– would be ideal.'
'I can't do that. Reluctantly.' Newman replied firmly. 'We will be heavily outnumbered when we attack. Every man – and woman – will be needed. Sorry, but that's the way it is. The top priority is the destruction of that ground station.'
'I'm nervous about their safety.' Philip persisted.
'And I agree with him.' Paula chimed in.
'Then you'll both have to control your nerves.' Newman told them grimly. This is a time when hard decisions have to be taken. I've just taken one.'
He stopped, jumped up at the sound of a peculiar tattoo on the door. Even though he recognized it he had his Smith amp; Wesson in his hand as he unlocked the door, opened it a crack, then wide. Butler and Nield walked in, holding motorcycle helmets, clad from head to foot in black leather. Paula noticed the red crosses painted on their helmets.
'Coffee?' Newman offered as he locked the door. 'It's fresh, delivered for Paula and Philip not ten minutes ago.'
'Black and strong as sin for me.' said Butler. 'And we didn't locate any sin on the streets. No Leather Bombers.'
'And no ladies of the night, unfortunately.' said Nield humorously.
'Shame.' Paula chaffed him.
Newman, still looking serious, waited until Butler and Nield had drunk their coffee and Paula had refilled their cups. Both men were beginning to look fresher after a few minutes in the warmly heated room.
'When you've drunk your coffee – and don't hurry -do you think you could face another patrol of Sion? This time on your feet, checking all the bars and drinking places, including hotels.'
'Just what I was hoping for.' Nield joked, 'a walk out there in a temperature way below zero. And the exercise will be so welcome.'
'What are we looking for?' asked the terser Butler.
'Bill Franklin and Keith Kent. They're somewhere here in Sion. I'd like to pinpoint where they are. Don't approach either of them, just give their locations back to me over a phone. One name, one place, then get off the line.'
'We'd better get going,' said the sturdy Butler.
'What I've always found so endearing.' Nield remarked drily, 'is Harry's enthusiasm. Oh, well. If we have to freeze, then freeze we will.'
'Be back here in one hour.' Newman ordered as they went to the door and he followed them. 'You need sleep for tomorrow…'
'I don't understand what you hope to achieve by that.' Paula said after the two men had left the room.
'If they get lucky and locate one man, or very lucky and locate both, I'll call Beck in Zurich. I can ask him if he would contact the local police chief and request surveillance by plain-clothes detectives on both men.' He looked at Paula. 'More than that I cannot do.'
'But how can you expect them to recognize either Franklin or Kent?' Paula demanded.
'You must be tired. They're pros – Butler and Nield. I gave them two names. Take a hotel. They'll go in with some story cooked up about looking for two friends with those names. If one of the targets is in the bar they'll ask to have him pointed out, then say they have to go to the loo, sneak out, and call me. That's just one angle I thought up on the spur I'd use if I was searching for them.'
'I must be tired.' Paula agreed.
Newman put on the radio, ordered more coffee, and some sandwiches from room service. He sat listening to the flood of reports while he drank and ate, all reports about a breakdown in communications in some other part of the world.
Philip and Paula, seated on a couch, chatted quietly with each other. Precisely one hour later Butler and Nield returned.
'How did it go?' Newman asked.
'It didn't.' said Nield. 'I don't think there's a bar in Sion we haven't visited, plus a number of hotels. No sign of Franklin, no sign of Kent.'
'You did your best.' said Newman. 'Take off that gear, make yourselves comfortable when you come back. I'll order some food and more coffee for you.'
'I think I'm going to bed.' said Paula, standing up as the two men left. 'I'm dog-tired. See you in the morning.'
She went back to her room, forced herself to have a shower, flopped into bed, switched off the light, and turned over. She was depressed by the fact Butler and Nield had failed to track down either man. She was thinking about the Marchats and her anxiety grew. If only Tweed was here, was her last thought before she fell fast asleep.
41
Tweed checked his watch, allowed for Swiss time. The paramedics had gone, taking away their sad cargo. The chief of the team had come in to see Tweed briefly.
'Sorry, sir. No good news. All three men in the computer room are dead.'
'I thought they were.' Tweed said quietly.
'Can't understand what happened to them. The autopsy will tell us.'
'I can tell you. Shock. Brought on by unbearable pressure of sight and sound. Their systems couldn't take it. You haven't heard the news on the world bulletins?'
'Been too busy to listen to any news.'
'You'll hear about it. I won't delay you. Thank you for coming so quickly.'
He made his urgent request to Monica as soon as they were alone.
'Try and get Newman on the phone. Keep your fingers crossed that he's still at the Elite.'
'Bob's on the line,' Monica called out triumphantly a few minutes later.
'Tweed here. I'll phrase this carefully.' he said, knowing the call was passing through the hotel switchboard. 'You recall what you and Philip were practising with when you were last down at Send?'
'Yes.'
'When is zero hour for the party?'
'At dawn tomorrow morning. At least, that's when we move off.'
'I'm bringing one with me in the jet. With plenty of what you feed into it.'
'That present would be just perfect for the party.' Newman said regretfully. 'But you'll arrive too late.'
'No, I won't. Have a vehicle waiting at that airfield.'
'You'll be too late.' Newman insisted.
'Not if I fly there overnight.'
'You can't do that.' Newman protested. 'It's only a small airfield. Only daylight landings are safe.'
'So I'll inform Beck. He will make arrangements. He'll have to.'
'I have to advise you not to attempt this madness.' Newman said with great force.
'I have to remind you who is in charge. I am. So kindly have transport ready to pick up the present. You can do that, I presume?'
'I could…'
'So you will. Beck will inform you of my ETA. Get a good night's sleep.'
He went off the line before Newman could protest. Monica was clasping her hands in her lap as she spoke.
'He didn't like the idea of a night landing at Sion airfield, did he?'
'Newman is sometimes so cautious,' Tweed replied blandly.
'And rightly so.' she snapped. 'What is your idea of the ETA at Sion?'
'I'd like to take off from Heathrow in that jet waiting for me at about 3 a.m. That should get me to Sion about
