Colin Forbes - This United state

'You're talking to the right chap, Tweed. I'm in charge of monitoring it. It's still heading straight for us. We estimate it will be well inside the English Channel late tomorrow night. I can keep you informed of its progress, if that would help.'

'It would be a life-saver. A plan I'm working on depends on my knowing their timetable. If I'm not here could you give the latest news to Monica? You know how reliable she is.'

'Think I'd trust Monica before I trusted you,' Philip joked. 'I'll keep you in close touch with developments. Let's have a drink when this is all over.'

'Time you paid for your round. Bye…'

'There's something else,' Newman remarked.

'And I thought we'd got enough on our plate,' Paula chided him.

'We mustn't forget the Phantom is still on the loose,' Newman warned.

'Oh, he'll turn up again,' Tweed assured him. 'Maybe next time he will make a fatal mistake. I wonder who's paying him.'

'Sharon?' Paula suggested.

'Possibly.'

'So when is zero hour? I imagine you know, after talking to your old chum, Philip.'

'At a guess I'd say between 2200 hours and midnight, So it will be dark, which worries me.'

At that moment Marler returned. He gave Paula a little salute and took up his favourite position. Leaning against a wall he looked at Tweed.

'Alf is all clued up. He's gone off to meet his pals one by one. He'll brief them. He's going to photocopy that map in some small all-night shop he knows about. All knows where to get anything done.'

'I'm glad you came back so quickly, Marler. A friend of mine at the MoD has warned me that task force will arrive after dark tomorrow. That's when I think they will launch their attack on the Bunker. The dark will make it difficult to see them coming.'

'Problem solved. I'll go back to my office now to call down to the mansion in deep and darkest Surrey. They have a collection of mobile hand-operated searchlights. And a goodly number of star shells would come in handy. I'll talk to the one man who knows where the Bunker is, tell him to load up a van immediately, to drive it himself through the night to the Bunker.'

'You're a genius,' said Tweed.

'Oh, I know. But it's nice to have it confirmed. See you.'

'Why didn't I think of that?' Tweed asked when Marler had gone.

'Because you're not a genius,' said Paula. 'Incidentally, I'm not going to ask you what you discussed with the PM. Out of bounds. But what was your objective during our visit to those people at the American Embassy?'

'To destabilize them, the way they're trying to destabilize us. It worked better than I'd hoped. Morgenstern is the kingpin.' He looked at his watch. 'By now he should be airborne in his Gulfstream jet, heading for Washington.'

'You certainly destabilized Sharon.'

'A trifle dramatic, wasn't it? I'd wondered what lay under her deep calm at all times. Now we know. A volcano. And I managed to trigger it off. A real eruption.'

'What do you imagine she's doing now? Checking out the first flight back to the States in the morning?'

'Maybe. And maybe not.'

In her white office at the Embassy Sharon Mandeville was her normal cool self. Leaning back in her tall chair she was on the phone to Washington.

'Hi there, Senator, this is Sharon. How goes it?'

'Great. Just great, honey. You'll be needed back here soon to start your campaign. All the posters are printed for the billboards. You look a winner on them. You will be. I'm banking on it.'

'I'm very grateful to you, Grant. I hope you know that.'

'Hell with that. I'm looking forward to retiring, to putting you in my place. Don't forget this is a big state, a key state when it comes later to the nomination for a presidential candidate. A whole load of electoral college votes in your pocket.'

'I've got to get there first, Grant. To become a senator as a springboard for the big one.'

'You'll walk it. Both elections. For senator. For presidential candidate. Lord knows you've made enough speeches so far. And everywhere you spoke the crowds went wild. I know it hasn't hit the press or TV yet, but that's the way we want it. You come out as the big surprise. Is this phone OK?'

'Totally OK.'

'Got a bit of great news. Keep it quiet. Your nearest rival for senator is withdrawing from the race.'

'He is? How the hell did that happen?'

'Wise old me made it happen. Had him investigated. He's taken bribes from the Chinese. Needed a whole load of dough and Beijing coughed up. Needed that dough to try and keep his companies afloat. He's still bankrupt. Nobody knows, but I got hold of documents. Went to have a chat with my old enemy at that palatial house of his. Told him to announce his withdrawal – for reasons of health – or I'd send the documents to CNN and the New York Times. He's making his announcement tomorrow.'

'You're wicked. That's blackmail.'

'Aren't you glad I'm on your side? You know what?' 'Do tell, Grant.'

'I'm looking forward one day to telling my grandchildren how I propelled the first woman in history into the White House.'

'Thank you, Grant.'

'With your money and my know-how you're home and dry.'

'Thank you again, Grant.'

'When can I expect you to reach Washington?'

'Soon, very soon now. I'll let you know when I'm flying over, give you my ETA.'

'I'll be there to meet you. With flowers.'

'Anybody ever tell you that you're a great guy? I'm telling you now.' She paused. 'I've some unfinished business to attend to.'

'Goodnight, Madame President.'

Crag had sat immobile in his chair as the task force headed at speed for its objective. A few minutes later an aide appeared, crossed the deck, saluted, handed the Rear Admiral an envelope.

'New maps, sir. Just transmitted to us from Washington.'

'Thank you.'

The aide saluted again, left the deck. Crag opened the envelope, extracted several maps. An attached signal explained the aerial photos the aide had called maps had been taken by a helicopter flying over the vital section of the Kent coast. Crag reached for a powerful magnifying glass resting on his work table.

He grunted as he studied the photos carefully. Then he looked up. He handed the photos to his Operations Officer.

'Bill, I guess we ought to rush these over to the SEALs commander. Seems to me the operation will be a piece of cake. They land on a flat beach of pebbles just east of some place called New Romney. Then they strike inland over territory as flat as a pancake. Only a short distance to that communications HQ.'

'I'm worried, sir, that the Brits may know we're coming. That commercial airliner which flew above us just when there was the only break so far in the overcast.'

'I wouldn't worry.' Crag stretched his long arms, suppressed a yawn. 'Passengers on those flights soon get tired of looking out of the windows. They'd either be tired or drunk – or both. And it was at pretty high altitude. We estimated thirty-five thousand feet.'

'I'd better report to the Chairman that we've received the signal and the maps.'

'Aerial photos, Bill. Hold on sending a report. Let's first get the reaction of the SEALs' commander aboard the warship he's travelling on.'

Crag sat thinking. In his mind he was checking over the sections of the task force he'd contacted recently. Some admirals in his position, he knew, had a written list they ticked off. Crag carried the list in his head.

Fifteen minutes later – ten of which had been taken up lowering the fast boat over the side which had taken the data and its racing to the warship – his Operations Officer returned with a signal in his hand.

'May I read this to you, sir? I emphasize I'm using the words used by the SEALs' commander.'

'Let's hear it, Bill.'

"To hell and high water in fifteen minutes." That must mean the time he estimates to complete the whole operation.'