Seawitch Part 3

"That's none of your business." Roomer's normally soft-spoken voice was unaccustomedly and deliberately harsh.

There was a silence from the back seat, both girls realizing that there was more to the men than they had thought, and the gap between their social and professional lives wider than they had thought.

Mitch.e.l.l sighed. "Let's cool it, John. An ungrateful child is sharper than a serpent's tooth."

"Jesus!" Roomer shook his head. "You can say that again." He hadn't the faintest idea what Mitch.e.l.l was talking about.

Mitch.e.l.l said: "Why don't you go to your father and ask him? I'm sure he'll tell you- along with the roughest chewing-out you've ever had for interfering in his private business." He got out, opened the rear door, waited until the sisters got out, closed the rear door, said 'Goodnight' and returned to his seat, leaving the girls standing uncertainly at the side of the road.

Roomer drove off. He said: "Very masterful, though I didn't like our doing it. G.o.d knows, they meant no harm. In any case, it may stand us in good stead in the future."

"It'll stand us in even better stead if we get 55.Alistaftr MacLean to the phone booth right around the corner as soon as we can."

They reached the booth in fifteen seconds, and one minute later Mitch.e.l.l emerged from it. As he took his seat Roomer said: "What was all that about?"

"Sorry, private matter." Mitch.e.l.l handed Roomer a piece of paper. Roomer switched on the overhead light. On the paper Mitch.e.l.l had scrawled: "This car bugged?"

Roomer said: "Okay by me." They drove home in sitence. Standing in his carport Roomer said: "What makes you think my car's bugged?"

"Nothing. How far do you trust Bentley?"

"You know how far. But he-or one of his men-wouldn't have had time."

"Five seconds isn't a long time. That's all the tune it takes to attach a magnetic clamp."

They searched the car, then MitchelTs. Both were clean. In Mitch.e.l.l's kitchen Roomer said: "Your phone call?"

'The old boy, of course. I got to him before the girls did. Told him what had happened and that he was to tell them he'd received threats against their lives, that he knew the source, that he didn't trust the local law and so had sent for us to deal with the matter. Caught on at once. Also to give them h.e.l.l for interfering."

Roomer said: "He'll convince them."

"More importantly, did he convince you?'*

"No. He thinks fast on his feet and lies even 5ft Seawtteh faster. He wanted to find out how seriously he would be taken in the case of a real emergency. He now has the preliminary evidence that he is being taken seriously. You have to hand it to him-as devious as they come. I suppose we tell Bentley exactly what he told us to tell him?"

"What else?"

"Do you believe what he told us?"

"That he has his own private intelligence corps? I wouldn't question it for a moment. That he's going out to the Seawitch? I believe that, too. I'm not so sure about his timing, though. We're to tell Bentley that he's leaving in the afternoon. He told us he's leaving about dawn. If he can lie to Bentley he can lie to us. I don't know why he should think it necessary to lie to us, probably just his second nature. I think he's going to leave much sooner than that."

Roomer said: "Me, too, I'm afraid. If I intended to be up at dawn's early light I'd be in bed by now or heading that way. He showed no sign of going to bed, so I conclude he has no intention of going to bed, because it wouldn't be worth his while." He paused. "So. A double stake-out?"

"I thought so. Up by Lord Worth's house and down by his heliport. You for the heliport, me for the tail job?"

"What else?" Mitch.e.l.l was possessed of phenomenal night-sight. Except on the very blackest of nights he could drive without any lights at all.

57.'Til hole up behind the west spinney. You know it?"

"I know it. How about you feeding the story to Bentley while I make a couple of thermoses of coffee and some sandwiches?"

"Fine." Roomer reached for the phone, then paused. "Listen, why are we doing all this? We don't owe the FBI anything. We have no authority from anyone to do anything. You said it yourself: we and organized law walk in different directions. I don't feel I'm under any obligation to save my country from a nonexistent threat. We've got no client, no commission, no prospect of fees. Why should we care if Lord Worth sticks his head into a noose?"

Mitch.e.l.l paused in slicing bread. "As far as your last question is concerned, why don't you call up Melinda and ask her?"

Roomer gave him a long, quizzical look, sighed and reached for the telephone.

ss

Chapter 3.

&COFFIELD had been wrong in his guess. Lord Worth was possessed of no private a.r.s.enal. But the United States armed services were, and in their dozens, at that.

The two break-ins were accomplished with the professional expertise born of a long and arduous practice that precluded any possibility of mistakes. The targets in both cases were government a.r.s.enals, one army and one naval. Both, naturally, were manned by round-the-clock guards, none of whom was killed or even injured if one were to disregard the cranial contusions-and those were few-caused by sandbagging and AHstair MacLean sapping: Lord Worth had been very explicit on the use of minimal violence.

Giuseppe Palermo, who looked and dressed like a successful Wall Street broker, had the more difficult task of the two, although, as a man who held the Mafia in tolerant contempt, he regarded the exercise as almost childishly easy. Accompanied by nine almost equally respectable men-sartorially respectable, that is-three of whom were dressed as army majors, he arrived at the Florida arms depot at fifteen minutes to midnight. The six young guards, none of whom had even seen or heard a shot fired in anger, were at their drowsiest and expecting nothing but their midnight reliefs. Only two were really fully awake-the other four had dozed away-and those two, responding to a heavy and peremptory hammering on the main entrance door, were disturbed, not to say highly alarmed, by the appearance of three army officers who announced that they were making a snap inspection to test security and alertness. Five minutes later all six were bound and gagged-two of them uncon-cious and due to wake up with very sore heads because of their misguided attempts to put up a show of resistance-and safely locked up in one of the many so-called secure rooms in the depot.

During this period and the next twenty minutes, one of Palermo's men, an electronics expert called Jamieson, made a thorough search for all the external alarm signals to both the police and BO.

nearest military HQ. He either bypa.s.sed or disconnected them all.

It was when he was engaged in this that the relief guards, almost as drowsy as those whom they had been expecting to find, made their appearance and were highly disconcerted to find themselves looking at the muzzles of three machine carbines. Within minutes, securely bound but not gagged, they had joined the previous guards, whose gags were now removed. They could now shout until doomsday, as the nearest habitation was more than a mile away: the temporary gagging of the first six guards had been merely for the purpose of preventing their warning off their reliefs.

Palermo now had almost eight hours before the break-in could be discovered.

He sent one of his men, Watkins, to bring round to the front the concealed minibus in which they had arrived. All of them, Watkins excepted, changed from their conservative clothing and military uniforms into rough workclothes, which resulted in rather remarkable changes in their appearance and character. While they were doing this, Watkins went to the depot garage, picked a surprisingly ineffectual lock, selected a two-ton truck, hot-wired the ignition-the keys were, understandably, missing-and drove out to the already open main loading doors of the depot.

Palermo had brought along with him one by 61.the name of Jacobson who, between sojourns in various penitentiaries, had developed to a remarkable degree the fine art of opening any type of lock, combination or otherwise. Fortunately his services were not needed, for n.o.body, curiously enough, had taken the trouble to conceal some score of keys hanging on the wall in the main office.

In less than half an hour Palermo and his men had loaded aboard the truck-chosen because it was a covered-van type-a staggering variety of weaponry, ranging from bazookas to machine pistols, together with sufficient ammunition for a battalion and a considerable amount of high explosives. Then they relocked the doors and took the keys with them-when the next relief arrived at eight in the morning it would take them that much longer to discover what had actually happened. After that, they locked the loading and main entrance doors.

Watkins drove the minibus, with its load of discarded clothes, back to its place of concealment, returned to the truck and drove off. The other nine sat or lay in varying degrees of discomfort among the weaponry in the back. It was as well for them that it was only twenty minutes' drive to Lord Worth's private, isolated and deserted heliport-deserted, that is, except for two helicopters, their pilots and copilots.

The truck, using only its sidelights, came through the gates of the heliport and drew up alongside one of the helicopters. Discreet portable loading lights were switched on, casting hardly more than a dull glow, but sufficient for a man only eighty yards away and equipped with a pair of night gla.s.ses to distinguish clearly what was going on. And Roomer, p.r.o.ne in the spinney with the binoculars to his eyes, was only eighty yards away. No attempt had been made to wrap or in any way to disguise the nature of the cargo. It took only twenty minutes to unload the truck and stow its contents away in the helicopter under the watchful eye of a pilot with a keen regard for weight distribution.

Palermo and his men, with the exception of Watkins, boarded the other helicopter and sat back to await promised reinforcements. The pilot of this helicopter had already, as was customary, radio-filed his flight plan to the nearest airport, accurately giving his destination as the Seawitch. To have done otherwise would have been foolish indeed. The radar tracking systems along the Gulf states are as efficient as any in the world, and any course deviation from a falsely declared destination would have meant that, in very short order, two highly suspicious pilots in supersonic jets would be flying alongside and asking some very unpleasant questions.

Watkins drove the truck back to the garage, 63.Jewired the ignition, locked the door, retrieved the minibus and left. Before dawn, all his friends* clothes would have been returned to their apartments, and the minibus, which had of course been stolen, to its parking lot.

Roomer was getting bored and his elbows were becoming sore. Since the minibus had driven away some half hour ago he had remained in the same p.r.o.ne position, his night gla.s.ses seldom far from his eyes. His sandwiches were gone, as was all his coffee, and he would have given much for a cigarette but decided it would be unwise. Clearly those aboard the helicopters were waiting for something, and that something could only be the arrival of Lord Worth.

He heard the sound of an approaching engine and saw another vehicle, with only sidelights on, turn through the gateway. It was another minibus. Whoever was inside was not the man he was waiting for, he knew: Lord Worth was not much given to traveling in minibuses. The vehicle drew up alongside the pa.s.senger helicopter and its pa.s.sengers disembarked and climbed aboard the helicooter. Roomer counted twelve in all.

The last was just disappearing inside the helicopter when another vehicle arrived. This one didn't pa.s.s through the gateway; it swept through it, with only parking lights on. A Rolls Royce. Lord Worth, for a certainty. As if to redouble his certainty, there caine to his ears the soft Seawftch swish of tires on the gra.s.s. He twisted round to see a car, both lights and engine off, coasting to a soundless stop beside his own.

"Over here," Roomer called softly. Mitch.e.l.l joined him, and together they watched the white-clad figure of Lord Worth leave the Rolls and mount the steps to the helicopter. "I guess that completes the payload for the night."

"The payload being?"

"There are twenty-one other pa.s.sengers aboard that machine. I can't swear to it, but instinct tells me they are not honest, upright citizens. They say that every multimillionaire has his own private army. I think I've just seen one of Lord Worth's platoons filing by."

"The second chopper's not involved?"

"It sure is. It's the star of the show-loaded to the gunwales with armament."

"That*s not a crime in itself. Could be part of Lord Worth's private collection. He's got one of the biggest in the country."

"Private citizens aren't allowed to have bazookas, machine guns and high explosives in their collections."

"He borrowed them, you think?"

"Yeah. Without payment or receipt."

"The nearest government a.r.s.enal?"

"I'd say so."

"They're still sitting there. Maybe they're waiting a preset time before takeoff. Might be some All stair MaeLean time. Let's go to one of the cars and radio the law."

"The nearest army command post is seven miles from here."

"Right."

The two men were on their feet and had taken only two steps toward the cars when, almost simultaneously, the engines of both helicopters started up with their usual clattering roar. Seconds later both machines lifted off.

Mitch.e.l.l said: "Well, it was a thought."

" 'Was' is right. Look at 'em go: honest G.o.dfearing citizens with all their navigational lights on."

"That's in case someone b.u.mps into them," Mitch.e.l.l said. "We could call up the nearest air force base and have them forced down."

"On what grounds?"

"Stolen government property."

"No evidence. Just our say-so. They'll find out Lord Worth is aboard. Who's going to take the word of a couple of busted cops against his?"

"No one. A sobering thought. Ever felt like a pariah?"

"Like now. I feel G.o.dd.a.m.ned helpless. Well, let's go and find some evidence. Where's the nearest a.r.s.enal from here?"

"About a mile from the command post. I know where."

"Why don't they keep their d.a.m.ned a.r.s.enals inside the command posts?"

"Because ammunition can and does blow up. How would you like to be sitting in a crowded barracks when an ammo dump blew up next door?"

Roomer straightened from the keyhole of the main door of the arms depot and reluctantly pocketed the very large set of keys which any ill-disposed law officer could have jailed him for carrying.

"I thought I could open any door with this bunch. But not this one. Give you one guess where the keys are now."

"Probably sailing down from a chopper into the Gulf."

"Right. Those loading doors have the same lock. Besides that, nothing but barred windows. You don't have a hacksaw on you, do you, Mike?"

"I will next time." He shone his flashlight through one of the barred windows. All he could see was his own reflection. He took out his pistol and, holding it by the barrel, struck the heavy b.u.t.t several times against the gla.s.s, without any noticeable effect-hardly surprising, considering that the window lay several inches beyond the bars and the force of the blows was minimal.

Roomer said: "What are you trying to do?"

Mitch.e.l.l was patient. "Break the gla.s.s."

"Breaking the gla.s.s won't help you get inside."

67.Alistuir MacLean "It'll help me see and maybe hear. I wonder if that's just plate gla.s.s or armored stuff.** "How should I know?"

"Well, we'll find out. If it's armored, the bullet will ricochet. Get down." Both men crouched and Mitch.e.l.l fired one shot at an upward angle. The bullet did not ricochet. It pa.s.sed through, leaving a jagged hole with radiating cracks. Mitch.e.l.l began chipping away round the hole but desisted when Roomer appeared with a heavy car j ack-handle: a few powerful blows and Roomer had a hole almost a foot in diameter. Mitch.e.l.l shone his flash through this: an office lined with filing cabinets and an open door beyond. He put his ear as close to the hole as possible and he heard it at once, the faint but unmistakable sound of metal clanging against metal and the shouting of unmistakably hoa.r.s.e voices. Mitch.e.l.l withdrew his head and nodded to Roomer, who leaned forward and listened in turn.

Roomer straightened and said: "There are a lot of frustrated people in there."

About a mile beyond the entrance to the army command post they stopped by a roadside telephone booth. Mitch.e.l.l telephoned the army post, told them the state of defenses at their a.r.s.enal building would bear investigation and that it would be advisable for them to bring along a duplicate set of keys for the main door. When asked who was speaking he hung up and returned to Roomer's car.

68.'Too late to call in the Air Force now, I suppose?"

"Too late. They'll be well out over extraterritorial waters by now. There's no state of war. Not yet." He sighed. "Why, oh why, didn't I have an infrared movie camera tonight?"

Over in Mississippi Conde's task of breaking into the naval depot there turned out to be ridiculously easy. He had with him only six men, although he had sixteen more waiting in reserve aboard the 120-foot vessel Roomer, which was tied up dockside less than thirty feet from the a.r.s.enal. Those men had already effectively neutralized the three armed guards who patrolled the dock area at night.

The a.r.s.enal was guarded by only two retired naval petty officers, who regarded their job not only as a sinecure but downright nonsense, for who in his right mind would want to steal depth charges and naval guns? It was their invariable custom to prepare themselves for sleep immediately upon arrival, and asleep they soundly were when Conde and his men entered through the door they hadn't even bothered to lock.

They used two forklift trucks to trundle depth charges, light, dual-purpose antiaircraft guns, and a sufficiency of sh.e.l.ls down to the dockside, then used one of the scores of cranes that lined the dockside to lower the stolen equipment into the hold of the Roamer, which was then battened down. Clearing customs was the merest formal- 69.ity. The customs official had seen the Roamer come and go so many times that they had long ago lost count. Besides, no one was going to have the temerity to inspect the oceangoing property of one of the very richest men in the world: the Roamer was Lord Worth's seismo-logical survey vessel.

At its base not far from Havana, a small, conventionally powered and Russian-built submarine slipped its moorings and quietly put out to sea. The hastily a.s.sembled but nonetheless hand-picked crew was informed that they were on a training cruise designed to test the seagoing readiness of Castro's tiny fleet. Not a man aboard believed a word of this.

Meanwhile Cronkite had not been idle. Unlike the others, he had no need to break into any place to obtain explosives. He had merely to use his own key. As the world's top expert in capping blazing gushers he had access to an unlimited number and great variety of explosives. He made a selection of those and had them trucked down to Galveston from Houston, where he lived; apart from the fact that Houston was the oil-rig center of the South, the nature of Cronkite's business made it essential for him to live within easy reach of an airport with international connections.

As the truck was on its way, another seismo- 7O.

logical vessel, a converted coast guard cutter, was also closing in on Galveston. Without explaining his reasons for needing the vessel, Cronkite had obtained it through the good offices of Durant, who had represented the Galveston-area companies at the meeting of the ten at Lake Tahoe. The cutter, which went by the name of Tiburon, was normally based at Freeport, and Cronkite could quite easily have taken the shipment there, but this would not have suited his purpose. The tanker Crusader was unloading at Galveston, and the Crusader was one of the three tankers that plied regularly between the Seawitch and the Gulf ports.

The Tiburon and Cronkite arrived almost simultaneously sometime after midnight. Mul-hooney, the Tiburorfs skipper, eased his ship into a berth conveniently close to the Crusader. Mulhooney was not the regular captain of the Tiburon. That gentleman had been so overcome by the sight of two thousand dollars in cash that he had fallen ill, and would remain so for a few days. Cronkite had recommended his friend Mulhooney. Cronkite didn't immediately go aboard the Tiburon. Instead he chatted with a night-duty dock inspector, who watched with an idle eye as what were obviously explosives were transferred to the Tiburon. The two men had known each other for years. Apart from observing that someone out in the Gulf must have been careless with matches again, the port official had *91 MacLean no further pertinent comment to make. In response to idle questioning, Cronkite learned that the Crusader had finished off-loading its cargo and would be sailing in approximately one hour.

He boarded the Tiburon, greeted Mulhooney and went straight to the crew's mess. Seated among the others at this early hour were three divers already fully clad in wetsuits. He gave brief instructions and the three men went on deck. Under cover of the superstructure and on the side of the ship remote from the dock the three men donned scuba gear, went down a rope ladder and slid quietly into the water. Six objects - radio-detonated magnetic mines equipped with metallic clamps - were lowered to them. They were so constructed as to have a very slight negative buoyancy, which made them easy to tow under water.