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Walmsley seemed to have lost any humour that might have lurked behind his cold blue eyes. 'I believe they call him that. You gol anyone in Gib?'
'Let me check it out sir. If the answer's yes, I'll see he's brought back.'
'Let me know before take-off. You only have twenty minutes.'
It took Bond fifteen minutes to make contaci. Yes, they had an interrogation specialist with the unlikely name, for his skills, of Donald Speaker who would be delighted ni have a go.
So it was that when Flight BA498 landed, slightly lale, al two o'clock lhat afternoon, the Sea King from Invincible was sitting, juiced up. on the helipad away from the terminal building. Its crew of Ihree were aboard, plus Donald Speaker, a red-bearded, casually-dressed little man with the sharp look of a bank inspector about him.
The Lieutenant Commander from Invincible's Executive Officer's staff waited in the arrivals' terminal - which, in Gibraltar, is also the departure terminal. He did nol notice that one pa.s.senger from BA498 came through the gates, lugging his flight-bag, and made slraight for the Men's Room: while a few seconds later another man came out. carrying the same flight-bag, and with his pa.s.sport in his left hand, held over his breast pocket. To the Lieutenanl Commander this was simply [he man for whom he had been waiting, giving all the signals -bag in righl hand, pa.s.sport in left hand, held high just under his breast pocket where his boarding card stuck out almost a couple of inches.
The Lieutenant Commander smiled and approached the civilian. 'Mr Woodward?'
'Yes, I'm Dan Woodward,' said Abou Hamarik. 'Want to see the ID?'
'Better take a quick shufti. My name's Hallam. by the way.' the Lieutenant Commander grinned. 'Your diplomatic status stamp looks d.a.m.ned impressive. Well, welcome aboard Mr Woodward.'
'Jusi call me Dan.'
They crossed the metalled ap.r.o.n, walking quickly towards the Sea King. As they did so they saw the stop lights come on, and traffic grind to a halt on the road that ran straight across the runway. A Royal Air Force Tornado came hurtling in with its droops and spoilers fully extended. Their ears sang but cleared by the time they reached the Sea King. The crewman helped them up. and Hallam introduced him to everyone. Speaker just gave him a nod, as though he did not approve of Americans being given free rides on Royal Navy helicopters.
'Great,' Hallam said, just before the rotors began to turn. 'We'll be back in very good time for Stewards' Meeting.'
'What's Stewards' Meeting?' Speaker asked. He had a slight, unidentifiable acccnl, and a suspicious nasal tone in his voice.
'I'm sorry,' Hallam turned to him with a smile. "If you don't know what it is, you're not cleared for it. Righl, Dan?'
'Most definitely right,' Abou Hamarik said. Soon, he though!, ihe whole world will know about Stewards' Meeting. And there will be things the whole world will not wish to know.
The Sea King rose from the pad, lowered its nose, turned away from the Spanish mainland, banked and set course out to sea and HMS Invincible.
14.
Stewards' Meeting
'D'you hear there! D'you hear there! This is the Captain.' Sir John Walmsley's voice rang out through the s.h.i.+p's Tannoy system, and. as ever, all ranks stopped what they were doing and raised their heads to listen.
Invincible had slowed down to a point where she was hardly moving in the light sea. Outside, at 22.00 hours, it was black as pitch, but the flight-deck was fully lit and an S and R Sea King hovered off the port side.
'I want all ranks to listen out, and listen carefully. We still have the submarine wolf pack with us. though I am a.s.sured that they will in no way impede our progress to Gibraltar. Regarding Exercise Landsea '89 there is a political stalemate, and talks between various countries will restart tomorrow morning. So far no further incidents have been reported within the boundaries of the European continent, though our forces - Red Side - are still known to be operating behind enemy lines. That is the report. and a.s.sessment, with regard to Landsea '89.
'Now I must talk seriously about the real world, and what is happening aboard Invincible tonight. I am standing down all watches at this moment, except for officers and ratings who have been given special instructions to be present on (he main deck, Flighl Operations, and the bridge. This is for security purposes, and anyone not ordered to be on the main deck, in Flighl Operations, or on the bridge will meei with stiff penalties if found there. In fact they could well suffer injury. Marines have been posted on all companion-ways and bulkheads leading to the prohibited areas. They are armed and there is a pa.s.sword sequence known only to those authorised to work on the main deck.
'You will hear helicopters landing and taking off. This is because the VIP officers we've had aboard, since Landsea '89 began, will be taking their leave of us. However, other VIPs will be coming aboard, and this is now cla.s.sified information. Until you're informed of its decla.s.sincation. no officer. Petty Officer, Warrant Officer, rating or marine will speak of anything seen aboard Invincible over the next few days. If anyone does talk, outside this s.h.i.+p, 1 should remind you that to do so will be regarded as a breach of the Official Secrets Act; punishable accordingly.
To underline the seriousness of this situation, you should know that, until we reach Gibraltar, there will be four Sea Harriers, fully armed and ready to fly, on and around the ski-ramp, for'ard. There will be two pilots from the Air Group at five minute readiness, twenty-four hours a day, starting now. That is all.'
In Flight Operations, Bond could see that was not all. for the first two Sea Harriers were not only in place but also had pilots in the c.o.c.kpits and their engines on at idle. Apart from that, there was a sense of deja vu in the lights flas.h.i.+ng from three helicopters stacked, one behind the other, closing on the stem. The cloud cover was high so he could only see the red and green rotating lights against the darkness. But he knew, from the Commander (Air), that the first chopper was about one mile away, closing at a speed of around fifty knots; and the other two were stacked at one thousand feet intervals.
The Sea King was visible now. a shaft of light coming from its nose as the halogen spot came on. It closed, then hovered as the Flight-Deck Controller and his men signalled it in to land some hundred yards behind the pair of back-up Sea Harriers, parked together well behind the ski-ramp.
n.o.body approached the Sea King as its rotors gently slowed down. They were still whisking the air as the US Navy helicopter rolled in behind it, followed by the big. twin-finned Kamov-25 which nosed onto the deck with its two huge contra-rotating rotors whirling fast and its turbines giving a final dying roar.
Bond just caught a glimpse of the three VIP officers, the British, American and Russian Admirals, being hustled towards their respective helicopters. Then the main deck lights went out, leaving only dim blue guiding lights leading from the helicopters to the main bulkhead doors in the island.
'Time you joined the reception committee. Captain Bond.' The Commander glanced towards him. Bond nodded and with a 'Good luck!' left Flight Ops, turning his body sideways, ratiling down the companion-way, heading towards the section of cabins recently vacated by the trio of Admirals and (heir bodyguards.
In the hour that had pa.s.sed since he had last been in this part of the s.h.i.+p, a great deal had taken place. The pa.s.sageway floors were now covered in thick red carpeting, and three sections of the long corridor, which led from James Bond's cabin to the turning into the Wrens' quarters, had been separated by neat wooden doors, the jambs screwed into bulkhead cross-sections.
The doors were open, and he could see right down to the end, where the entire draft of Wrens were drawn up. with Clover Pennington pacing anxiously. In the middle portion, (he new Naval Intelligence man. Woodward, was accompanied by two armed marines. Woodward gave Bond a wink, lifting his right hand and following with a ihumbs-up, to which Bond replied in kind. Through the door nearest to him Nikki Ratnikov and Yevgeny Stura were also accompanied by two Royal Marines, while another pair, with Sergeant Harvey in tow. waited patiently to one side of'Bond's cabin door.
Bond nodded to the sergeant. 'Any minute now.' he said, and the words were hardly out of his mouth when he heard the sounds of feet on the uncarpcted section of the pa.s.sageway leading to the spruced up VIP quarters.
They came al a brisk pace: Rear-Admiral Sir John Walmsley. Ted Brinkley and a civilian who could only be from one service, for he had all the smooth and tough, alert looks of an officer of the Special Branch Close Protection Squad. At the centre of this group. Bond saw the first of the VIPs who had come aboard from the helicopter which had picked up Sir Geoffrey Gould.
The Rear-Admiral stopped in front of Bond. 'Prime Minister,' he said to the almost regally dressed Mrs Margaret Hilda Thatcher. 'I'd like to present Captain James Bond, who is in total charge of security for Stewards' Meeting.'
The Prime Minister smiled and firmly shook Bond's hand. 'It's nice to see you again, and congratulations on your promotion.' She turned to Walmsley. 'Captain Bond and I are already old friends,' she said. 'I couldn't have better protection, and it's not generally known that Captain Bond was instrumental in saving not only my life, but that of ex-President Reagan, some lime ago.' Then back to Bond. couldn't be in better hands. Just see that we're left alone for a full four days, Captain Bond. We shall need every minute of it. if we're going to get through a tough agenda- And it is a very tough, and important agenda. I'm sure you are already aware of lhat.'
'Yes. Prime Minister. I'll do everything possible. If your people, require anything, they should get in touch with me personally.'
'Very kind of you. Captain Bond,' and with her best electorial smile, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom marched away with her retinue.
Bond's eyes followed her, and he ignored Sergeant Harvey's muttered. 'I wouldn't like to be on her defaulters' parade.'
From the far end of the pa.s.sageway, he heard the Rear-Admiral introduce the PM to First Officer Pennington, and then make his excuses.
He came striding back, glaring at Bond. 'You said nothing about saving her life! Anything else I should know?'
'She exaggerated,' Bond did not smile. "The information's restricted anyhow, so I shouldn't let it go any further, sir.'
'Hrrumph!' Walmsley said - or something very like it - and went off to meet the next arrival.
President George Herbert Walker Bush, surrounded by his Secret Service men - Joe Israel, Stan Hare and Bruce Trimble - and with a small man carrying a briefcase chained to his wrist, had been met at the foot of the companion-way by Walmsley. The President was tall, smiling, greying and very open-faced.
'Captain Bond.' he acknowledged as the Rear-Admiral made the introduction, 'I know I'm in good hands. A close friend of mine told me what a help you'd been to him. and I believe we have another friend in common."
'We probably have, sir.'
'Yes. Felix served under me when I was DCIA. A good man. Hope to see more of you. Bond, but you'll appreciate the schedule's tight as a drumskin. Good to meet you.'
The President of the United States had a firm handshake, almost as firm as Mrs Thatcher's, and. as he walked away, Sergeant Harvey muttered, 'Nor his.'
'Nor his what?' Bond said out of the corner of his mouth.
'Wouldn't like to be on his defaulters' parade either.'
'If you were, they'd call it a masthead. Sergeant Harvey. That's what the US Navy call defaulters - just as the Royal Navy did a long time ago.'
Sir John Walmsley gave Bond another dirty look as he hurried past, again heading for the companion-way and the final VIP.
Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev. General Secretary of the CPSU and President of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet was dressed in a camel-hair overcoat that he had not bought at GUM. He held a grey felt hat. which could have been purchased at Lock's in Jermyn Street, and wore a broad smile. He was neat, burly, broad-shouldered, and relaxed, thanks to all the goodwill that seemed to flow out of him.
Watmsley introduced them, and. to Bond's surprise, Mr Gorbachev replied in English, 'Captain Bond, it is a great pleasure to meet you. I hope you mingle with those who look after me in a true spirit of glasnost.' The short man's handshake was positively bone-crus.h.i.+ng and left Bond speechless as the Russian pa.s.sed on towards his quarters.
'Ho dear, sir.' Harvey whispered. -He hasn't brought Raisa with him. Hope he's got an Amex card as well.'
'Be fair, Harvey. The Prez hasn't brought Barbara, and Mrs T's without Denis. It's reasonable enough.'
Walmsley returned, looking fl.u.s.tered. 'Well, at least one of them didn't seem to know you. Bond.'
'I wouldn't bet on it, sir.'
'No. well ... All senior officers, divisional officers and the Chief Regulating Officer in my day cabin in fifteen minutes. We're not using the PA to warn you, so tell me now if you're happy about arrangements - I mean happy enough to leave this section of the s.h.i.+p for an hour or so.'
Til be there, sir. if I'm at all concerned, I'll let you know, personally, and give you my reasons.'
The Rear-Admiral gave a curt nod and left, his long, important strides indicating that he was well pleased with the final transfer of probably the three most powerful people in the world to his s.h.i.+p.
Bond thought this was one h.e.l.l of a responsibility, and Walmsley should not show any c.o.c.kiness until it was all safely over.
Petty Officer 'Blackie' Blackstone looked at the great turbines whining strongly in the Engine Room of Invincible. When he had first joined the Royal Navy, the Engine Rooms were hot, dirty, sweaty and noisy places, htvincible's Engine Room was brilliantly clean, and only a few people were actually needed close to the turbines, for they were monitored from a separate room, full of dials, VDUs and switches.
Blackstone was probably the only man on Invincible, outside the Captain, senior officers and security people, who knew what was going on. He did not question how his two 'friends' Harry and Bill had got hold of the information, nor did he have any moral qualms about what he was to do. After all. it would get him off the hook, both financially and domestically. In any case, they had told him it was really a Greenpeace operation, limed to cause great embarra.s.sment to the Americans and Russians, also to the British Establishment, and 'Blackie' had always had a lot of sympathy for Greenpeace.
He had thought for a long time about the job, but once he weighed the positive and negative sides, he realised there was no real danger.
'Blackie' had gone to a lot of trouble in arranging his s.h.i.+fts. The first one just after these n.o.bs come aboard, they had told him. Then the second one would require action in the middle of the following forenoon. 'Blackie' Blackstone would have access to the turbines on both required s.h.i.+fts. He had seen to that, just as he knew the other men on the watch were content to let him do the physical check on the turbines. Even now, just after the visitors had arrived on board, he was alone in the Engine Room, while a Chief Petty Officer, another Petty Officer, like himself, and a "Killick" - a Leading Seaman, so called because of the anchor-badge he wore: killick being the old slang term for anchor - lounged their way through the watch, occasionally checking the pressures and speeds of the turbines.
The Second Engineering Officer was, as ever, in the officers' caboose, just behind the control room. n.o.body would require him unless something went terribly wrong. Changes of speed, and other such things could be accomplished at the touch of a buiton, or a couple of clicks im the small levers which acted as throttles. So the Lieutenant who was the Second Engineering Officer was left to do a little 'Egyptian Physical Training' as they called it. In other words, the Lieutenant was sleeping.
Petty Officer Blackstone tjuielly moved to the far side of Number One Turbine. He pulled a screwdriver from a leather toolkit attached to his belt, and tucked away behind his right hip. He then removed a cylinder, wrapped in Kleenex, from his pocket. The cylinder, which was made of strong wire gauze, had an opening at one end and was rounded at the other. Anyone, from Mids.h.i.+pman to Ordinary Seaman, could have identified the cylinder, us a straightforward filter for the turbine's oil system.
Blacksione quickly unscrewed the two lugs that held down a small panel, roughly six inches by six, and lifted it on its hinge. Above the panel the words Filter One were stencilled.
Ouietly, he placed the screwdriver on Ihe deck, by his feet. and took an abnormally long pair of tweezers from the toolkit on his belt, at the same time gathering another wodge of Kleenex into his left hand. Gently, Petty Officer Blackstone inserted the tweezers into the open panel of Filter One, extracting the identical heavy, dirty, gauze cylinder from within - though this one was hot and dripphig with oil. He placed it into the wodgc of Kleenex and put it carefully on the deck, beside the screwdriver. It would take three minutes for any sign of the change to be registered on the instruments in the control room, and it took less than thirty seconds to slide the new filter into place, and another minute to close the panel and strew the lugs back in place.
Blackstone next returned the screwdriver and tweezers to his toolkil. picked up the bunched Kleenex which held the recently removed filter, and made his way through the bulkhead door, aft and leading to the Engine Room heads.
There he unbolted one of the ports, opened it up and hurled the filter and Kleenex out to be whipped away by the wind. He closed up the round port, washed his hands, clearing away all traces of oil, and returned to the Engine Room, casually walking around all the turbines, taking his time before returning to the Control Room.
'They all still running, Blackie?' the CPO asked with a grin.
'Difficult to say. Chiefy. I went and had a smoke in the heads.'
'You jammy b.u.g.g.e.r,' the other Petty Officer said. 'I was just telling them about how you sloped off that time when we last docked in Gib. She was a corker, wasn't she? Black-haired beauty, that one.'
'You're full of s.h.i.+t,' said Blackie, and the conversation continued on this high intellectual plane for the next hour or so.
The turbines all ran smoothly, but Blackie knew that it wouldn't be smooth running at about eleven in the forenoon tomorrow. For one thing, the oil temperature on Number One turbine would start to rise spectacularly, and he would be there to deal with it.
'Gentlemen. thank you for your time. I'll be as quick as possible; though it's essential that you all know exactly what's at stake here.' Sir John Walmsley was full of himself: sitting back in his chair in the crowded day cabin, with all his senior officers around him. he almost overflowed with his own responsibility. Bond viewed the man with pity rather than awe. Walmsley was a pompous a.s.s, full of self-importance, and, therefore, from Bond's viewpoint, not really suitable for the job he had to do. 'Now, Stewards' Meeting. This is a very clear name for what is happening aboard Invincible.'
The Rear-Admiral cleared his throat and continued. 'You all know who's on board. The three most powerful heads of state in the world, and they sec themselves attending a real Stewards' Meeting, for they regard themselves as [rue Stewards. Stewards in whom the world puts its trust. Two men and a woman who can truly hold the world in their hands.' This, Bond concluded, was going to be a sermon, not a briefing. Nor would it be a sermon to the wholly converted.
Walmsley was still talking. 'You'll also realise one important factor. They are all here with close protection squads but wiihout their normal advisers - apart from the sinister bagman, with President Bush, who is required to have the nuclear alert codes wiih him at all times."
He paused, as though pleased with his own knowledge and the ability for him to share it. Then he continued. 'As some of you already know, they are here under highly cla.s.sified code names. The PM is Shalott - Lady of, 1 presume, not just because she knows her onions.' He paused again for the obligatory chuckle to pa.s.s around the room. 'The President of the United States is Dancer; and Secretary Gorbachev is October. You will refer to them by those names, both in conversation and any radio messages you might be called upon to give. But, as 1 have said, the one unique thing is that they're here with no advisers, or a.s.sistants. As far as their colleagues are concerned, Shalott has a touch of the 'flu; October is resting in his country dacha, and has left orders that he should not be disturbed for five days; Dancer has requested no Press, and no calls to his hunting-lodge where he is quail-shooting.'
Again he waited for a laugh, but the jest was. if not dying, at least fatally ill. The point is that all three chose to meet in secure conditions so that they could carry out four whole days of highly personal, one-on-one - or, I suppose it could be one-im-two - talks without the usual interference from the throngs oi experts from both governmeni, military, financial and social levels who often advise more caution over sensitive issues.
There will be no official statements regarding Stewards' Meeting. n.o.body is to know, unless they feel they have accomplished some incredible breakthrough that can be announced. Their main objective is to set some ground rules on world finance, security against terrorism, and the acceleration of solving that th.o.r.n.y question regarding the quick phasing out of nuclear weapons.
'Our job is to see they have the next four days to themselves. They will be eating and working together in ihe forward lecture room, which has been made more presentable than usual. So, with the help of the Wren detachmenl to see they get decent food, and good service, and the a.s.sistance of security, they will be following a very tight schedule which, even in the midst of Landsea '89, we must see is adhered to. They have got to be given four whole days, no matter what. If you have any questions come straight to me. Understand?'
Yes, Bond thought. Go straight to him. and he will pa.s.s you straight on to me. He left, went back lo his cabin and sent for Donald Speaker, the interrogator who had come in from Gibraltar with the new American, Woodward.
He had never met Speaker before, but knew his reputation as a hard investigator who rarely gave an inch, so it was, when the man came into his cabin and sat down without even being asked, that Bond took an almost irrational dislike to him.
If Speaker had made any progress with Deeley he was not going to tell Bond. In fact it was just the opposite, for, within minutes, he realised that the interrogator was asking questions of him.
'I don't altogether trust those two Branch men in fancy dress,' Speaker said of Brinklcy and Camm.
*Oh?'
'Not cut out for the kind of job (hey're doing on this s.h.i.+p. I'm highly dubious of their motives, Mr, er Captain, Bond.*
'Interesting, but what about Deeley?'
Til report when I have anything to report.'
The gingery beard. Bond decided, covered a weak chin. The man was, in a sense, hiding from himself. 'You have only a very limited lime. You realise that?'
"How so?'
'It becomes a non-Service matter, once we get to Gib. She has to be handed over to the Civil Police.'
"What are we, two days from Gib?'
'We're taking tour actually. For operational reasons which don't concern you.'
'Well,' the lips curled under the beard, 'well, that's plenty of time for me to whop some kind of story out of her. Don't worry.' He rose.