'I'll go now,' she said.

'Put your coat on,' called out Mrs C., disappearing into another room. 'It's pretty nippy out there.'

She must have eyes in the back of her head,. Paula thought. She was slipping on her coat as she went out into the farmyard. Newman, standing at the entrance to a narrow pa.s.sage between two old barns, beckoned to her. She followed him, emerged at the other end into the open. She gazed around. As on her previous visit, she thought she had never seen bleaker terrain.

To the south, until the ground belonging to the farm terminated at a hedge, the land was almost completely flat, covered with miserable tufts of gra.s.s. Like a desert, she said to herself. A chill wind, freezing her face, made her glad she'd taken Mrs C.'s advice.

'This way,' said Newman.

He was leading her to a copse of very tall leafless deciduous trees. Thick, black, skeletal branches extended out way above her. Marler was standing next to a large thigh-high wooden box which had a pyramid of thick wires over it. From the tip of the pyramid a pulley was attached. A cable, extended high up, was looped over two heavy branches, then its remaining length dropped to the ground. Marler was wearing motoring gloves. 'What on earth is all this?' Paula asked.

'Observation point. One of Alf's Gulf War veterans said we needed one. And that box he's standing by is like one of those cat's cradles window cleaners are suspended from to clean the windows of high buildings. Care for a ride up?'

'On my own? Who made the box?'

'Alf, with the help of Marler and some of Alf's men. When this place was built the builders left behind a workhouse complete with tools in one of those barns. And you won't be on your own. I'm coming up with you.'

Newman had a powerful pair of binoculars slung around his neck. From the pocket of his weather-proof jacket he produced Beck's mobile, loaned to him by Tweed. Marler had his own mobile suspended from his neck.

'Communication,' said Newman. 'All aboard.'

He helped her climb inside the cradle, then joined her. There was plenty of room for both of them. She heard Marler shout to one of Alf's men to come and give a hand. Hypnotized, she watched the two men, both with gloved hands, haul on the wire cable. She gripped the side of the cradle with both hands as it began its ascent. It moved upwards faster than she had antic.i.p.ated, swayed a little. She gritted her teeth, refused to look down. Newman put an arm round her waist.

'Safe as houses.'

'I'll have to take your word for that.'

She experienced an unexpected change of mood as the ascent continued. As a vast panorama of Romney Marsh spread out she experienced a sense of exhilaration. They were very high up when their cradle stopped moving. She stared at a large wooden platform, constructed of wooden planks, situated between heavy branches.

'Time to disembark,' said Newman. 'Don't look down.'

He helped her to leave the cradle. Then she was standing on the platform. Her nervousness disappeared as she gazed into the distance.

'You can see far out into the Channel.'

'That's the idea. Like to use my binoculars? I'll hold on to you,' he said, clasping her round the waist.

'I can see a ship sailing up the Channel.' She focused the binoculars. 'I can read its name. The Mexicali Mexicali. This is wonderful.'

'Get the idea?'

'We'll see them coming. No, it will be dark.'

'So we use night gla.s.ses. And we have communication.' He took out Beck's mobile. 'Marler, they're here.'

'What? Where!' Where!'

'Just joking.'

'Bob, don't do that again. I was about to raise a general alarm.'

'Sorry. That was stupid of me.' He.looked at Paula. 'At least it proves the communication works. Time to go down.'

When they had climbed back into the cradle Newman called Marler on the mobile. The two men waiting on the ground released the wire cable from a large iron hook driven deep into the ground they had wrapped the end round. As it descended Paula noticed a thin black cable attached to the tree trunk. She pointed to it.

'What is that?'

"The cable from the underground complex up to a camouflaged aerial at the top of this tree. We had a normal thirty-foot mast sticking up out of the ground, thought it was too prominent, so we subst.i.tuted that.'

'Clever.'

The cradle landed gently and Paula stepped out with Newman. She was surprised to realize her legs felt stiff. With tension, she a.s.sumed. They next showed her how to operate one of the compact mobile searchlights which manoeuvred easily on thick rubber tyres. At Newman's suggestion she aimed it at the copse of evergreens concealing the taxi cabs. She switched it on, was startled by the intensity of the device even in daylight. The evergreens glowed in the glare. She switched if off quickly. Mrs C. appeared.

'I've slowed down lunch,' she called out. 'You're busy. Tweed said he'd like you to join him. He's way over by the perimeter.'

It was quite a walk over the open ground but Paula welcomed it. A chance to stretch her legs, get them moving. Tweed stood, hands in his coat pockets, waiting for them.

'See anything wrong with this hedge?' he asked her. 'No,' she replied, after studying it. 'Just a very p.r.i.c.kly hedge.'

'Very p.r.i.c.kly,' he told her. 'We've entwined coils of barbed wire inside the whole length of hedge round the perimeter. The wire was painted the same colour as the twigs. Anyone trying to get through it will be ripped to pieces.'

'Diabolical,' she said.

'We're playing for keeps,' Tweed said grimly. 'Time for lunch, I'm sure. Let's get moving. I'm hungry again.'

The afternoon dragged by on sluggish legs. Waiting was always the worst part. Weapons had been distributed. Everyone was issued with a large shoulder-slung canvas holdall, packed with deadly material.

'I'll take a machine-pistol and extra ammo,' Paula said at one point to Newman.

'You've got your Browning and loads in the holdall.'

'Have you lost your memory, Bob? I used a machine-pistol back at Schluchsee to take out three thugs emerging from a side door of that Psycho Psycho house.' house.'

Paula was given her machine-pistol. Unloading it, she went outside to practise, to get the feel of it again. In the late afternoon it was still a brilliantly sunny day. Tweed and Newman joined her, strolled across the flatlands.

Without warning a low-flying light aircraft appeared from the direction of the Channel. It swooped low over them, circled as Tweed looked up. Marler came running out, gripping his Armalite. The plane flew off inland, vanished.

'You think it was them?' Newman asked.

'I'm sure it was,' Tweed replied. 'Lucky you weren't up the tree, Marler, and that the mobile searchlights are hidden in a barn. So it won't help them - the fact that the pa.s.senger had a camera. I suggest we keep under cover inside the farmhouse.'

Night came suddenly like a black menace. Inside the farmhouse Mrs C. served supper at six o'clock. To her disappointment they ate only half of what was on their plates, except for Paula, who was famished again. By now they had all been issued with mobile phones which would be worn slung from their necks. The mobiles had special amplifiers, so everyone would hear what was said no matter how much noise was generated by weapon fire. The amplifiers had been designed by the boffins in the bas.e.m.e.nt at Park Crescent weeks before.

'Don't forget,' Newman warned, 'that the whole perimeter is split up into sectors A, B, C, D, E, F and G.'

'That's the third time you've told us that,' Paula complained.

'I want you to remember it,' Newman told her.

'We ought to have had music to see us through the evening,' said Marler.

'What would you have suggested?' enquired Newman.

'The end of the 1812 Overture 1812 Overture. The crash of the guns.' 'I don't think that's funny,' snapped Paula.

'Wasn't meant to be,' Marler rapped back.

Tweed again checked his watch. He pursed his lips, glanced at everyone round the table.

'That's the fifth time you've checked the time,' said Paula.

'Who's counting?' Newman snapped back.

'I am.'

'It's nine o'clock,' Tweed said in a bored voice.

He had just spoken when Mike, one of Alf's Gulf War veterans, got up from the table. He put on a short sheepskin coat. His night gla.s.ses were slung round his neck.

'Time I went up that tree. It is the observation point. Come and haul me up to heaven.'

Newman and Marler stood up, accompanied Mike outside. Paula, on edge, frowned.

'He'll freeze to death up that tree. It's too early.

'Never too early,' said Alf, who rarely spoke. 'And he'll be all right. Once trained for three months in the Arctic.'

'I could put the radio on,' Mrs C. said brightly. 'That is, if anyone wants it on.'

No one wanted the radio. The silence was oppressive. But the radio squawking away would be even more irksome. Tweed again checked his watch. Paula bit her lip to stop herself protesting. With Tweed it was not nerves - he was probably the coolest person sitting at the table. But he knew how time could suddenly flash by.

Paula got up, went outside. The moon was high and brilliant she was thankful to see. They would need its pallid light to detect signs of movement. She took a deep breath, almost felt giddy. The temperature had dropped below zero. She hurried inside again.

'What is it like out there?' Tweed asked casually. 'I know I could find out for myself, but why should both of us freeze?' he asked humorously.

'It's G.o.d-awful cold. But the moon is up and casting plenty of light.'

'Couldn't be better. Just what I ordered from the weather man.'

'Any more coffee for anyone?' asked Mrs C.

'Have some, Paula,' Newman urged. 'Keep you alert.' 'For your information, Mr Newman, I have never felt more alert.'

'Suit yourself.'

'That's exactly what I propose to do. Thank you, Mrs Carson, but I've had enough for now.'

'It's fairly near ten o'clock,' Tweed announced, after checking his watch. 'Bob, could you describe again - for everyone's benefit - the small advanced landing craft your American friend showed you when you visited that naval base in the States six months ago?'

'Very hush-hush,' Newman began. 'Had to sign a doc.u.ment that under no circ.u.mstances would I publish anything. These vessels, for use by the SEALs, are about the size of a small country bus - but they have no roof. They're amphibious, very stable on water. But also when they reach land huge wheels like snow tyres project underneath the craft. Driver just pulls a lever. On land they can move at about forty miles an hour.'

'How many occupants?' asked Tweed.

'Maximum of ten SEALs per craft. Three doors on either side - so they can get out fast. On land the powerful engine makes a gentle purring sound.'

'We have to call them something,' Tweed said. He gazed into s.p.a.ce. 'Got it. Something that's at home in water and on land. Crabs. That's what we'll call them.' He pressed a b.u.t.ton on his mobile. 'Tweed here. If the enemy has landing craft we're going to call them crabs.'

'What's that?' Mike's voice queried. 'Got it. Crabs. Like the name, matey.'

He came back on the line less than five minutes later. A cool voice. Everyone had switched on their mobiles.

'They're coming now. Enormous ruddy fleet. Stretches back miles down the Channel. Wait a minute.' At the table they all sat upright in silence. 'Now I can just make out a ruddy great aircraft carrier, big as a football pitch. Hang on, one warship well ahead is turning this way, belting towards the coast at a rate of knots. Hang on a mo.' Round the table they seemed to wait forever this time. A crackle on the mobiles. 'Looks like they're coming for us now. Lowering crabs over the side Hang on.'

'How many crabs?' asked Tweed.

'Three in the sea now. I think that's it. Three crabs coming.'

'I suggest we all take up battle positions now,' said Tweed. 'Do not forget my earlier order. No one opens fire until - or unless - they start shooting at us, or try to break through the wired hedge. I want to be able to say later they opened hostilities first.'

'Matey, another crab lowered,' Mike warned. 'Following the first three heading for the sh.o.r.e now. Fast.'

'That's forty men,' Tweed said coldly. 'We're outnumbered. So the first shot they fire, we all open up. When we see a target.'

'Matey, another crab lowered over the side. Now following the others.'

'Fifty men, then,' Tweed said. 'Same instruction as before.

51.

Paula was first outside. She had slipped on her warm coat earlier while Mike was still talking. She wore surgical gloves. They'd keep out a bit of the cold, but she needed flexible fingers to press triggers. Over one shoulder hung her shoulder bag with her Browning inside, over the other was looped the heavy canvas holdall. She'd grabbed her machine-pistol and extra ammo off a couch.

Mrs C. followed her. She had the same equipment. She caught up with Paula and chuckled, brandishing her weapon. 'Used this to shoot rabbits. They were overrunning us. Men are bigger than rabbits. We're both Sector A.'

'Centre of the hedge where they'll probably attack,' Paula replied drily. 'Some kind of a compliment, I suppose.'

'I'll be with you,' said Newman as he joined them. 'Paula, you take A. You took your searchlight out there earlier?'

'Of course.'

They walked quickly across the flat earth, but refrained from running. With what they were carrying that could be fatal. Paula had lost her edginess. She was now cool, determined, alert. In the moonlight they could see the distant hedge they were advancing towards clearly. It had a blurred look at night, more like a wall. Paula revelled in the ice-cold air. It had become stuffy inside the farmhouse.

To their left and right shadowy silhouettes of men moving quickly were ahead of them. Alf's mob were swift on their feet. Hunched forward with the weights they were carrying, they reminded Paula of the opening scene in Silas Marner Silas Marner. There a shadowy figure moving through the night had been laden down.