signs of strain or tension, he could have been taking a pleasant saunter in the afternoon sun, and, indeed, the afternoon was extremely pleasant. The skies were cloudless, the view all around came straight from the pages of a fairy-tale book and the waters of the Golden Gate and the Bay sparkled in the warm sun. Having had his fill of the view, Branson consulted his watch, strolled unhurriedly towards the Presidential coach, knocked on the door, opened it and stepped inside. He surveyed the occupants and the sound of voices stilled.
Branson said pleasantly: 'You have arrived at a decision, gentlemen?' There was no reply. 'Am I to take it, then, that you have arrived at an impasse?'
The President lowered the very large gin and martini with which he had been sustaining himself.
'We require more time for our deliberations.'
'You've had all the time you're going to have. You could sit here all day and get no further. If all your minds weren't so devious and at the same time so closed to the facts of life, you'd recognize this for the painfully simple issue it is. Pay up or else. And don't forget the escalation penalty clause.'
The President said: 'I have a proposal to make.'
'Let's hear it.'
'Permit the King, Prince and Sheikh Kharan to go. I shall remain as hostage. The situation would remain the same. You would still have the President of the United States. For that matter I can't see why you don't let
Branson was admiring. 'My heavens, what a perfectly splendid gesture. Noble, I should say. Why, do that, and the electorate would demand that they re-alter the constitution and let their hero run for another three terms instead of one.' He smiled and went on without a change in tone. 'No way, Mr President. Apart from the fact that I shudder at the very thought of you being in the White House for the next thirteen years I've always dreamt of holding a hand of cards with four aces in it. Here I've got four. One is not enough. And has it ever occurred to you that if you
The President spilt a considerable amount of his gin and martini on the carpet.
Branson looked at Quarry, Milton and Hendrix in turn, said: 'Gentlemen', and left the coach. The three men followed. The President carefully didn't watch them go. He appeared to have found something of profound interest in the depths of what remained of his drink.
Outside, Branson spoke to Van Effen. 'Get that TV van and crew back here again. Make sure the TV companies are notified.'
Van Effen nodded. 'It would be wrong of you to let the nation suffer this agonizing suspense. Where are you going?'
'To the south end with those three gentlemen.'
'As guaranteed escort for their safety? Can't they take the word of a gentleman?'
'Not that. I just want to inspect the progress being made on the barrier. Saves the walk, that's all.'
The four men climbed into the police car and drove off.
Still alone in the press coach, Revson watched them go then returned his attention to the three small sheets of notepaper on his knees. Each was smaller than the average postcard and all three were covered with small, neat and incomprehensible writing. He focused his camera and photographed each three times — Revson always covered his bets. He then took each paper in turn, set fire to it and crushed the blackened remains in his ash-tray. It was a very curious paper for it gave off no smoke. He then wound off the camera spool, sealed it and wrapped it in a very thin lead foil; as he had promised O'Hare, the completed result was no larger than half a cigarette.
He reloaded his camera and went outside. The atmosphere of suspense and excitement had markedly heightened. He spoke to a near-by newspaperman — understandably, he knew none of them by name.
'Something new afoot?'
'Branson's just sent for the television van again.'
'Do you know why?'
'No idea.'
'Nothing very important, probably. Maybe he's always had a yen to appear on TV. Maybe he's just wanting to keep the pressure on the nation and the government — and the Arabian governments too, for this time the big three companies will be geared for action, the satellites will be ready and waiting and so will be all the Persian Gulf. The executives of the big companies will be hard put to it to shed crocodile tears for the plight of their beloved President and at the same time refrain from jumping for joy. The biggest show on earth and all for free. What's the odds Branson won't be putting on a late show about two in the morning?'
Revson shot about a dozen other pictures. The chances of its being discovered that he had taken no pictures at all were remote in the extreme, but then again Revson always covered his bets. He drifted casually across to where O'Hare was leaning against his ambulance and shook a cigarette from its pack.
'Light, doctor?'
'Sure.' O'Hare produced a lighter and lit it Revson cupped the flame in his hands to shield it from the very slight breeze and as he did so he slid the spool into O'Hare's palm.
'Thanks, Doc.' He looked idly around. There was no one within earshot. 'How long to hide?'
'One minute. I have the place for it'
'Two minutes and you'll have your patient'
O'Hare went into the ambulance while Revson sauntered half-way across the bridge where April Wednesday was prudently standing alone, a circumstance normally very difficult for her to achieve. She looked at him, wet her lips and tried to smile at him. It wasn't a very successful effort.
Revson said: 'Who's that solid dependable-looking character standing by the engine of the ambulance?'
'Grafton. United Press. A nice man.'
'Go and collapse gracefully against him. Discretion is of the essence. We don't want any undue fuss. But first let me get to the other side of the bridge I want to be at a safe distance when you're taken ill.'
When Revson reached the far side of the bridge he turned and looked back April had already begun to head in the direction of the ambulance. Her gait seemed a little unsteady but not markedly so. She may he scared, he thought — and she unquestionably was — but she can act.
She was about fifteen feet distant from Grafton when he first saw her or, more precisely, when she first attracted his attention. He regarded her slightly wavering approach with curiosity, a curiosity which quickly turned to concern. He took two quick steps forward and caught her by the shoulders. She leaned gratefully against him, lips and eyes compressed as in pain.
'April Wednesday,' he said. 'What's the matter, girl?'
'I've a terrible pain. It just hit me now.' Her voice was husky and she was holding herself with both hands. 'It — it feels like a heart attack.'
'How would you know?' Grafton said reasonably, his tone reassuring. 'And wherever your heart is, it's not on the right-hand side of your tummy. Don't misinterpret me, but some people have all the luck.' He took her firmly by the arm. 'There's a doctor only five yards from here.'
From the far side of the bridge Revson watched them vanish round to the rear of the ambulance. As far as he could reasonably tell, he had been the only person to observe the brief by-play.
Branson walked unhurriedly away from the half-completed southern barrier, apparently well satisfied with the progress of the work in hand. He reached the rear coach and swung up to sit beside Chrysler.
'Any more sensational revelations?'
'No. Mr Branson. It's all become a bit repetitive and boring. You can have a play-back or transcript if you like but it's not worth it.'
'I'm sure it's not. Tell me.'
'Can I switch off, Mr Branson? They're really not worth listening to.'
'They never were. Well?'
