'No, she doesn't,' Noel rapped back. 'She takes it next door and dumps it on Coral Flenton.'
'Are you contradicting me?' Nelson asked, leaning forward, his eyes glittering viciously. 'You're not totally indispensable, you know.'
'Lost my cool,' Noel said, recovering control. 'Apologies to you, to both of you. Just back from France. I guess I'm tired.'
'So how did it go in France?' Nelson asked, sneering.
'Partly OK, partly not. You can't win everything.'
'And would this,' Benton asked gently, 'be some of the partly not?'
He pushed across the table the Drew Franklin column he'd cut out of the paper. Noel read it again, as though for the first time. He nodded.
'Someone else handled that. They were going to be the core of our special squad.' He smiled engagingly. 'The OK part is Radek is over here. He's brilliant. Tough as granite but with a subtle brain.'
'You'd better exercise tight control over him,' Benton suggested. 'I've heard of his reputation.'
'Situations on the Continent are different from over here.'
Noel had regained his confidence. Time to assert his position. He smiled at the other two. Then he spoke emphatically to get his message across.
'I should have said things used to be different on the Continent. Look at what happened last night. To all of us, including you, Benton. We were leaving the building when we were savagely attacked with tear-gas bombs, which put us in hospital. Who do you think was responsible? Tweed, of course. So now we pay back. Ruin Tweed's reputation for ever. Then deal rather more brutally with the rest of his team. Put them out of action. At the least into hospital for a long time. Maybe more if they fight back. Agreed?' 'I think you're right,' said Nelson. 'Go ahead.'
23
Tweed was known in security circles for his remarkable intuition, his ability to foresee what the enemy's next move would be. He had just listened to Marler's tear-gas exploit with Harry. Later Marler had checked the hospitals, had found the whole Cabal was undergoing medical treatment.
'The battle between us and the enemy will accelerate. I'm sure they won't take what they suffered lying down. We must prepare for a no-holds-barred counter-attack. So it's vital we strike first. I want those three compromised so they're thrown out of their positions. Marler, Newman, work out a strategy. I'm still trying to track down who slaughtered Viola.'
'I suggest,' said Paula, 'that I visit Coral this evening, turn her inside out. A woman with another woman can often do that better than a man. No criticism of you, Pete.'
'Do it,' agreed Tweed. 'Try to find out more about Viola. What we need is information.'
'What about me?' asked Nield.
'And me?' growled Harry.
'I want you both to guard Paula. Keep in the background so Coral never sees you. I have a feeling Paula could become a major target.'
'So could you,' Harry growled again.
Paula jumped up, operated a lever. Outside the large windows steel blinds were lowered at a slanting angle. They had been designed to ward off explosive grenades.
'Now we're safer,' she said.
'I should have thought of that before,' admitted Newman. 'I also think George downstairs should be armed. Heaven knows he can handle a gun. He was in the infantry.'
'Agreed,' said Tweed. 'Now I'm going to contact Benton. I'm curious as to why he wanted to see me while I was away.'
An hour later Noel, his head covered with an old peaked cap, his clothes shabby, his shoes down at heel, was inside the warehouse. He stood in the large empty room with Fitch and Radek.
'It's open warfare against Tweed and his whole team,' he said, using language he'd have toned down back in Whitehall. 'The key figures are Tweed and his tart, Paula.'
'Kill them?' suggested Fitch.
'I have a better idea,' interjected Radek. His accent was pronounced, his command of English perfect. 'We drive both out of their minds. They end up insane permanently. That will scare the rest of the team stiff. They'll be leaderless.'
'An original idea,' Noel agreed with a sadistic smile. 'I like it. But how are you going to do that?'
Radek opened the large case he had brought with him. He took out a number of viewing screens, four projectors. He attached a screen with nails to each of the four wooden walls. His eyes gleamed as he turned round.
'This way whichever way they look they can't avoid what will appear. We need iron rings inserted into the floor. Tweed and this Paula will be tied to the rings. It should take an hour or so before they go out of their minds.'
'I still don't see it,' protested Noel.
'You will. You may feel queasy after only a short demonstration but that will wear off. Better take these earplugs or you'll go deaf.'
He set up the projectors so that each screen had one projected on it. Then he lifted out another machine, laid it on the floor behind them. They watched as he inserted film then, lighting a torch, switched off the overhead lights.
Noel was beginning to get nervous. What fiendish apparatus was Radek setting up? Radek noticed his nervousness when he suddenly swung the powerful torch beam straight into Noel's face.
'Turn that bloody thing away from me,' shouted Noel.
Radek grinned. He loved to see a man breaking down. It was one of the pleasures of life. He shone the beam on the projectors, bent down, pressed four buttons, switched off his torch. He stood up to enjoy himself, slipping the earplugs in place.
Each of the four screens began showing moving pictures. Noel gazed, eyes glued to what was showing. Up in the mountains somewhere. Snow on the ground. Thick wooden posts with a man tied to each, wearing hardly any clothes. By each post a man holding a huge axe began swinging it. Noel stared, his face taut.
The first post attracted his attention. The man swinging the axe brought it down in a sweep, sliced off a foot above the ankle. Blood spurted. The axe was raised and brought down again. The second foot was severed. The prisoner's mouth was wide open, doubtless in an unheard scream of terror. The axe was hoisted again, brought down on the prisoner's right shoulder, severing half the shoulder and the arm.
Noel forced himself to glance at another screen. A similar scene, but the axe held by another man descended on top of the prisoner's head, splitting the skull in two down to the neck.
Radek felt for the knob on the other machine, turned it on, his grin even more sadistic. Fitch had earlier inserted his earplugs. Noel had omitted to do this. A diabolical sound filled the warehouse room.
Desperately Noel jammed the plugs into his ears, fumbling one, so he was still subjected to the noise from hell. He rammed the second earplug in place, heaved out a deep breath.
The room had now gone crazy. The bestial pictures. The penetrating screech, rising and falling non-stop. Noel could hear it even with the plugs in place. He looked at Fitch, seated on the floor, staring at one screen, then another.
Noel saw no point in staying in the warehouse any longer. He knew now how Radek was going to operate on Tweed and on Paula. He shouted at Radek to switch on some light. The Slovak turned on his torch, aimed it at the door he guessed Noel would head for, which he did.
Radek was amused as Noel walked quickly, opened the door, disappeared, pulling the door shut behind himself. Not a man for the High Tatra, Radek said to himself. He saw no point in telling Noel he had given him less effective earplugs than those he'd handed to the motionless Fitch. He leant down, pressed the buttons. The screens went blank.
'Think what one hour of this would do to Tweed and Paula,' he told Fitch, who had removed his plugs. 'Two once normal people, now insane. Spending the rest of their lives in an asylum.'
24