'You will be free to collect ?50,000 in bank notes of any currency of your choosing a week from today at my bank in Zurich. I assure you it is the most respectable bank in Europe. I shall arrange for you to call them from here tomorrow – on the public telephone system, of course. I have no private connection. I shall leave you alone to ascertain the number from the Swiss telephone directory and verify the arrangement personally. But I can allow you only one call to Switzerland.'
'Sounds fair enough,' Bond said, wildly thinking that here was a heaven-sent opportunity for getting word out to M. But he knew full well the call would be monitored and intercepted the moment he tried any sort of bluff. It was on Bond's lips to ask what would happen should he fail and Franco escape, but he remained silent.
Murik stood up and began to walk calmly down the long room. 'I think we should get ready for dinner now, Mr Bond. Then I would suggest a good rest. It is likely to be an active and taxing week.' There was no suggestion that Bond might like to consider the proposal, no polite enquiry even as to whether he would accept. Murik had already assumed the terms were agreed and the contract sealed.
Bond started to follow Murik towards the door and as he did so, caught sight of one of the weapons on display in the Laird's collection. On a small shelf among grenades and other devices stood a cutaway German S-Mine, from the Second World War -a metal cylinder with its long protruding rod housing the trigger. Bond knew the type well and the display version showed clearly how deadly the mine could be. You buried the thing until only the tip of the slender trigger showed above the ground. An unlucky foot touching the trigger activated the mine, which then leaped about seven feet into the air before exploding to scatter fragments of its steel casing, together with ball- bearings loaded into the sides of the device.
The cutaway S-Mine had been so arranged as to show the ball bearings in position, and also separately. A small pile of these steel balls, each about a centimetre in diameter, lay beside the weapon. They looked just the right size for Bond's purpose. Loudly he asked – 'You're tied up with this Franco fellow? In this scheme of yours?'
Before Murik had time to stop and reply, Bond had quietly reached out his hand and scooped three of the ball bearings from the display, slipping them into his pocket, out of sight, as Murik turned.
'I am not going into the finer points, Mr Bond.' Murik stood by the exit as Bond caught up with him. 'There are some things you should know, I suppose.' Murik's voice was low, with a rasp like the cutting edge of a buzz saw. 'Yes, friend Franco has contacts among all the major terrorist organisations in the world. He has provided me with six suicide squads to infiltrate half-a-dozen major nuclear power stations. They are fanatics: willing to die for their respective causes if need be. For them, if my plan works, it will mean vast sums of money set at the disposal of their several societies and organisations. Terrorists always need money, Mr Bond, and if the plan does not work, it is of no consequence – to the suicide squads, at least.' He gave another of his unpleasant chuckles, before continuing.
'All these men are willing to sit in nuclear control rooms and if necessary, produce what you have called the China Syndrome. If they have to do that, a very large part of the world will be contaminated, and millions will die from radioactive fallout. I personally do not think it will happen -but that is up to me. I have provided Franco with the means to get these squads into the reactor control rooms. I have, through Franco, trained them so they can carry out destructive actions at my command. At the end of the day there will be a huge ransom. Franco is to get half of the final ransom money, which he will split with the groups according to his prior arrangements. It is up to Franco to come to me in order to collect his share. He has even tried to tell me that the terrorist groups are pressing for assurances that the money will reach them. Lies, of course. It is Franco himself who needs the assurances. He will get none.'
They were now back in the main flagged hall. Murik quietly closed the door to the armoury.
'You will understand, Mr Bond, that I do not intend Franco to collect anything. For one thing, he is the only living person who would be able to tie me into this operation-identify me-when the security forces of several countries begin to question the terrorist squads. For the other' – he shrugged lightly -'I need all the money myself in order to build my own reactor, to prove that I am right. It is all for the benefit of mankind, you understand.'
Bond fought down the desire to point out the terrible risk that Murik would be taking. The facts of Operation Melt down were like a kaleidoscope in his mind; but of one thing he was certain: hired and fanatical terrorists are unstable in conditions of stress. However strongly Anton Murik felt about the ultimate threat, the situation might well be out of his control once the terrorist squads were in place.
More than ever, Bond realised that he must make a bid for freedom. They made their way slowly, side by side, to the foot of the stone stairway.
'There is one thing,' Bond said calmly, hands clasped behind his back.
'Go on,' Murik encouraged him. The two men might have been discussing new staffing arrangements at a respectable City company.
'If you want Franco removed,' Bond continued politely, 'to – ah – protect your little secret and to save on expenses why should I suppose you'll not have Caber and his men similarly dispose of me as soon as I've done the job? And why not anyway simply put something in Franco's nightcap and get Caber to dump him in the loch?'
Murik stopped in mid-stride and turned to beam at Bond.
'Very good, Mr Bond. You show yourself to be the man of wits I'd hoped for. You are right to question my trustworthiness. It would be all too easy for me to arrange matters as you prognosticate. Except, of course, your last suggestion. I would not wish Franco's remains to be discovered on my doorstep.'
Murik said this in a tone of mild parental shock. They resumed strolling back to the stairs.
'As to your own wellbeing,' Murik continued, 'it is by no means assured by my proposal. One false move would certainly bring about Caber's longed-for revenge. He is a savage man, Mr Bond, but I can control him. All the same, I should point out that neither could you be sure, had you declined my offer, that I would not be able to make your future life -or death -very unpleasant. The choice remains yours. Even now you can walk out of here freely, without a penny, and spend every minute of the days to come wondering where and when I might catch up with you. No one would believe the cock-and-bull story you might think of imparting to the police, or anyone else. So you have only my word for good faith. But remember, much greater risks lie on my side of the contract.'
'You mean,' Bond interjected, 'that you are gambling on my not taking up with Franco at the last minute, instead of killing him, so as to aid him in collecting a much larger sum even than the generous fee you have suggested for me?'
'Precisely ' Murik flicked the switch and the vault was once again plunged in gloom. They mounted the stairs in silence.
13 NIGHTRIDE
THE NAMES of the six nuclear power stations were in the forefront of Bond's mind for the rest of the evening, running like a looped tape in his head. His knowledge of nuclear power, and the location of reactors throughout the world, was sketchy; though, like his colleagues, he had done a short course on the security of such power plants.
Indian Point Unit Three was somewhere near New York City – he knew that because of a remark made during a seminar. A serious accident at any of the three Indian Point plants could cause grave problems in New York itself. It was the same with San Onofre One, situated a hundred miles or so from Los Angeles. There had been criticism of the siting of that plant so near a possible off-shoot of the San Andreas fault, he recalled.
Heysham One was in Lancashire, near the coast, and only recently operational. Saint-Laurent-des-Eaux Two, in France, he knew was in the Orleans area. As for the East and West German reactors – Nord Two-Two, and Esenshamm – Bond had no clues.
At least he had the names, and the knowledge that they were subject to terrorist squad takeover on Thursday. Small squads in the control rooms, the Laird had said. Get out, Bond's experience told him. Get the information to M and leave the rest to the experts. Sir Richard Duggan's boys from M.I.5 almost certainly had Murik Castle under surveillance, and it would not take long for troops to move in. If they were on the ball, Franco would already be in the F.B.I.'s sights in the United States. It should not take much to pull him; and if part of Meltdown was already under way, strict security at the target points would mop up the suicide squads. Bond did not have time to start thinking of the delicate intricacies of Murik's plan. Already there was enough on his mind, and it was essential for
