Then I saw movement again. It was the man in the policeman's uniform but this time I noticed the dark hair and the mustache and the tall, square build. It was Jupiter.
The foreign ministers' meeting was back in session downstairs, and that damned weapon was aimed right at the windows of the conference room! Of course. Jupiter had no intention of trying to gain entrance to the Ministry building this time. He was going to make use of his excellent military training to strike from a distance.
I handed the glasses back to the spotter roughly. "Thanks," I said. I hurried over to Heather. "Get an identification of that building," I said, pointing. "Call Brutus and tell him that Jupiter is on the roof with a medium-distance weapon. Then go to the conference room and try to convince somebody to break it up. Another thing: Radio a helicopter to stand by in case Jupiter gets away. I'm going after him."
It was a hectic race on foot to the other building several blocks away. The sidewalks were jammed with pedestrians and I kept running into people. A cab almost knocked me down as I crossed a side street. At last I was there. The building turned out to be a hotel.
I waited an interminable time for an elevator and took it to the top floor. Then I raced to the stairs leading to the roof. I came out not twenty yards from Jupiter.
He was bending over his weapon, getting ready to fire it. Three wicked-looking rockets lay beside it. A rocket mortar. With three shells Jupiter couldn't help hitting the conference room. One properly aimed shell would destroy the room and everyone in it.
"Hold it!" I yelled, drawing Wilhelmina.
He whirled toward me. "You again!" he snarled. He pulled a Browning Parabellum automatic out of his belt and ducked behind the mortar. I flattened myself against the wall behind me as Jupiter fired. The slug chipped cement beside my head, showering me with a fine gray powder. I returned fire with the Luger and the slug clanged off the barrel of the mortar.
There was another service superstructure close to Jupiter. He pulled off another shot at me, missing widely, and raced for cover. I fired as he ran but missed, chipping the roof at his feet.
"It's all over, Jupiter," I yelled. "Give it up."
Jupiter leaned out from behind his cover and fired. This time the slug nicked my left arm, tearing a hole in my jacket. I grabbed the arm and swore.
Jupiter was back behind cover now. I started to circle, away from his line of vision. Moving carefully, I rounded the superstructure and there was Jupiter, not fifteen feet away.
Unfortunately, my foot scraped some gravel on the roof, and Jupiter heard me. He whirled and fired automatically, and I ducked back. I heard him running then and when I looked out around the corner, I saw him making for the mortar. He reached it, stuck his gun in his belt and picked up a rocket. The weapon was obviously already aimed.
I could not risk firing and not killing him. I shoved Wilhelmina into my belt and raced toward him. The rocket disappeared inside the cannon and I hit Jupiter and the weapon simultaneously. The mortar roared and the rocket flashed into the London sky, but I had knocked the barrel on an angle.
The rocket sizzled out over the city, missed the Ministry building completely and exploded in a small park area near it. In the moment I took to watch the rocket's progress, Jupiter smashed a fist into my face and twisted away from me. Then he was back on his feet. "Damn you. Carter!" He had the Browning out again and aimed at me. He fired and I rolled; the slug zinged harmlessly off the concrete edge of the roof behind me.
Jupiter did not try a second shot. A helicopter fluttered in and dropped down, hovering a few feet above the roof. I thought, gratefully, that it was the police chopper — until I saw the ladder being lowered for Jupiter. He was on it now and climbing; the helicopter was already moving away.
I fired but Jupiter was already scrambling inside the cabin and I missed.
Looking out over the rooftops, I saw another 'copter moving toward me. I fired a shot and waved it down. This one did belong to the police. It hovered a moment, then dropped to the roof. I ran over, ducking under the whirling blades, the wind they stirred tugging at me.
There was the pilot and Heather inside. I jumped in and pointed to the departed chopper, heading southwest out of town. "Follow it," I said.
We lifted off the roof and made a banking turn, heading out after Jupiter. We were flying into a setting sun and his 'copter was silhouetted against a peach-colored sky.
Our speed increased and, as we moved into open country we closed in on the other copter. The pilot had radioed back to the Yard about what was happening, but I knew it would probably all be up to us.
We were within a hundred yards of the other 'copter and I aimed the Luger, wishing I had a rifle, and fired a couple of shots. I hit the 'copter but I didn't do any damage. I could see Jupiter and the pilot clearly.
The sun had almost set now. If night fell before we caught them, they would be able to lose us easily. I turned to the pilot.
"Open it up!" I yelled.
The distance closed a little more. We were a long way from London now, heading in the direction of Andover. A thatched-roof village passed below us and we drew a little closer; the distance between us was not much more than fifty yards. I leaned out and fired again. This time I hit the gas tank but the fuel did not ignite it. It would leak out though. I expected Jupiter to return fire, but for some reason he didn't. Maybe he was conserving ammo.
"He'll have to land now, sir," my pilot said.
"Let's hope so."
The pilot was right. In a minute, Jupiter's 'copter started down toward a small village below. We followed. They landed in a field on the outskirts of the village beside a commercial building that turned out to be a motorcycle garage.
"Set us down," I told my pilot. "But don't give him a good shot at us — he's an expert."
Jupiter's 'copter was down and he was climbing out. We set down about sixty yards away. I was reloading the Luger, but my pilot cut the engine and jumped to the ground impatiently.
"Keep down!" I yelled at him.
But it was too late. Jupiter fired and hit him in the chest, twisting him violently off his feet. By the time I reached the ground, Jupiter was heading toward a half-dozen motocycles sitting outside the garage. I examined the pilot's wound; it was bad but he would live if he got help in time. I ordered Heather to stay with him, then jumped to my feet.
I started running in a crouch toward the garage where Jupiter was mounting a cycle. I was so intent on catching up with him I forgot about his chopper pilot until a slug whistled past my ear. I spotted the man then, returned fire with Wilhelmina and hit him. He staggered backward and fell; he didn't get up.
I kept running. Jupiter had started the cycle and was turning it toward the road fronting the place.
I stopped, rested Wilhelmina on my forearm and fired, but Jupiter was roaring off down the road. He was riding a BSA Victor Special 441, with the long narrow seat and the gas tank up between seat and handlebars. I figured it had a top speed of eighty miles an hour.
I moved quickly to a man standing, pale and shaken, just inside the garage. "Police," I said because it was easiest "What do you have here that will beat that Victor?"
He pointed to a big old bike, long and heavy; it was a 1958 Ariel 4G Square Four.
"Take the Squariel," he said. "It's an old timer but it has fifty horsepower, four speeds and will hit almost a hundred."
"Thanks," T said. I moved to the machine and climbed on. I started it with a hard kick. As the engine roared, I shouted to the garage man: "I'll settle later. Get a doctor for my friend in the field. The other one doesn't need help."