Strange, it was Billy who said, 'He's entitled. Let him be.'
'Well, you've changed, you young sod.'
'Damn right, Harry,' Dillon said. 'He's killed two men, and on the side of right. No going back on that.'
Salter said, 'Okay, let's get going.'
He led the way down the steps and started along the shingle to the tunnel entrance. When they got there, he turned to Billy.
'You checked with Handy. How long have we got?' 'Thirty minutes, and don't forget, when that tide floods
in, it's what Handy means by St Richard's Force.' 'Right, let's get to it.'
As the Jagos and the others reached the entrance hall, they paused, observing the security guard sprawled across the desk, the security screens blank.
'There you go. Downstairs to the vault,' Connie Briggs said.
Manchester Charlie Ford laughed. 'I told you he was a genius,' and he led the way down a broad marble stairway to the vaults below.
The others, in the tunnel, had reached the grille door. Harry Salter said, 'Right, let's get on with it.'
Billy said, 'We could clobber them on the way out, Harry. I mean, twelve million.'
'Like I said, it's too much, Billy. They'd bring out the big battalions. Now, we go with my suggestion. I've never liked the Jagos, with their drugs, whores and pornography. Filth.'
He turned to Joe Baxter. 'So get your gear out and let's hope the British prison system taught you a trade.'
Joe Baxter took out an oxy-acetylene welding torch from his holdall. From the other bag, Sam Hall produced an oxygen cylinder.
Baxter flared the torch and started to work.
The great vault doors opened, and the Jagos and their friends were into an Aladdin's cave. They opened their canvas holdalls, pulled out bags and poured in a stream of diamonds.
'Jesus,' Harold said. 'I've never known the like.'
There was an atmosphere of hysteria, everyone laughing, and finally, they were finished.
'Okay, let's be on our way,' Harold ordered and led the way back upstairs.
They moved down to the basement to the exit hole they'd smashed, moved through one by one.
Tony said, 'Christ there's water in the tunnel.'
'Well, there would be,' Harold said. 'The tide's coming in. We've got time. Let's get moving.'
It was already a foot deep when they reached the gate, Manchester Charlie Ford in the lead. He tried to open it. 'What the hell is going on? It won't budge.'
Val French pushed him out of the way and checked it. 'Christ! Someone's welded it together.'
'That would be me and my friends.' Dillon sloshed forward in a foot of water, Blake at his side. 'Sean Dillon, and this is Blake Johnson. I'm sure you've got a mobile. Call Jack Fox and give him the bad news.'
The Jagos grabbed the bars of the grille and shook them. 'Fuck you!'
Dillon smiled. 'No, I'm afraid it's you who are fucked, gentlemen. Now, if you'll excuse me, the water's getting a bit high.'
Dillon and Blake turned and waded away, the water already two feet deep and rising. They exited on to the beach, which was already flooded. Harry Salter and the other were at the steps, waiting.
Dillon took out his Codex Four mobile phone and called Scotland Yard, using the Special Branch number.
The officer who replied said, 'Special Branch. How can I help you?'
'The Jago brothers and a hand-picked team are trapped in the White Diamond Company building at St Richard's Dock. They can't get out the way they got in underground, because the tide's rising. If you get to the front entrance fast, you'll catch them with twelve million in diamonds.'
'Who is this?'
'Don't be silly, get moving.'
In the tunnel, the Jagos and the others shook desperately at the grille together, but Joe Baxter had done too good a job, and then the water rose and started to bore in very fast.
'Christ,' Harold said. 'It's that St Richard's Force thing. Let's get out of here.'
They turned and scrambled along the tunnel, the water foaming around them, got through the hole, and scrambled upstairs to the foyer and the security office.
'Listen,' Harold said, 'if that Howler works, then the front door's open.'
'That's right,' Connie told him.
'Okay, let's get the hell out of here.'
He led the way to the door, and there was a squeal of brakes as half a dozen police cars arrived outside.
Harold stood there, bitter and angry, and said to Connie, 'Close the door with your sodding Howler,' which Connie did. 'Let them wait.'
The police bunched together outside the glass doors, and Tony Jago, gave them two fingers. Harold called through on the mobile to Fox at his suite at the Dorchester.
Fox said, 'Harold, how did it go?'
'Wonderful. I'm standing here at the White Diamond Company holding a bag worth twelve million and there must be at least twenty cops outside trying to get in at
US.
'What happened, for God's sake?'
Harold told him.
'Dillon?' Fox said. 'Are you sure?'
'And the American, Johnson. I think they've been on your case more than you know, Jack. The trouble is it's put them on my case.'
'I'll get you the best barrister in London.'
'Thanks very much. That's a great comfort, Fox. Sod you and your barrister!'
He switched off the mobile. Tony said, 'What the hell do we do, Harold?'
'Travel hopefully, Tony.' Harold turned to Connie Briggs. 'Go on, use that gadget and open the door.' Connie did, and the police rushed in and surged all over them.
Fox said, 'That bastard Dillon. He and Johnson, they've ruined the operation!'
'Signore?' Falcone said.
'God, I see it all now. It wasn't them just with the Colosseum, but Al Shariz and Kilbeg, too. And now this!' 'But how, Signore? How would they know?'
'The Johnson woman, everything flows from that. Somehow she found out and told them. God knows how.' 'So what do we do now, Signore?'
Fox turned to him with a hard light in his eyes. 'We exact revenge,' Fox said. 'That's what I want, revenge.' 'And how do we do that?'
'I'll tell you later. Right now, I want you and Russo to get down to the Colosseum and pick up Rossi and Cameci. Go on, do it now.' He was angry. 'And make it fast.'
'Signore.'
Falcone left, picked up Russo from his room, and filled him in as they went down in the elevator to get the car.
Russo said, 'He's too angry, and being too angry isn't good.'
'You don't have to tell me,' Falcone said.
In the car on the way to the Colosseum, he phoned Don Marco in New York and brought him up to date.
