plunging into the sea, which frothed gently against the island, she saw a long wide platform extending a long way to the east, a platform of concrete. At the end was a large private jet, a Gulfstream.
'That is how you will leave Berg Island,' Milo called out to her. 'If Tweed wishes to return direct to Hamburg the Gulfstream will take you all there. Blondel uses it a lot. You feel better now, Paula? You again have confidence in me?'
'Of course. It was just that…' She felt confused. '… As we came in the steamer…'
'I understand your surprise. I assume the tourists found it too hot down there and were happy to return early…'
Tweed was still looking back when Lisa gave a little dance of joy. She waved her arms, lifted them up towards the clear blue sky. Tweed continued staring at her and she stopped dancing and waving her arms. They walked a short distance further and entered a large grove surrounded by palm trees. A semi-circular banquette ran halfway round the grove. On a table were glasses covered with tissue paper, bottles, sandwiches in cartons. They sat down.
'Milo,' Tweed began, 'when you said the Internet will be destroyed by your highly advanced system surely it could be repaired – the Internet, I mean?'
'Not for years. The Internet is linked to the telephone system. The telephone system will also be wiped out – and that will take years to build again. You know that certain satellites orbiting the earth are also linked to the phone system. Those satellites also will be rendered useless. We will go back to how we were in the pre-1900 era. That will be a good thing.'
'Why?'
'You are so busy I doubt you've had the time to trawl – better word than 'surf' – the Internet. We know Thunder is using it – Thunder and his friends – to send coded orders to hundreds of brigands waiting to send our world up in flames. Soon it would be used by terrorists to plot their campaigns of murder and mayhem. Then, not to mention the explicit sexual programmes which appear on it, it has become the lifeline for paedophiles to communicate with each other. The Internet is evil – and is it a good thing that nations can communicate with each other other in seconds? I think not. It will lead to wars.'
'You make a powerful case against it.' Tweed looked at Lisa. 'Now what do you think, Mrs France?'
'I think
Lisa stopped speaking, looked embarrassed, at a loss for how to reply, flushed deeply. She sat staring at Tweed.
'He's found out our secret,' Milo said and chuckled. 'I should have guessed this would happen. Paula?'
'I'm all at sea, don't know what's happening.'
'Then I'll bring you ashore,' said Tweed. 'When we first met her at the mansion outside Hamburg she had disguised herself with clothes much too large for her, a huge straw hat under which she hid her glorious red hair. When she came to see us in my room at Tender she used a different disguise. I'm sure her flaming red mane was rolled up, tied back behind her head, hidden under a black wig. She wore glasses suitable for a headmistress. She had tinted contact lenses to change the colour of her eyes. Maybe she's had acting experience.'
'I have,' Lisa said quietly, 'at a drama school when I was living in London. Milo suggested the idea. I always pack flying kit in my case, hoping an opportunity to fly will crop up. When I left your room, Newman went back to his and I slipped in to mine, changed my clothes. How did you spot me, Tweed?'
'Your body language,' he said.
'Lisa,' said Milo, 'is my daughter. For years I was so busy building up the Zurcher Kredit I never thought of marriage. Then I met a brilliant German woman whose mind – as well as appearance – entranced me. We married quickly. Helga was born first, her intellect very limited.
439Lisa who came later is also the result of that marriage. My wife died suddenly a number of years ago.'
'Milo,' Lisa said quietly, 'thought I could assess you better if you did not know who I really was. Few people do.'
'When do you propose to operate your system?' Tweed asked after glancing at his watch.
'I understand from messages from Seattle we have decoded we have two or three days.'
'Then I have grim news for you. The latest messages one of my staff in London decoded warned that the timing for chaos was imminent. Two or three days? We may have only two or three hours left.'
Milo jumped up, startled, his expression full of anxiety. He suggested that they hurry back to his study.
'You know there is a meeting on Sylt taking place?' Milo asked as they walked rapidly back.
'I do know all about that. Thunder and three other powerful men.'
'I have made arrangements about Sylt.'
'What arrangements?' Tweed asked.
'We can discuss those later. Those four villains.'
'Didn't you know there is a fifth man, as yet unidentified?'
As they continued hurrying along the path back to the castle, Tweed explained tersely the scene he had witnessed while hiding inside the windmill.
'So there is definitely a fifth man,' he concluded.
'Oh, my God!' Milo clapped a hand to his forehead. 'Then we are all in great danger.'
CHAPTER 42
They went back into the castle along the corridor and Milo, who had been hurrying, slowed down. He had a large body with small feet and now he walked in his normal manner, padding forward with slow deliberate steps. He reminded Paula of a tiger stalking its prey. Something different about his mood too. She began to feel tense and wondered why.
'That's the laboratory where the scientists work,' he said.
She looked through the windows. Inside the large room were a number of men in white coats. On metal- topped tables were various pieces of advanced equipment she didn't recognize.
'Don't forget to press the red button,' Milo warned as they passed the steel door, 'unless it's an emergency. Then the girls need to get away from their screens damn quick.'
Behind their host Tweed looked at his watch. He was hoping Milo would operate his extraordinary system soon. They were running out of time. They entered the oblong study and a babble of voices greeted them. Rondel was performing as usual, making Paula laugh as he walked placing one foot in front of the other without losing his balance.
'We have things to discuss,' Milo said in a grim voice.
'All joy ceases from now on, ladies and gentlemen,' Rondel called out. 'Serious business is afoot…'
'Please keep quiet, Blondel,' Milo said severely. 'This is no laughing matter.'
'Everyone stand to attention,' Rondel called out.
Milo ignored him, sat behind his desk which was fairly close to the vast picture window at the other end of the study. Paula noticed Milo's desk was piled high with a muddle of books. She froze. Milo had put a cigar in his mouth and picked up a silver-plated automatic. Milo swivelled his eyes, sensing she was watching him.
'No call for alarm, my dear.'
He aimed the automatic at the far wall. He pressed the trigger. A small flame spurted up from the top of the muzzle. He moved it round the tip of his cigar, began puffing it. He dropped the 'automatic' back into the muddle of books, looked at her.
'It is just a lighter. My late wife had it designed for me in London. It is one of my most precious possessions.'
'It's so original,' Paula said.
'And this is so original,' Rondel burst out, as though he wished to hold the stage. He was pointing at the huge picture window comprising the end wall. 'You thought it was ordinary glass?'
'Yes, I did,'
'Milo had it made in the Czech Republic to his own specification. It's quite thin glass but very strong. If I
