'No, saving Blake Johnson's life. Speak to the quartermaster. Brownings, AK47s, parachutes for two. I'd say six hundred feet.'
'You're mad, Sean, but let me get on with it.'
Dillon put the phone down and Hannah Bernstein said, 'Gear for two parachutists. What the hell are you talking about?'
'Well, not the SAS. There isn't time. I've someone in mind, and I'll go and see him now. If you want to see me again, it will be at Farley Field.'
'You're just going to execute all those people, aren't you, Dillon?' she said angrily.
Dillon turned to Ferguson. 'She's a lovely woman, Brigadier, but I've had it up to here with her morality. I'm more interested in saving a good man's life,' and he turned and walked out.
Hannah turned and said, 'He's mad, sir.'
'No, Superintendent. He's Dillon.'
Harry Salter, Billy, Joe and Sam Hall were in the end booth at the Dark Man enjoying large Scotches when Dillon came in.
'Sean, my old son,' Harry Salter said. 'Did we do it or did we do it?'
'Fox has kidnapped Blake,' Dillon said. 'Flown off to this estate he has in Cornwall with four of his heavies.'
There was silence. Salter said, 'What are you going to do?'
'I can't leave it, they might chop him. I'm flying down in an hour from Farley Field. I'll drop over the estate by parachute. Try and catch them with their pants down. It's got to be a drop, the landing field there is too short for a Gulfstream. The nearest RAF base is twenty miles away.'
Billy said, 'Fox and four makes five, Dillon, and you're going in alone?'
'No, Billy, I'm going in with you.'
'You must be bleeding mad,' Harry Salter said.
Dillon ignored him. 'Billy, you've heard of Arnhem in the Second World War, all those paratroopers going in? There was one major, an army surgeon, who'd never done a jump in his life, but they needed a doctor. He survived just fine and so will you. Billy, trust me. You jump out, pull the cord at six hundred feet, you hit the ground in twenty-five seconds, and that's all there is to it.'
Salter said, 'You're crazy.'
But Billy was smiling all over his face. 'I've said it before, Dillon, you're just like me. You don't give a stuff. Just show me the way.'
'Well, if he goes, I'm bleeding going,' Salter said. 'Even if I'm only on the sidelines.'
'Right,' Dillon said. 'Then let's do it.'
15
HELLSMOUTH
When Dillon, Harry Salter and Billy arrived at Farley Field, Lacey and Parry were waiting.
'Let's go into the operations room and make sure I've got it right,' Lacey said.
The quartermaster stood ready with Dillon's Brownings, two AK47sparachutes and jumpsuits ready.
Dillon said, 'Have a word with Mr Salter, Sergeant Major, it's his first jump.'
'Is that so, Mr Dillon?' the Sergeant Major replied, face impassive. 'Then a word might be indicated.'
'Just show me,' Billy told him.
Dillon went to the chart table and started to check it out with Lacey and Parry. 'It's not as bad as it could be,' Lacey said.
'There's almost a half moon. One pass is all I'd recommend. There's no time for more, then we'll rush to St Just.' 'Sounds good to me.'
'The other chap,' Lacey said. 'He knows what he's doing?' Absolutely!
Ferguson and Hannah Bernstein came in. When the Brigadier saw the Salters, he was astonished. 'For God's sake, what is this? You said two parachutists, and he isn't a parachutist.'
'Well, I am now,' Billy said. 'I think I've got the hang of it, Dillon. I pull this ring and that's it. The guns are pretty obvious. I managed Kilbeg, I can manage this.'
'This is madness,' Hannah Bernstein said.
'No, it's trying to save Blake Johnson's life,' Dillon said. 'I'm ready when you are, Brigadier, unless you have other ideas.'
'No,' Ferguson said. 'It makes the usual wild sense where you are concerned, so let's get on with it.'
'Harry's coming along for the ride,' Dillon said. 'I suggest you lot board, and Billy and I will change and follow.' As you wish.'
Ten minutes later, Dillon and Billy, in jumpsuits, flak jackets, parachutes, shoulder holsters, AKs suspended across the chest, went up the steps and took their seats. Parry dosed the door.
Salter said, 'Christ, Billy, you look like you're in a Vietnam war movie or something. What are you playing at’
Billy actually smiled. 'I'm playing at being me, Harry, and it feels great.'
Blake sat down again on the stone seat in the tunnel, waist deep in water, hugging himself and trying to keep warm. Would Dillon come? Fox seemed to expect it, dangling him as bait. It was an impossible situation, but then, Dillon had always been master of the impossible. Somewhere high above, through the thick walls of the old house, he seemed to hear a noise, far off, something like an aircraft engine, but he couldn't be sure. The rat appeared and circled, swimming.
'I told you,' he said. 'Behave yourself.'
The noise of the aircraft faded quickly. Falcone said, 'What was that?'
'It could be normal air traffic at the RAF place at St Just,' Fox said. 'And then again, it could be Dillon. We'd better get ready.'
He was standing by the fire in the great hall with Falcone and Russo. 'Get me a brandy first.'
Russo went to the sideboard, filled a glass and brought it back. Rossi and Cameci came in, holding Uzis.
Falcone said, 'Excuse me, Signore, but do you really think Dillon will come?'
'I gave him enough clues. He's smart. He'll come.'
It was Russo who said, 'But what if they send the police?' 'Dillon? No, it's too personal for that. He's not going to
trust the police to do this for him.'
'But Ferguson is secret intelligence,' Falcone pointed out. 'What if he decided to use special forces, the SAS?'
'Same thing. He's operated this whole thing very close to his chest. Publicity is the last thing he wants, he won't change now. Low key, that's the way they'll do it. Like in the bullring, mano a mano, hand-to-hand, face-to- face.'
'As you say, Signore.'
Fox turned to Rossi and Cameci. 'Get out in the garden and keep watch. Check the doors.'
They went out and he drank some of the brandy. He was right in all respects except one. Dillon was already there.
As the Gulfstream throttled back to almost stalling speed, Parry ran back, opened the door, and dropped the steps. There was a rush of wind.
Salter said, 'Christ Almighty.'
