War Game

you can't find the same treasure twice, can you? That's something neither of us can afford now—too much gold would be as bad as none at all.'

He turned away from Charlie, focusing the little telescope on the battle lines beneath them. With the help of the brushwood which had been trodden into the ooze earlier in the day the Royalist pioneers were making good progress with their causeway. Another five minutes, or ten at the outside, and the assault troops would be able to move.

'And that's where you come in, lad,' he continued, casually running his eye along the Roundhead line. There was Robert Donaldson, Bible in hand, praying on his knees to the Lord of Hosts just behind the Roundhead guns; and there was little Frances among the band of Angels in the shadow of the trees on his left, watching him; and there, staring at him through his binoculars from his post just inside the wood, was Superintendent Weston.

'You see, we've each got our gold, but if we don't do something about it we're each going to lose it, I suspect.'

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'Why?' Charlie Ratcliffe's voice was thicker than it had been.

'Why?' Audley's eye ran back along the battlefield. The man had to be there somewhere, but he could no longer afford to wait for him. 'See there—behind your cannon —like a black crow.'

'Why?'

'I'm trying to tell you. See that man in black down there?'

Charlie Ratcliffe glanced quickly towards the Roundhead guns, then back at Audley. 'Bob Davenport, you mean?'

'Right—and wrong.' Audley lowered the telescope, reaching under his buff-coat for his trouser pocket with his free hand.

'Name of Donaldson. Operates out of the CIA's station in the Hague normally, but working with our people at the moment.” He offered the telescope to Ratcliffe. 'He's been watching you for months.'

Charlie raised the telescope to his eye.

'And watching both of us today, but me particularly,'

continued Audley. 'Agent Donaldson is just beginning to have his doubts about me, I rather think. ... So please don't stare at him too hard.'

Charlie lowered the telescope.

'One American passport, in the name of Donaldson.' Audley passed the green book over for Charlie's inspection. 'Lifted by me out of his flat yesterday afternoon. Check the picture . . . and the dates of the Channel crossings.'

Charlie flipped the pages of the passport.

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'So what?' he said harshly.

'So Agent Donaldson knows too much about you. And he suspects too much about me.' Audley paused again. 'And what is even worse he's on the way to suspecting too much about our gold.'

'How d'you know?'

'Because I've been working with him. All he needs is one cosy talk with Professor Nayler and he'll have everything I've got . . . which talk is scheduled for this evening To be precise

—' Audley raised his lace cuff '—in exactly thirty-five minutes from now.'

He took the passport from Charlie's hand. 'So you see, Charlie, if our gold is to be preserved one of them has got to go. And for my money it's got to be Agent Donaldson. So you're going to kill him for me.'

Charlie's mouth opened, but Audley forestalled him. 'Oh, not you personally, lad. You must get one of those nursemaids of yours to do the dirty work for you— Oates or Bishop, I don't mind which. There's not the slightest risk involved, because I've pulled all our people off the three of you, as you may already have noticed. ... All they have to do is to follow my instructions and it won't take a second—I set it all up for them last night.'

The distinctive beat of the Royalist drums broke out again on the far hillside, but this time more fiercely—

Tum, tum, tum-tum-tum—

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'Set up what?'

'A shocking accident.' Audley nodded towards the red tent.

'The Double R Society is about to have another tragedy.'

'You're mad.'

'No.' Audley let the edge of desperation show. 'If I was mad I'd risk doing it myself. It's because I'm sane that I'm determined to be in the clear. It's got to be one of your men who does it—we'll never have another chance like this. So it's now or never.'

Tum, tum, tum-tum-tum—the columns of pikemen were beginning to assemble.

'Donaldson thinks he's meeting Nayler in the powder tent at half-past five exactly —when everyone's busy with the battle.'

Audley nodded. 'And that's exactly where I intend to be—

busy with the battle— when it happens.'

'When what happens?'

'There's a First Aid box in the tent, right next to the black powder charge for tomorrow's explosion. Last night I