'The second is that the British Foreign Minister, Defence Minister, the chief of the Imperial General Staff and the First Sea Lord are en route to Amsterdam in a VC10 to witness the detonation of this nuclear device in the Markerwaard at 2 P.M.

'The third is that the government have offered an amnesty to the two as yet unnamed prisoners whose release has been demanded by the FFF. 'We will, of course, be back on screen at 2 P.m.'

'Well,' van Effen said, 'it looks like wholesale surrender.' 'Matters are certainly proceeding quite satisfactorily,' Samuelson said modestly. 'We will each take a minimum of luggage with us. This can be concealed in the rear of the helicopter - soldiers on active duty do not carry suitcases around with them. Lunch will be at twelve-thirty, so we have about two and a half hours to wait till then. I do not think it would be a good idea to indulge in any more jonge jenevers so I suggest we rest. Although we are not returning tonight we have quarters prepared for you, to which you will be shown. Tell me, Lieutenant, do you intend to have a snooze?'

'No'

'Then perhaps you would be kind enough to come down, say, every twenty minutes, and try to contact Ylvisaker?'

'If you think it's worth trying, certainly. I'll go upstairs, have a wash, pack what little equipment I have to pack and be down in twenty minutes. After that, I might as well stay down. 'Vasco smiled. 'No furtive trips to the bar, I promise you.'

The room to which van Effen and his companions were shown was almost a duplicate of the one they had left in the other windmill. Vasco carried out his usual meticulous search and p.r.o.nounced the room clear. Van Effen said: 'Samuelson is rather concerned about the non-arrival of Ylvisaker and his friends who, I think we may take it, are at present being detained at Her Majesty's pleasure.

More importantly, Samuelson seems to think that it's all over bar the shouting. The possibility of failure doesn't now exist for him. That's a very dangerous state of mind to be in - dangerous for him, I mean.' George said: 'And what do you think he'll do when he gets to the dam.' 'Take it over. I can't see that giving him any trouble. Then he'll tell the government that he has done just that. Coming so soon after the nuclear explosion in the Markerwaard, it should have a devastating effect on the government who will all too clearly appreciate the implications and realize that the FFF has the nation by the throat.' 'And then,' Vasco said, 'they blow a few bits of concrete off the dam just to show they mean business.'

'Nothing like that,' van Effen said. 'Nothing so crude. The explosives are Agnelli's idea. Apart from being a first-cla.s.s organizer, Agnelli is a very prudent fellow. I believe that the explosives are for back-up purposes only, just in case something should go wrong. 'What I do believe is that O'Brien knows as much about the controls of the hydraulic gates as the man who designed them. They just open the sluices.'

'And if the authorities cut off the power from the mainland, if you can call it that?' Vasco said. 'Then, perhaps, the explosives?' 'There have to be standby generators, O'Brien will have checked on that. As far as the safety of the country is concerned, the sluice gates of the Haringvliet are the most vital installations in the country. Imagine the sluice gates being open at low tide and a major power failure occurs? They simply cannot afford to rely on a single source of power. 'For the moment, however, and much more importantly, Samuelson and Agnelli have been kind enough to provide us with a detailed outline of their plans.'

George rubbed his hands. 'And now we make our own plans.' 'Now we make our own plans.'

Some forty minutes after Vasco had gone down to the living room he was joined by Samuelson. Vasco, sitting on the radio chair and idly leafing through a magazine, looked up at his entrance.

'Any luck, Lieutenant?'

'None. I've called four times- every ten minutes, not twenty, as you asked. Nothing.'

'Good G.o.d, good G.o.d!' Unmindful of his own admonitions, Samuelson went behind the bar and brought back two jonge jenevers. 'Ylvisaker is wildly overdue. What on earth can have happened to him?'

'I've been thinking, Mr Samuelson. He hasn't blown himself to pieces or the news would be all over the country by now. Let's a.s.sume he's had an accident or had a breakdown. Let's further a.s.sume he doesn't know how to operate the radio. What would you have done, sir?' 'Gone to the nearest phone and informed us. It's difficult to move far in any direction in this country without coming across a house with a phone or a public call box.'

'Exactly. Does Ylvisaker know the telephone number of this place?' Samuelson stared at him then said: 'Ylvisaker has never been here. Wait.' He hurried from the room and returned within a minute, his face grim. 'The consensus of opinion is that Ylvisaker does not know this number.' 'But you know the precise route he was taking?'

'Of course. Two men, a fast car. Bound to intercept. Thank you, Lieutenant. I'm glad to see that there are some minds still working around these parts.'

'Shall I keep on trying, Mr Samuelson?'

'It's a faint chance, isn't it?'

Vasco shrugged. 'Very faint. But nothing else for me to do.' 'Thank you.' Samuelson brought him another jonge jenever. 'Another trifle like this is not going to hurt a mind as clear as yours.' 'That is kind. I think I'll have it on the veranda, if I may. It is a bit overheated in here.'

'Of course, of course.' Samuelson hurried from the room.

The car was a tan-coloured BMW with Antwerp number plates. Vasco watched the car and its two occupants disappear round a comer, finished his drink in a thoughtful manner, then returned inside. He went to the radio, switched wave-band and wave-length and said softly in Flemish: 'Record.' He spoke for no more than twelve seconds, then switched back to the previous wave-band and length. He tried again for Ylvisaker and was answered by the some silence. He refreshed his drink at the bar, resumed his radio chair, glanced through a magazine and again called the missing truck with the same lack of response. He tried twice more in the next twenty minutes with the same lack of response. He was still trying to make contact when Samuelson returned. He looked at Vasco, went behind the bar and returned with two more drinks. 'Breaking my own rules, I know, but you've earned it and I feel the need for it. Nothing?'

'Dead. I know Mr Danilov makes a point of being incurious about everything but I'm a serving army officer. just how important are those nuclear devices to you?'

'Almost entirely psychological. If necessary, I would have used them to blow off both the northern and southern approaches to the Haringvliet dam.' 'Whatever for? No senior military commander in the Netherlands would dream of attacking the Haringvliet dam. Bombers? Never. Fighter planes? Never. Not only is your gunship more than a match for any fighter, not only do you have ground-to-air missiles, you will have a large number of hostages whose lives they would never imperil. Destroyer? Torpedo boats? Ground to-ground missiles are heat-seeking. They're lethal.'

'Not bombers?'

'What would happen if they breached the Haringvliet darn?' 'Of course. Well, no point in trying any longer. Perhaps we should both have a brief rest before lunch.'

Vasco gave van Effen and George a brief resume of what had happened.

Van Effen said: 'So you've convinced Samuelson of his total invulnerability and ensured that we will have two fewer hard men to cope with abroad the dam. Whom did you notify?'

'Rotterdam police.'

'I think, George, that we may make a policeman of him yet. Well, another hour or so before lunch.'

'Snooze for me,' Vasco said. 'Four jonge jenevers in succession are too much for my delicate const.i.tution.'

'What did you say?'

'Dutch hospitality. You know what it's like.'

Lunch was more than adequate but less than convivial. Samuelson tried to maintain a cheerful facade but he was deeply worried about the fate of his nuclear devices and his worry was palpable with the result that the last half hour of the meal was consumed in almost total silence.

Over coffee, Samuelson said to van Effen: 'Do you think it possible that Ylvisaker and his men could have been seized by the authorities, army or police?' I unlikely. I don't see how they could have been. Your is total. Even if they had been, the question is, would Ylvisaker his men have talked?'

'About the Haringvliet dam? No. Until we got here today only Riordan, Agnelli, Daniken and O'Brien were privy to the plans.' Samuelson smiled faintly. 'Your famous need-to-know maxim, Mr Danilov.' 'One does not want to sound cynical or callous, but what the h.e.l.l are you worrying about, then?'

'As you can see,' the TV announcer said, 'the weather is as atrocious as ever with correspondingly poor visibility, such as one would expect as dusk approaches. The rain is extremely heavy and the wind, between Force eight and nine, has backed to the north-west. We have four cameras in position - one near Hoorn and one near Volendam, on the west side of the Markerwaard and one on the opposite sh.o.r.e near Helystad. This one, I'm afraid, is virtually useless: in spite of its lens hood the rain is driving straight into the lens. We have a fourth camera in a helicopter and we understand they are having a very rough time indeed. The time is 1.58. Our first shots will be taken from the helicopter.' A white-capped, storm-tossed sea appeared on the screen. Detail was blurred and shifting, because the helicopter was being, it was clear, severely buffeted about, hence making it impossible to maintain a steady camera direction. Another voice took over from the studio announcer.

'Helicopter camera here. I can a.s.sure you that my friend in the studio was not exaggerating. The conditions are abominable and I have to confess that the only person who is not sick is, most fortunately, the pilot. We are flying at seven hundred metres, give or take fifty metres every time this d.a.m.n machine is going up or down, which we hope is a safe height if the nuclear explosion and its accompanying water spout should occur, which G.o.d forbid, directly beneath us. It is now precisely 2 p.m. and - his voice rose almost by an octave - there goes! There it goes! Me and my big mouth.

It is directly beneath us!

The camera lens had been extended to maximum zoom. The surface of the Markerwaard boiled whitely and erupted a great column of water climbing vertically skywards toward s the helicopter's camera.

'Would you look at that?' the excited voice went on. 'Would you just look at that?' It seemed rather a superfluous question, as, unquestionably, almost every eye in the Netherlands was looking at nothing else. 'And the air is full of spray. Our pilot is moving as quickly as possible to the north-west - we want to get out of this area as quickly as possible. We are making poor time in this north-west gale, but he is clearly hoping that that same gale will blow the spout and spray away from us. So do Van Effen looked at Samuelson. He appeared to have gone into some kind of trance. The only sign of movement came from his hands. His fingers were interlocked but his thumbs were revolving slowly around each other. The studio announcer appeared. 'I am afraid the helicopter's lenses are clouded by that spray. We regret that none of the other three cameras are in visual contact. The detonation appears to have occurred almost exactly in the centre of the Markerwaard.' The helicopter commentator's voice came again. 'Sorry about that. What with the spray and rain we are at the moment quite blind. We are still moving steadily north-west. Wait a minute, wait a minute. We have eyes again.' The spout was collapsing on itself. The camera, zoom half retracted, was only momentarily on the spout, then began panning the surrounding area. A circle of water could be seen moving steadily outwards from the centre. 'That,' the commentator said 'must be the expected tidal wave. Doesn't look much like a wave to me, but, then, from this alt.i.tude it is impossible to gauge the height of the water.'

The picture faded to be replaced by the studio announcer. 'We are trying to - wait, wait, we have Volkendam.'

A camera, at full zoom, showed a swell of water, little more than a ripple, it seemed, rapidly approaching the sh.o.r.e-line. A commentator said: 'I agree with my colleague in the helicopter. This is hardly my idea of a tidal wave. However, I understand those tsunami tend to increase in height as the water shallows. We shall see.'

There wasn't, in fact, much to sec. With the wave less than a hundred metres from land, the commentator estimated its height as just under a metre, which was pretty much in accordance with the scientists' predictions. Samuelson gestured for the set to be switched off. 'A few wet feet, no more,' he said. 'And not a life lost. An impressive performance, wouldn't you say, Mr Danilov?

'Most impressive.' True, probably not a life had been lost. Not that day. But the years to come might well record a different story: the radio-active fall-out would have fallen or would be falling over the already flood-beleaguered Flevolands. But it hardly seemed an appropriate moment to point this out to Samuelson.

Samuelson said: 'Romero, radio the message to the Haringvliet dam. Emphasize the need for absolute radio silence. Where the devil are those two who went in search of Ylvisaker and his friends?'n.o.body knew where the devil they were. 'Five good men lost to me. Five!'

'It's annoying, Mr Samuelson,.' Vasco said. 'And worrisome. But it can have no effect on the outcome. We have seventeen men. With the element of total surprise in our favour I could guarantee to take the Haringvliet with only four men.'

Samualson smiled. 'That's a comfort. We leave in twenty minutes.'

They left in twenty minutes. All the soldiers were armed, all carried either rucksacks or satchels. Neither van Effen nor George were armed, at least not visibly, but they, too, carried satchels, both crammed with gas grenades. In addition, van Effen had taken the precaution of taking his Yves Saint Laurent aerosol,