Victor O'Reilly - Games of The Hangman

He paused and drank some mineral water. "And of course, the whereabouts of two of the hostages will not even be known. A little extra surprise for our friends. Their father is a key figure in the present Middle East peace talks. He is a friend of the U.S. President. There is no way the Irish will risk the consequences of their deaths. The Irish government will give in, and the parents will pay; the whole exercise will take place out of sight of the world media, so there will be no problem with loss of face for anyone. Our friends in Libya have agreed to act as intermediaries.

"There is a tendency in hostage situations for the authorities to drag out the negotiations in the belief that the kidnappers – us in this case – will not carry out their threats to kill their victims. As a matter of fact, hijackers have a track record of bluffing much and killing little, so the approach of the authorities would seem to be justified. In this case, it is essential that we convince the Irish government and the parents that we are deadly serious. To that end the faculty and ten students – those with less affluent parents and of no political significance, naturally – will be killed immediately. The executions will be photographed and videotaped. Arrangements have been made to radio photographs to our agents so that the parents of the surviving students will be in no doubt from the beginning as to our intent. The video will travel in the Islander, and copies of it will be issued subsequently, if necessary.

"You will note that we are contacting both the parents and the Irish authorities simultaneously. This is to prevent the authorities from endeavoring to resolve matters on their own and to exert the maximum pressure in the shortest possible time. Further, we have made sure that both parents in every case will be informed.

"The protocols regarding details of payments and so on have already been drawn up and are with our intermediaries in Libya. They will supervise our withdrawal from the island on a government-to-government basis. It won't be the first time they have performed such a role. They rather enjoy appearing as honest brokers in these situations.

"When the bridge has been replaced by the Irish authorities – a matter of hours using a military structure – the force will depart from the island in a bus convoy and will travel to ShannonAirport, where a Libyan jet will fly us to safety. The hostages will travel with us. They will fly with us to Libya and be released on arrival" – he paused and smiled enigmatically – "unless, of course, I come up with a more entertaining notion."

Kadar looked at the unit commanders. "Any questions?"

There was silence at first. The commanders were confident, forceful men, but Kadar awed them. He was brilliant, he was violent, and he was unpredictable – but he rewarded results. Experience had shown that blind obedience was the best policy most of the time. Questions were not normally expected, but Kadar seemed to want to talk. He was justifiably enthusiastic, almost euphoric; it was a thorough plan, and all three commanders were convinced it would work.

The Commander of Phantom Unit spoke first. "The next couple of hours will be critical. Is there any chance of interference from the Irish Navy or these people that I have heard so much about, the Rangers?"

Kadar was amused. He was conscious that he was showing off a little, but he was enjoying his minor moment of glory. It was no more than his due. It was unarguable: his plan had anticipated everything.

"The Irish have over three thousand kilometers of coastline to guard," he said, "and only four ships to do the entire job. The chance of a naval service ship turning up at the wrong moment is statistically most improbable. However" – he paused for effect – "arrangements have been made to divert the one ship on duty on the Atlantic coast. The primary task of the Irish Navy is fishery protection. An anonymous tip has decoyed the vessel Eimer to chase a fleet of Spanish fishing boats fishing illegally off the Kerry coast."

"And the Rangers?" said the Phantom Unit commander.

This time Kadar laughed outright. "They could have been a problem, but they have responded magnificently to a diversion we have prearranged in Dublin." He looked at his men. "They think we are mounting an operation against the American Embassy, and they are defending it in depth."

"So there is nothing to stop us," said the Icarus Unit commander.

"Nothing," said Kadar. He felt a sudden twinge in his hand. His missing finger throbbed. "Nothing."

Fitzduane's Castle – 1645 hours

Fitzduane disliked talking about the tunnel system; it was the hidden card in Fitzduane family history. In this case, however, he felt he had no choice but to reveal part of what lay underneath the castle; still, he confined his tour to the upper level. Access in this case was from the ground floor of the tower.

Fitzduane flicked a switch as they passed through the concealed door. A ramp sloped down to a passage with a vaulted roof. He motioned the others to follow him. The passage ran straight to the gatehouse across the bawn. A circular staircase wound its way to the second-floor level. They emerged in the windlass room, from where the portcullis was controlled. Murder holes and firing apertures allowed the guards to control both the entrance below and access to the gate.

He led the group back into the tunnel. "Now you know how to get from the keep to the gatehouse without having your ass shot off. That's the good news. The bad news would be the discovery of that tunnel by the other side. It can be blocked from the keep – a heavy iron door slides into place – but how long that would stand up to high explosives is another matter. Swords and lances were more the thing when this was built."

De Guevain was looking around curiously. "How was the tunnel constructed? From the outside the castle looks as if it were built on a solid block of granite, and the sea is so close. I'd guess we are near to being below sea level."

Fitzduane smiled. "We are below sea level when the tide is in, but there is nothing to worry about. It's the very geology of this location that made my ancestors settle here. What appears to be a solid block of granite is, in fact, more like a doughnut in shape. The possibilities of that were obvious. The family has been digging on and off ever since."

"You, too?" asked the Bear.

"I don't like tunnels." Fitzduane walked on toward a heavy metal-shod door. The key turned silently. "This is the armory." He beckoned the group to enter the room. He switched on the main lights when all were inside.

There were expressions of surprise. Swords, knives, battle-axes, maces, pikes, bows and arrows, armor, muskets – hand weapons of every type lined the room from floor to ceiling or stood in racks.

"Incredible!" exclaimed de Guevain. "This collection must be priceless."

"It used to be bigger," said Fitzduane, "but some of the finer pieces were sold by my grandfather to ease his later years."

"Where do they come from? And why so many?" asked Henssen.

"A castle is first and foremost a fighting machine," said Fitzduane, "and most of the weapons you see here belong to the castle's own armory. Over the centuries techniques and weapons changed, and the family modernized but without, as you can see, throwing much away. They were a thrifty lot."

"There's nothing more modern here than a Brown Bess musket," said Ambassador Noble. "And though they were fine for Waterloo, I don't see how they'd rate against the kind of firepower today's terrorists carry."

Fitzduane nodded. He crossed the room and worked a mechanism. A section of racking slid away to reveal a door. He opened it and led them through. This room was smaller, though still good-sized. It was painted white and was brightly lit. Tools, power equipment, and workbenches took up most of one wall. Wooden racks containing late nineteenth- and twentieth-century weapons took up most of another wall, and four long boxes lay open on the floor. There was a waist-high work surface in the center of the room with a series of firearms laid out on it.