I suggest we don't talk, that we spread out.'

'Several rifles have arrived but none of our marksmen yet.'

'I can use a rifle,' Newman said.

'And,' Tweed added, 'he's had military training and was a crack shot at Bisley.'

'Give him a rifle,' Van Gorp ordered. 'I will take full responsibility. This situation is unprecedented…'

There was a very brief delay while Jansen fetched a rifle from a van, handed it to Newman, who examined it by the light of a street lamp. He checked the weapon to make sure it was unloaded, tested the mechanism, accepted a magazine from Jansen and nodded.

'I'm ready.'

The walk across the park along the winding footpath was an eerie experience. Jansen led the single file and Tweed had Paula in front of him so he could throw her to the ground if shooting started. Although a distance away the Euromast seemed to loom over them. The lights were on in the restaurant windows but there was no sign of life.

Newman walked on the grass a few yards away from the file and closer to the tower. He held the rifle across his chest, the muzzle slanted upwards. He glanced ahead frequently but most of the time he was watching the tower. He didn't expect to hit a target if an emergency arose but he knew he could fire with close enough accuracy to hit above the rail, to force any marksman to keep his head down.

The silence amid the grass and the trees became more oppressive. The path seemed to wind forever. Newman was relieved when his night vision became accustomed to the darkness. He thought he saw movement, stopped instantly, took the aiming position, his finger round the trigger. He resumed walking slowly when he decided it had been an illusion.