‘Where else?’
‘And ignore them totally.’
‘Totally.’
Nine
The barn that served as a garage was cold and draughty and leaking and couldn’t have served as a barn for many years: the air was heavy with the unsavoury smell of musty hay although there was no trace of hay to be seen. But it was clean and well fit, enough to show that the army truck’s freshly painted bodywork had vanished under a thick encrustation of mud. George and O’Brien were bent over what appeared to be some kind of check-list when van Effen entered. George looked over O’Brien’s shoulder and lifted an interrogative eyebrow. Van Effen gave a brief nod in return, then said: ‘About through?’
‘Finished,’ George said. ‘All present and correct, I think.’ ‘Think,’ O’Brien said. ‘Check, re-check and cross- check. Never saw a man so meticulous about anything.’ Julie and Annemarie had taken what seemed like an unconscionably long time before making their departure. ‘But I did learn a little about explosives. And a lot about drinking beer.’ They switched off the lights, padlocked the doors — George pointedly pocketing the key while making some remark to the effect that signed receipts came first — and entered the mill. Julie and Annemarie were seated at a table by the fire, each with a small glass before her, a sure indication, van Effen knew, that they had read the note he had left with them. He noted, approvingly, that both girls regarded their entry with an open curiosity: it would have been an odd person indeed who would have registered indifference when encountering George’s vast bulk for the first time. Across the fire-place, and seated at another table, Samuelson was just replacing the handset of a rather splendid-looking radio transceiver: when obtaining new equipment the FFF obviously didn’t patronise second-hand markets.
‘All well?’ Samuelson said.
‘All well,’ O’Brien said. ‘Just about managed to stop George testing the detonators with his teeth. That’s quite an arsenal you have there, Mr Samuelson.’
‘Sign here, please.’ George laid three copies of the inventory on the table before Samuelson who signed them, thus confirming that he was, indeed, the man in charge, smiled and handed them back. to George who solemnly handed over the garage padlock key.
‘A pleasure to do business with you, George. How would you like & fee to be paid?’
‘Not time for the— fee yet,’ George said. ‘The inventory is only a promise. Wait for the guarantee — let’s see if the damn things work.’ Samuelson smiled again. ‘I thought businessmen always demanded cash on delivery.’
‘Not this businessman. If, of course, you decide not to use them, then I’ll present the bill — you understand that I can’t very well return them to the ordnance store. Or if you decide to dispense with our services.’ ‘Still a pleasure, George. I’m quite certain we’ll be requiring both your goods and your services. Weli, gentlemen, we’ll be hearing a rather-‘ He broke off, looked at van Effen, patted the radio and said: ‘You know what this is, don’t you’ ‘
‘A transceiver. RCA. The best, I believe. If you’d a mind to, you could reach the moon with thar.’
‘It can reach Amsterdam, which is all I want. Helmut. Helmut Paderiwski, whom you have met, I believe.’
‘Yes. I rather wondered where Helmut was.’
‘Our voice in the capital. He has just arranged for our latest message to be made known.’ He glanced at the wall clock. ‘Exactly eight minutes. TV and radio. We’ve decided not to bother about newspapers any more. I am not being smug when I say that we can now get instant coverage whenever we wish it. I think you’ll all I find it a rather interesting message — messages rather. Don’t you think we should give them — ah — advance notice, Romero? Mix Danilov here has said that he likes to know what’s going on before he reads or hears about it.’ ‘If it Is your wish, of course.’ Agnelli was his usual smiling self. ‘But I would rather they saw it on TV. I think it would be interesting to see what the reaction of the average Dutch citizen would be.’ ‘We’ll wait. It’s unimportant. Although I’d hardly call those three average Dutch citizens. Ah! Our provision party has returned.’ The two girls van Effen had met the previous evening in the room off the Voorburgwal entered, each carrying a shopping basket. They were followed by a young man who was having some difficulty in coping with a huge hamper he was carrying.
‘Welcome back,’ Samuelson said benignly. ‘A successful expedition, I see. Ah! Introductions. Mr Danilov, of course, you’ve met. This is George, this is the Captain who for some obscure reason is called the Lieutenant. Maria. Kathleen. You look puzzled, Mr Danilov.’
‘That’s a lot of food.’
‘True, true. But a lot of mouths to feed.’
‘It’s a fair way to Utrecht.’
‘Utrecht? My dear fellow, we shop at the local village store. Delighted to have our trade. Ah, the factor of anonymity.’ He laughed. ‘Romero. If you would be so kind.’
Romero led van Effen to the front door, opened it and gestured. At the foot of the steps stood a dark blue van. Emblazoned on its side, in golden lettering, was the legend Golden Gate Film Productions. ‘Ingenious,’ van Effen said.
‘It is, rather. Not a famous enough name to attract national attention but we’re certainly well enough known locally. Been here for almost a month now. We have a camera crew almost continuously on the move around the area. An isolated spot, this, and it brings a touch of colour into their otherwise drab lives. No trouble at all in recruiting house and kitchen staff-we are generous employers and very well thought of locally.’ ‘You’d be even better thought of if they knew that this is probably the only area in the Netherlands that’s immune from flooding.’ “Mere’s that, there’s that.’ Agnelli seemed quite pleased with the idea. ‘War film, I need hardly say. Hence the helicopter. Had to get official permission, of course, but that was a mere formality.’
‘I’d wondered how you’d managed that. You do have your nerve, that I must say.’
‘Just had a thought. This newly acquired truck. Change of paint and it can move around in complete freedom. War film — army truck. Follows, no?’ ‘Yes. This is your brain-ch: ld, of course?’
‘Yes. But why “of course”F
‘You do have a certain talent for devious organization.’
The TV announcer, soberly suited and tied and ominously grave in expression, looked as if he were about to pronounce a funeral oration. ‘We have just received what is called an interim communique from London. It — says that the talks about the Dutch crisis are continuing and that a further communique can be expected within the hour. ‘It was expected that some further statements would be received from this terrorist organization calling itself the FFF. Those have arrived some fifteen minutes ago. They are not so much statements as threats of the very gravest nature.
‘The first of those states that they, the FFF, expect to hear by midnight that a definite and affirmative answer — that is an answer agreeing to the FFF’s demands — will be announced before 8 a.m. tomorrow. If they do not hear such confirmation by midnight, the Oostlijk-Flevoland dyke will be blown at five minutes past midnight. The citizens of Lelystad are advised to begin to take precautionary measures now. If they fail to do this, the FFF now disclaim all responsibility for their fate. ‘The second statement makes the announcement that the FFF have in their possession a number of nuclear explosive devices which they will not hesitate to use, if the need arises, to achieve their ends. The FFF hastens to assure the people of the Netherlands that those nuclear devices are not of the calibre of hydrogen or atomic weapons. They are tactical battlefield devices intended for delivery by plane, rocket or shell-fire. All are of American manufacture, some still on the secret list. All have been obtained from NATO bases in Germany. They have the serial numbers of those devices — they are clearly stamped on each one — and the US forces in Germany can confirm that those devices are, in fact, missing. If, that is, they are prepared to give this confirmation.’
There was a pause while the newscaster broke off to accept and glance at a sheet of paper that had just been handed him by a studio colleague: judging from the stricken expression on the colleague’s face, he had already read the message.
Van Effen looked around the room. No newscaster, he felt certain, had ever had so rapt an audience. The faces of George and the Lieutenant were expressionless, but that was only because, in certain circumstances such
