'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 gla.s.s 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 hand-set 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 a.r.s.enal 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 d.a.m.n 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 p.r.o.nounce 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 d.y.k.e 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 a.s.sure 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 sh.e.l.l-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 circ.u.mstances such as those, they hadn't much use for expressions: but their eyes were very still. Julie and Annemarie looked shocked. Kathleen and Maria were smiling, but their smiles were half-hearted and more than tinged by apprehension: no question, they had known what was coming but they still didn't like hearing it. Agnelli, O'Brien and Daniken looked thoughtful but not particularly gratified. But the normally genial Samuelson was revelling in every moment of it. True, he was still smiling, but there was no warmth in his smile: there never can be in the smile of a hungry crocodile that has just spotted his unwary lunch.

'We have here,' the announcer said, 'a further message from the FFF. They say they are prepared to release those numbers at any time, but they feel a practical demonstration to prove their possession of those nuclear devices would be much more convincing. Accordingly, they intend to explode one of those devices in the lisselmeer in the early afternoon of tomorrow. The power of the charge will be in the range of one kiloton - that is to say, the equivalent of one thousand tons Of TNT. This is expected to cause a certain disturbance of the water but the probable height of the accompanying tidal wave - tsunami is the term for it - is not precisely known. It is hoped that the inhabitants of the coastal settlements of the lisselmeer will not be too inconvenienced. Inconvenienced!' The newscaster almost spluttered the word which was obviously not in the script - or the repet.i.tion of it. He recovered himself. 'The demonstration has been delayed until the afternoon in order to allow British cabinet ministers plenty of time to fly across and join their Dutch colleagues in watching this demonstration. The precise time and place will be announced later. The device, they add, is already in position.

'Finally, they demand some money. This money, they say, will be returned. It is not blackmail money, or ransom money, merely a temporary loan to cover operating expenses. Details of the methods of payment will be announced later this evening -this is to give the parties concerned time to arrange for the transfer. The demand is for one hundred million guilders from the government, twenty million from Mr David Joseph Karl- mann Meijer, the Rotterdam industrialist. 'The newscaster laid down his paper. 'Viewers will not need reminding that Mr Meijer's daughter, Anne, is being held hostage by the terrorists.' Samuelson touched a switch before him and the screen went blank.

'I wish,' Samuelson said in a complaining voice, 'that he wouldn't call us "terrorists". "Philanthropists" is the word. I rather liked that touch about operating expenses. Anne, my dear, do sit down. You're over-excited.'

Annemarie, who was clearly and very understandably overexcited was on her feet, face pale, lips compressed, her hands unclenching and clenching into ivory-knuckled fists.

'You monster,' she whispered. 'You utterly evil monster.' 'You think so, my dear?'He looked round the room, smiling. Van Effen was one of those who smiled back at him: there were witnesses. 'Not at all. Philanthropist. Equitable redistribution of excess wealth. Besides, it's not even that. As you heard, merely a temporary loan. Don't tell me that the wealthiest man in the Netherlands can't afford that money. I know all about your father.'

'You murderer,' she said softly. Her hands were hanging straight by her sides now, and they were still. 'You murderer.' The tears were rolling down her cheeks and now Julie was on her feet, her arm around the girl's shoulders. 'You know all about my father. You know then that he has had two major heart attacks this year. You know that he came out of hospital only four days ago after his last heart attack. You've killed him.' Her voice, like her shoulders, was shaking. 'You've killed him.' Samuelson had stopped smiling. He frowned and said: 'I did not know this. Before G.o.d, I didn't.' Without apparently even pausing to think ha reached out for the handset of his RCA and pressed a b.u.t.ton. He must have received art acknowledgement almost immediately for he started talking into the mouthpiece rapidly and urgently, nearly issuing instructions in a language that no one there knew but which George, from a few odd words, recognized as being Yiddish. He replaced the handset, rose, walked around behind the bar, poured himself a brandy, not a small one, and drank the contents in two or three gulps. This Performance was watched with some astonishment but no comment was made.

Van Effen rose in turn, walked round to the bar in turn and poured brandy, two large brandies. He carried these round to Anne and Julie, waited until they had both sipped from them and resumed his seat. 'Fine lot you are when it comes to ladies in distress.' He looked at Agnelli. 'That was a nice line in threats.'

'You think they were meaningless threats, Mr Danilov? Agnelli didn't seem at all reluctant to speak, like others in the room he probably found it embarra.s.sing not to look at Samuelson who was on his second brandy and paying attention to n.o.body. 'I a.s.sure you they wet.- all genuinely intended. And will be carried out.'

'So much for your word, Agnelli.'

'I don't understand.'

'You'd have to have a d.a.m.ned short memory riot to. Only a few hours ago; you promised us that no harm would come to any Dutch people. You warn all the Lelystad people to take the necessary precautions against the breaching of the d.y.k.es. Good G.o.d, man, it's pitch black outside and coming down in torrents. They won't. be able to see to take precautions.' 'They don't have to see. Flood level won't be more than half a metre. We've checked and checked the area. Plenty of second floor rooms and attics - although they could remain on the ground floor if they didn't mind getting their feet wet. And plenty of boats. We've checked that also. The message was primarily for intimidation. Surely you can see that?'

'That's as maybe. Where's old Elastic Conscience?'

'Elastic what?'

'Elastic who. Riordan. The praying priest. The G.o.d-fearing Reverend. Why wasn't he here watching?'

Agnelli smiled faintly. 'He regards TV as the work of Satan. Could be right, for all I know. As you saw, he's practically married to his earphones. There was a simultaneous radio broadcast.' 'You do really have those nuclear devices? I find it frankly incredible.' 'I can show them to you.'

'Well, that answers that. So this man of peace and goodwill is prepared to play around with lethal explosives.'

'You heard what Mr Samuelson said to you a short time ago.' Agnelli looked quickly at the bar. Samuelson, still looking at nothing and n.o.body but with something peculiarly tense in his stance, appeared to be on yet another brandy. 'Mr Riordan's prepared to use the devil's tools to fight the devil.'

'Too late in the day to talk about pious, hypocritical plat.i.tudes, I suppose. How did you get them - those nuclear devices?' 'You heard. NATO. West Germany. Specifically, US bases.' 'I heard that. I didn't ask where. I asked how.' Van Effen looked away for a moment, then back at Agnelli. 'I know. The RAF. The Red Army Faction.'

'Yes. I would have told you but since you've guessed it or know - yes.' 'Jesus! The holy father upstairs must really have the original, twisted, double-dyed, infinite-stretch elastic conscience. The RAF! And only last night, according to the papers -correct me if I'm wrong - he was telling Wieringa, the Defence Minister, that the RAF were the inheritors of the b.l.o.o.d.y mantle of the Baader-Meinhof gangsters of the early seventies. The fact that his own hands are stained a bright red doesn't appear to worry the Reverend at all. G.o.d, I should have thought of this right away. It's only a couple of weeks since there was this successful break-in at a US army ammunition depot outside Hanover. The RAF claimed responsibility and their claim was generally accepted: the RAF is rather good at this and the Americans rather poor at guarding their installations. No mention of nuclear devices. It would have been in character for the RAF to have made specific mention of this: one supposes that they did but that the US Army, or the army through the government, put a stop order on this. Anti-nuclear sentiment is high enough already in Germany without the added knowledge that there's a bunch of woolly-headed hare-brained young terrorists on the loose with nuclear weapons in their suitcases.'