Colin Forbes - This United state

Marler came bounding down the steps like a rocket, Armalite in his right hand. He hadn't been able to shoot from the top for fear of hitting Paula. He saw the oil on the step which had brought down Paula, leapt over it.

'You ugly deformed little bastard!' he shouted.

The insult had the effect he had prayed for. Yorcke, about to jab the spike forward, turned round. Marler used the barrel of his Armalite like a club,, smashing it across Yorcke's forehead. Yorcke staggered back, still clutching the spike. He felt his legs press against the concrete platform. With incredible agility he jumped up on to the platform to give himself extra height. He was waving the spike when the Armalite hammered into him again, catching him across the hooked nose.

He lost his balance, fell backwards on to the moving machine. Sprawled on the paper, he was carried along to the rollers. They had a safety device, jumping up when something large hit them. The large object was Yorcke's head. The roller came crashing down and Marler turned Paula away so she couldn't see. Yorcke let out a ghastly scream, heard clearly above the noise of the machinery. His shoulders reached the roller which jumped up again, then down. There was no further scream and the rest of his body swept under as the immensely heavy roller crashed down again. The paper was stained with a spreading pool of blood. Marler spoke quickly.

'Don't look.'

He heard someone call down from the top of the steps. Newman stood there with Tweed. Newman, followed by Tweed, hobbled down the steps, stopped when Marler warned him about the oil. Marler, his arm round Paula, guided her to Newman.

'Take her to the car. Stay with her.'

'You've hurt your foot,' Paula observed. 'I'll tend to it in the car. I've got a first-aid kit. Let's go. Take your time.'

Tweed stared at the printed sheets still proceeding along the battery of machines. Then he looked at Marler.

'British twenty-pound notes, ten-pound notes and fivers. It was Lenin who said, "If you want to destroy a 'country debauch the currency." Something like that. It's quite fiendish. The Americans were going to flood Britain with forged banknotes. We'd lose all faith in the pound. Then the Americans would persuade the population to switch to dollars. Then they would have taken us over.'

He looked up. At the top of the staircase Kent, Butler and Nield were gazing down. He shouted up to them.

'The three of you move as a unit. Check every room in this house. Make sure no one else is here. If it's all clear come back and tell me. But be careful.'

'I imagine you'd like all this to be wiped out?' Marler suggested.

'As soon as possible. Trouble is, the ceiling's concrete.'

'I think not.'

Marler climbed a ladder perched against a wall. Reaching up, he tapped at the ceiling. Looking down he shook his head.

'Not concrete at all. Some kind of polystyrene – to match the concrete floor. Above it will be wood flooring. And wood burns. I need to go back to my car for extra supplies. Don't go round the end of this battery of machines. Something very unpleasant will be there.'

When Marler had gone Tweed started to walk to the end of the conveyor belt of machines. He had a Walther in his right hand. Seeing what the last machine had spewed out onto the floor he skirted the remains of Bernhard Yorcke. His stomach churned. He walked on, past large packed bales piled to the ceiling, reaching a very wide door which was open. Beyond the door steps led up to a lighted area. He found himself inside the huge garage with the automatic door at the front still open.

It was freezing cold. He saw a switch on the wall, pressed it. The automatic door lowered swiftly. More fluorescent tubes lit the interior of the garage and three more white Mercedes trucks stood parked, replicas of the truck he had seen driven away. He looked inside the open backs. Empty. He went back down the steps into the machine room.

Inside a drawer he found a collection of knives. Selecting one, he bent down to rip open one of several bales on the floor. He stared at its contents – stack after stack of British twenty-pound notes, each neatly held together with an elastic band. He heard footsteps running down the steps from the house. Kent was in the forefront with Nield and Butler behind him.

'Come and look at this,' Tweed called out. 'But when you reach the end look at the wall.'

'All's clear,' Nield reported. 'No one else in the house.'

'Oh, my God…' gasped Kent. 'What is it?'

He had overlooked Tweed's advice. Now he was staring at what had seeped out of the last machine onto the floor.

'Don't ask,' Tweed snapped. 'I told you not to look. Instead, come and look at this.'

Kent came round the corner, bent down. He extracted a stack of the banknotes, took off the elastic band. His expression was grim.

'More forgeries. I don't need to use my eyeglass. They are very good, but once you know what to look for you can see at once they're fakes.'

'So once the knowledge spread like wildfire every bank teller, every shopkeeper, every shopper in Britain would know they were holding useless money?'

'That's how it would work,' Kent agreed. 'Then panic.'

Picking up the knife Tweed had used, he ripped open another bale. This one was brimful of stacks of fivers. He opened a stack, glanced quickly at several banknotes, shook his head.

'Again, at first glance they're the real thing, but they're not.'

Kent ripped open several more bales. He found stacks of ten-pound notes, fifty-pound notes. Tweed then led him up the steps into the garage. He pointed at one of the trucks.

'How much of the faked currency do you reckon that could contain?'

'Millions and millions,' Kent replied. 'It's a big truck. It would contain enough – if distributed – to start a run on the pound.'

'Worse than I thought. Much worse. One loaded truck got away.'

They returned to the machine room as Marler appeared, lugging a very heavy holdall. He dumped it on the floor, well clear of the spreading reddish pool. He glanced round the huge basement.

'I imagine you'd like me to lose this lot?'

'Yes. And the whole house. Can it be done?'

'Without difficulty. I've got thermite bombs which will turn the place into an inferno. Plus high explosive – just to make a professional job of it. If you've finished here, I suggest you leave me to it. Everyone returns to the Audis, then drive down to the end of the gulley. I'd appreciate it if you'd wait for me to arrive.'

'How does it work?'

'With this.' Marler took a small black object smaller than a matchbox from his pocket. It had a shallow depression on one side.

'I press that,' he explained, 'and the world blows up. It works rather like the gizmo you press when you drive home, pause at the end of your drive, press your gizmo. Hey Presto! The garage door lifts automatically. Based on a radio signal with a code. Same thing here. I've laced the rooms in the house with thermite and high-explosive bombs. All have a signal receiver. The whole shooting match goes up when I press this gizmo '

'Put it away in your pocket,' Kent suggested. 'We don't want an accident.'

'Then clear off now and leave me to it,' Marler repeated.

With their two Audis parked beyond the bottom of the gulley, they waited. They had a clear view of the strange house perched on its bluff. Also they were close to the road running alongside the lake. They seemed to wait for ever but, by Tweed's watch, it was only five minutes later when they heard two dull explosions.

'It's started,' said Paula. 'Oh, Lord, where's Marler?' 'Hasn't started yet,' Tweed assured her. 'And here comes Marler like a rocket.'

When he reached the two cars Marler was out of breath. He stood still for a moment. Then he took the small black object he had shown them from his pocket. He looked at Tweed.