'What is a portcullis?' asked Andreas von Graffenlaub's Israeli girlfriend.
Fitzduane had learned that her family had been part of Dublin's Jewish community before emigrating to Israel. Her name was Judith Newman, and her looks were a strong argument in favor of making love and not war. She seemed quite unfazed by what was happening. Of course, she of all people would be used to terrorist threats. She came from a kibbutz near the Syrian border.
'It's the iron gate that looks like a grid. It rises and falls vertically. The idea is that it can be dropped in a hurry if any unfriendlies show up. There are spikes set into its base, so it's no fun if you are under it at the wrong time. It used to be operated by a big hand winch, but now there is an electric motor.'
'But you can see through it,' said Judith. 'It's not solid.'
'You can indeed see through it,' said Fitzduane. 'Which was partly the idea. It means you can also shoot through it. I imagine weight was also a consideration. A solid gate of that size would be impractical to raise and lower by hand on a routine basis.'
'So the bawn could be swept by fire from outside?'
'The portcullis would stop much of it, because the metal bands are two inches wide with four-inch spacings, but yes, if the wooden gate were destroyed and only the portcullis were left, the bawn would be vulnerable to fire form outside. The solution is to move around on the battlements or to use the tunnel system.'
'Tunnels,' said the Bear.
'Tunnels,' said Fitzduane. 'They are one of the reasons the Fitzduane survived over the centuries. There is a network under the castle.'
'You should get into embassy design,' said Ambassador Noble dryly.
Aboard the Sabine – 1630 hours
The three unit commanders – code-named Malabar, Icarus, and Phantom (courtesy of Baudelaire) – trooped into the room and saluted. Kadar demanded obedience and discouraged familiarity. Insisting upon the details of military discipline helped create and maintain the austere professional atmosphere he preferred.
Two of the unit commanders, Malabar and Icarus, were Arabs; they wore checked keffiyehs and camouflage combat fatigues. The third commander, Phantom -a Sardinian called Giorgio Massana – had already changed into his wet suit.
The captain's quarters of the Sabine incorporated a dayroom of adequate size. The three commanders, already laden down with ammunition pouches and other combat equipment, squeezed with difficulty onto the padded bench seat that ran around two sides of the small conference table. They waited expectantly. They had been briefed extensively already, but Kadar, they knew, parted with information the way a python sheds its skin: there always seemed to be something new underneath.
Kadar referred to his clipboard unnecessarily to mask a twinge of pain. His left hand was now gloved, and a prosthetic finger disguised his disfigurement. The details of Operation Geranium had been worked out on a computer and had resulted in enough charts and plans to fill a book, but for now he wanted to cover only a few key points. He felt like a football coach before the big game. He despised speeches before battle, but he had to admit they were effective.
He consulted the chronometer and then spoke. 'At 1730, the main staff at the college goes off duty. They leave in a minibus for their homes in and around the village and are always off the island by 1750 at the latest. That leaves behind in the college some fifty-eight students and a small night-duty faculty presence of three or four. The evening meal is served by the students themselves.' He smiled. 'There is also an armed guard of six men.'
'The critical time window for our purposes is the period of daylight from 1750 to 2200 hours. There is still some light after that time but not much, and I consider it expedient to build in a margin. Our objective is to complete the first phase within that time window.
'At 1800 hours it is normal practice for all students and night faculty to gather in the assembly hall for what they call daily review. Accordingly, 1800 hours is the pivotal implementation time for our operation. Just prior to that time a number of actions will take place.
'All communication to and from the island will be severed. Telephone and telex lines will be cut. The bridge will be blown up in such a manner as to make it look like an accident. Any radios will be destroyed.
'A small group of students aided by one faculty member, all members of the cult of the Sacrificers' he smiled again – 'will kill the police security guards and will seize the students and faculty members as they are gathered together.
'Elements of Phanom in a Pilatus Britten-Norman Islander, a small twin-engine aircraft with short takeoff and landing properties, will land on the road near the college. Further elements of Phantom Unit will assault Fitzduane's castle and eliminate the occupants.
'With the beachhead secured by Phantom Unit and their young friends, the balance of the assault force, Malabar and Icarus units, will board the high-speed inflatables as rehearsed, land, and take up position as planned. By 1830 hours at the latest, all our forces will be ashore with their objectives secured, and the island will be entirely in our hands – and no one on the mainland will be any the wiser.
'No later than 1900 hours, but with the margin built into the time window as discussed, the Islander aircraft, which is equipped with integral wingtip fuel tanks and long-range underwing fuel tanks giving it a range of fifteen hundred nautical miles, will take off again, carrying two rather special hostages.
'We shall have all night to prepare our positions in the college, with particular emphasis on laying explosives in such a way that it will be quite impossible for the government authorities even to contemplate an assault without guaranteeing the deaths of all the hostages. And all we are asking for is money – a politically quite acceptable commodity to part with and one not in short supply if one's children are involved.'
He paused and drank some mineral water. 'And of course, the whereabouts of two of the hostages will not even be known. A little extra surprise for our friends. Their father is a key figure in the present Middle East peace talks. He is a friend of the U.S. President. There is no way the Irish will risk the consequences of their deaths. The Irish government will give in, and the parents will pay; the whole exercise will take place out of sight of the world media, so there will be no problem with loss of face for anyone. Our friends in Libya have agreed to act as intermediaries.
'There is a tendency in hostage situations for the authorities to drag out the negotiations in the belief that the kidnappers – us in this case – will not carry out their threats to kill their victims. As a matter of fact, hijackers have a track record of bluffing much and killing little, so the approach of the authorities would seem to be justified. In this case, it is essential that we convince the Irish government and the parents that we are deadly serious. To that end the faculty and ten students – those with less affluent parents and of no political significance, naturally – will be killed immediately. The executions will be photographed and videotaped. Arrangements have been made to radio photographs to our agents so that the parents of the surviving students will be in no doubt from the beginning as to our intent. The video will travel in the Islander, and copies of it will be issued subsequently, if necessary.
'You will note that we are contacting both the parents and the Irish authorities simultaneously. This is to prevent the authorities from endeavoring to resolve matters on their own and to exert the maximum pressure in the shortest possible time. Further, we have made sure that both parents in every case will be informed.
'The protocols regarding details of payments and so on have already been drawn up and are with our intermediaries in Libya. They will supervise our withdrawal from the island on a government-to-government basis. It won't be the first time they have performed such a role. They rather enjoy appearing as honest brokers in these situations.
'When the bridge has been replaced by the Irish authorities – a matter of hours using a military structure – the force will depart from the island in a bus convoy and will travel to ShannonAirport, where a Libyan jet will fly us to safety. The hostages will travel with us. They will fly with us to Libya and be released on arrival' – he paused and smiled enigmatically – 'unless, of course, I come up with a more entertaining notion.'
Kadar looked at the unit commanders. 'Any questions?'
There was silence at first. The commanders were confident, forceful men, but Kadar awed them. He was brilliant, he was violent, and he was unpredictable – but he rewarded results. Experience had shown that blind obedience was the best policy most of the time. Questions were not normally expected, but Kadar seemed to want to talk. He was justifiably enthusiastic, almost euphoric; it was a thorough plan, and all three commanders were
