the small room was the constant sound of his chattering teeth.
Zimmermann stood near the door of the office that had been put at their disposal by the commanding officer of the Grenzschutz HQ at Waldsassen. Sir William Guest's flat in Albany was still unoccupied. The clock on the wall displayed nine for another moment, then its minute hand jerked forward. Babbington was due to land at Heathrow in thirty minutes. Zimmermann entirely agreed with Hyde. Once he disembarked, he would be warned off; taken swiftly into hiding and smuggled out of the country. No exchange, no return of Aubrey.
'Is there no one else?' he asked softly.
Hyde shook his head violently. The green blotting-pad on the desk was sprinkled with damp spots as the melted ice flicked from his hair. He swallowed his coffee greedily, then wiped his mouth.
'No, there's no one else.'
'Not even the very top?'
Hyde looked up in disbelief. 'Me ring the Prime Minister, or something?' he asked scornfully. Then shook his head more reflectively. 'I'd be sidetracked. One of Babbington's people — I'd never get to anyone who could act. There's only Guest.'
'You are certain they will dispose of Aubrey at once — without delay?'
'Aren't you?'
Zimmermann rubbed his chin, then sighed. 'Yes. In their place, I would not allow him to be seen again, by anyone, once he left the aircraft. Anything else would be a risk, a finesse.' He nodded, as if some inner self had finally become convinced of the argument's inevitable logic, then raised his arms in a gesture of helplessness. Hyde merely continued to stare at the telephone clamped to the desk amplifier, his hands kneading the pottery of his mug as if to reshape it.
Nine-three.
'Are you trying that number?' Hyde snapped in English at the intercom.
Zimmermann walked swiftly to the desk and issued instructions in clipped, precise phrases. The Grenzschutz switchboard operator offered assurances of his best efforts. Zimmermann looked up at Hyde.
'I have instructed them that the number is to be left ringing. Continuously.'
Hyde was about to reply when the door opened. The features of the Grenzschutz Kapitan were clouded with doubt, even embarrassment. His eyes displayed a sense of having been deceived and there was a stiff, ominous rectitude about his lips. He closed the door behind him.
'Herr Professor Zimmermann,' he began formally. 'I must ask you to accompany me, please.'
'What is the matter?' Zimmermann snapped back, his eyes angry and affronted. Hyde sensed that he had already-weighed the situation, completely understood it. 'I do not understand, Kapitan.'
Immediately, the Frontier Guard officer was at a disadvantage. But he persisted: 'You have deceived me and my men, Herr Professor. This is not a matter of Federal security. You are at present—' He hesitated, as if once more embarrassed, then added: 'You are not officially recognised, Herr Professor. You do not have official status.'
Hyde, turning his head from face to face, realised that someone had acted without hesitation to inform Bonn of Zimmerrnann's whereabouts and intentions. The ramifications did not bear consideration. The immediate was dangerous enough. This captain could stop them simply by denying them access to a telephone. The thread was that fine, that fragile. Hyde forced himself to say nothing, closing his eyes like a child against something frightening or dangerous.
'Please, Herr Professor,' the captain pleaded. 'This is a very embarrassing moment. Please, you will accompany me now—'
Immediately, Zimmermann replied in a raised, authoritative voice: 'No! Captain, I will not leave your office. I will not do as you ask.'
The captain's dark, rounded features scowled, and his eyes glanced momentarily down as if seeking a reminder of his rank and authority. 'Herr Professor—' he warned.
'Captain — you are responsible for a stretch of border perhaps fifty miles long — yes?'
Puzzled, the officer nodded. 'Yes—'
'Good. You have light and heavy armoured cars at your disposal. You conduct patrols. You are one of twenty thousand.' Zimmermann hesitated, then pounced with biting sarcasm. 'I could get ten, fifty, a hundred officers to do your job — this moment — from the ranks of the Bundeswehr or the Grenzschutz or even the Territorialheer reservists!' The captain's face opened in surprise, his jaw dropping beneath cheeks growing pink and eyes that signaled his sense of outrage. Zimmermann hurried his words, his tone studiedly angry and dismissive. Hyde appreciated the performance, even as his eyes glanced at the clock. 'Do you understand my meaning, Captain? Do you understand what I am saying? On my side, there is myself and this Englishman — no one else. I cannot be replaced, neither can he. Nor will we be. What could you expect to understand about security? About our world!' He gestured in Hyde's direction. 'You receive a telephone call from someone in Bonn you have never heard of, and you jump to do as he says? Do you think we dragged this man out of the river for humanitarian reasons? Do you? I suggest you spend some time — perhaps thirty minutes, checking your instructions. Meanwhile, you will leave us here, in the safety of your office where the door and the windows can be guarded,
Zimmermann, to emphasis his assumed, false control of the situation, immediately placed himself behind the captain's desk, apparently relaxed and comfortable in the officer's own chair. Rights of occupation, Hyde thought. Nine-six. Twenty-four minutes. Hyde once more squeezed his eyes shut. His teeth had ceased to chatter. The electric fire near his legs now gave out an appreciable warmth. He felt the last of the coffee warm in his stomach.
'I — ' the captain began, his face flushed, his eyes now calculating behind the anger.
'Well, captain? Well?' Zimmermann persisted. 'If we are a danger to the state, you have us well controlled — in custody already. Haven't you?'
The captain's hands were bunched at his sides. His dislike of Zimmermann became masked and hidden. His eyes moved rapidly as if he were dreaming where he stood. What if—? What chance—? Hyde saw the questions dart and flicker. Could he avoid offending Zimmermann and Bonn at the same time? Zimmermann was a powerful man, his authority only suspect, not ended. Eventually, he nodded.
'Very well. This room will be placed under guard, Herr Professor — in twenty minutes, I shall return. You will then be placed in proper custody until I receive further orders. Any use you make of the telephone will, of course, be monitored.' Zimmermann shrugged as if indifferent, and the captain, hiding his anger at the further insult, turned on his heel and left the office. They heard him barking orders in the outer room.
Nine-eight.
'Jesus—!' Hyde began.
Zimmermann waved him to silence. 'It was nothing,' he observed with assumed modesty and a smile. 'But, they are moving very quickly. They have excellent communications. They will definitely attempt to save Babbington when he lands in — in twenty-one minutes.' His fingers drummed on the desk. Through the window a high pale sky retreated beyond hills dark with pine. A guard ostentatiously took up position in full view outside the window. Zimmermann laughed. 'Ridiculous.'
'Anything yet?' Hyde asked the intercom, flicking the switch up for the switchboard operator's reply.
'Nothing, sir.'
'Sir,' Hyde remarked ironically.
'He is playing even safer than his officer.'
'And, in twenty minutes' time?'
'That could be — awkward? I do not know what will happen. I will be in trouble with my ministry, of course. Whether any — more permanent measures might be taken, I cannot say. It depends on what power they can wield. And who could be certain about that?'
Nine-eleven. Nineteen minutes. The KGB might even meet Babbington on the tarmac. Come on, come on—
'Christ—!' Hyde exploded, hurling the empty mug at the clock on the wall. It struck below it and shattered. Hyde had begun shaking once more, and tugged the blanket more tightly around him. His feet shifted, his teeth ground with rage rather than cold.
