Exocet - Jack Higgins [42]
The men now stood in a line and Donner looked them over. Roux said, 'I've explained the situation. Every man here would like to take part.' He pointed to one who was standing apart from the others. 'This is the Signals expert. As for the rest, the choice is yours.'
Donner simply picked the eight worst-looking ones in his own estimation. As he reached the end of the line, tapping each man of his choice on the chest, a large man with a broken nose and close-cropped red hair, one of those left out, said, 'Merde!' and spat on Donner's left shoe.
Donner slapped him in the face. The man reeled in shock, then roared with rage and reached out to destroy. Stavrou was somehow in the way. He grabbed for the man's right wrist, twisted it up and around. The man screamed as muscle tore, and still keeping that terrible hold in position, Stavrou ran him headfirst into a stack of packing cases in one corner. The man fell on his knees, face covered in blood.
'Would anyone care to change his mind?' Donner enquired, and nodded at Stavrou. 'I should warn you, my friend here will be in charge.'
No one moved. In fact no one said a word, except Roux, who sighed heavily and offered Donner a cigarette. 'A terrible thing, the corrupting power of money, wouldn't you agree, Monsieur?'
* * *
Ferguson had retired to bed early, not to sleep, but to work on more papers in the comfort of his bed. He was just deciding to call it a day when the phone rang. It was Harry Fox.
'Just heard from George Corwin in Paris, sir. Raul Montera turned up on schedule. He was met by Garcia who took him to an apartment in a block on the Avenue de Neuilly close to the Bois de Boulogne. He's given Gabrielle the address.'
'Good,' Ferguson said.
'I'm still worried about her, sir. We're asking a hell of a lot.'
'I know. I happen to think she's up to it.'
'But dammit all, sir, what you're really requiring her to do is serve your purposes and destroy herself in the process.'
'Perhaps. On the other hand, how many men have died already down there in the South Atlantic, Harry, on both sides? Look at the death toll when the Belgrano went down. What we've got to do is stop the bloody carnage, or don't you buy that?'
'Of course I do, sir.' Fox sounded weary.
'When does Tony get in?'
'About five o'clock tomorrow evening, French time.'
'You can take the shuttle over there tomorrow afternoon Harry. You and Corwin meet him. I want you to fill him in on the whole scene in finest detail.'
'He won't like it, sir. Gabrielle's involvement.'
'Are you trying to tell me he still loves her?'
'It isn't as simple as that,' Fox said. 'They were married for five years. All right, a hell of a lot of bad in there, but you can't just toss the relationship out of the window. She's important to him. Let's put it in an old-fashioned way. He still cares for her.'
'Excellent. Then he'll make damn sure she doesn't come to any harm. I want you back here tomorrow night, Harry.'
'Very well, sir.'
'Anything else before I turn out the light?'
'What about the French connection, sir? Isn't it time we brought them in on this?'
'Not really. Certainly not at the moment. We still don't know what Donner is up to. If the French arrested him now, a good lawyer would have him on the street in an hour.'
'At least speak to Pierre Guyon, sir.'
'I'll think about it, Harry. Go to bed.'
Ferguson put down the phone and sat back against the pillows, doing exactly what he had told Fox he would do-thinking about it.
The French Security Service, the Service de Documentation Exterieure et de Contre-Espionage, the SDECE, is divided into five sections and many departments. The most interesting one is Section Five, more commonly known as the Action Service, the department which had been responsible for destroying the OAS. Colonel Pierre Guyon was in charge of that department, and he was not only Ferguson's opposite number but one of his oldest friends.
Ferguson reached for the phone and dialled the area code for Paris, hesitated, then replaced the receiver. He was taking a chance, he knew