He staggered as his foot caught some projection in the ground; he fell flat, pulled himself up, his breath coming in agonizing bursts, his chest tight and heaving. On the road he saw headlights approaching fast from the direction of the airfield. It could be an Australian vehicle, and that thought gave him fresh hope. He put all he had into a burst of extra speed, ran straight for the road now. But the vehicle drove past before he could get there, and then it pulled up with a jerk near the ditched jeep. In the glare of the jeep’s headlights he saw the dark blue of the R.A.A.F. as an officer jumped from the truck.
He heard a ringing shout: “Hey! What the flamin’ hell’s going on around here?”
The shooting stopped, and a voice answered. “Our Commandant has been attacked. We are looking for the man, who was in this jeep…”
Shaw watched from the darkness as a MAPIACCIND man strode across to the Australian. Sounds from close by indicated to Shaw that other men were closing in on him now and he decided he had to take a chance. He thought for a moment of trying to reach the airfield while the talking was going on, but quickly realized, when a sudden renewal of the shooting sent a bullet zipping past his head, that he would never make it. His gun was empty now. He put his hands up, shouted out that he was surrendering, and then walked into the lights.
There was a shout and then two men ran for him, took his arms, marched him up to their officer. The MAPIACCIND man said, “You see, Squadron-Leader? Here is the man.”
The R.A.A.F. officer looked closely at Shaw as he was brought up. “That right?” he demanded. “Did you beat up the Commandant?”
“Yes. But I had a good reason. If you two,” he added to the men holding him, “will let go of my arms, I’ll produce my credentials to the Squadron-Leader—”
“You will not!” The MAPIACCIND official thrust himself between Shaw and the Australian, glowered. “This is a MAPIACCIND affair, and this officer has no authority to interfere.”
“Oh, is that so?” The airman’s rock-like face was flushed and stubborn now, a hard jaw stuck out. He said, “Look, you’re outside your area, in case you don’t know it. This is free Australian ground—”
“Our rights extend to the outer perimeter—”
“Agreed. Rights — but not exclusive territorial rights. You left those behind you, at the gates back there.” He waved a thick-wristed arm down the track, and the headlights glinted on the metal of a revolver in his hand. “You take my advice, you’ll let this bloke show his papers. I’ve just an idea who he is, and if you don’t let him prove it I’ve got blokes here who’ll see you bloody do!” He gestured back at his truck. In it, four Air Force police sat fingering automatic weapons.
The MAPIACCIND man glanced at them, scowled, muttered under his breath and then gave a reluctant order. Shaw was released, but the guns were pointing at him still. Calmly he reached for his wallet, brought out his red-and-green-panelled naval identity card, handed it to the Australian and waited.
The officer examined it, looked keenly at Shaw’s sweaty, dirt-streaked face, and nodded. He said, “Right. That’s what I thought. I reckon you’re just lucky, chum! We were coming to have a yarn with Commandant Mirskov about you, on orders just through from Sydney, but I reckon if we’d got to the gates before you beat it out of there, we wouldn’t have had a hope in hell of contacting you.” He turned threateningly on the MAPIACCIND officer. He said brusquely, “Go on, hop it. We’re taking this bloke in.”
“But I—”
“But nothing!” the Australian roared, his bottom lip jutting out. His voice carried strongly into the thin night air. “I told you, you aren’t in charge around here. Look, if you don’t beggar off fast, I’m gonna run you for using offensive weapons in Australian territory. Reckon I’ve had just about enough of you lot since that flamin’ Act was passed,” he added witheringly, “coming out here and acting as though you’re God Almighty. You go to blazes. And think yourselves lucky you haven’t got a bullet in the backside.” He slewed on his heel. “Into the truck, Commander.”
Shaw grinned. “Thanks!” He jumped in as the MAPIACCIND party glared at him impotently, noticed the pale, scared look of the Commandant’s A.D.C. The argument was carried on for a minute or so and then the Squadron-Leader climbed into the truck, which turned short round in the road and headed away for the airfield. Shaw sat back and relaxed. He said, “It’s a good thing you turned up just when you did.”
The airman grunted. “Those blokes, they get my goat. I love ’em just about as much as the devil loves a priest. So don’t thank me. It was a real pleasure.” He gave a great, gusty laugh. “My word, just to see that bastard’s face was worth a year’s pay!”
Five minutes later Shaw was in the Station Commander’s office making his brief and censored report. Shortly after, he was speaking on the phone to Captain James. He said, “I can’t explain the whole thing in detail just now, sir, but I’d like you to get in touch with London and Geneva at once. Tell them it’s vital that all MAPIACCIND countries should be told to throw-off their adaptors, or they’re going sky-high. And Commandant Mirskov should be arrested as soon as possible. Meanwhile I’m being given a plane and I’ll be at Kingsford Smith soon after daybreak.”
As Shaw banged down the phone, he heard the deep roar of powerful engines revving up outside the office window.
The reaction didn’t come until he was in the plane and roaring south and east for Sydney’s Kingsford Smith airport; and then it hit him suddenly and nearly knocked him sideways for a while. His stomach seemed a bath of acid that tore and bit at his guts, made him sick and giddy. The action temporarily suspended, he was a prey to all his nervous selfdoubts. He hadn’t really got very far ahead; he didn’t know where to start looking for Karstad, or for Lubin and that radio set of his, and the MAPIACCIND powers, he knew for certain, would react badly to the idea of any of their associates throwing-off the stockpile adaptors. As Latymer had so rightly said, they were a suspicious lot of bastards. There was still the whole game yet to play, and it had to be played in secrecy even now, for the world’s confidence in MAPIACCIND was all-important to the Agreement’s future.
Shaw’s eyes were stinging, sore and bloodshot as, in the dawn, the plane circled out of a cloudless sky to touch down at Kingsford Smith. As Shaw fastened the clip of his safety-belt his nerve-endings tingled with the thought of what yet lay ahead… this was one of the bad moments again, but it would pass all right. It would pass and he would come through, and all would be well, his mind would be alert and cool again.
It had better be.
The plane touched gently. A few moments later Shaw got out, feeling stiff and cold in spite of the climbing morning sun as he walked towards the barrier. Beyond, he saw a tall, angular figure in the blue uniform of the Women’s Royal Australian Naval Service.
The girl, who was no beauty but looked deadly efficient, watched his approach, asked impersonally as he came up: “Commander Shaw?”
He smiled tiredly. “That’s me.”
She said, “Captain James sent me. There’s a car outside. I’m Second Officer Harris. You’ll want to get to the office quickly, so let’s get moving, shall we?”