Chapter 4
Worth, enjoying a very early morning cup of tea, was in his living room with Larsen and Palermo when the radio operator knocked and entered, a message sheet in his hand. He handed it to Lord Worth and said: «For you, sir. But it's hi some sort of code. Do you have a code book?»
«No need.» Lord Worth smiled with some self-satisfaction, his first smile of any kind for quite some tune. «I invented this code myself.» He tapped his head. «Here's my code book.»
The operator left. The other two watched in mild anticipation as Lord Worth began to decode. The anticipation turned into apprehension as the smile disappeared from Lord Worth's face, and the apprehension gave way hi turn to deep concern as reddish-purple spots the size of pennies touched either cheekbone. He laid down the message sheet, took a deep breath, then proceeded to give a repeat performance—though this time more deeply felt, more impassioned— of the unparliamentary language he had used at the news of the loss of the Crusader. After some time he desisted, less because he had nothing fresh to say than from sheer loss of breath.
Larsen had more wit than to ask Lord Worth ft something were the matter. Instead he said in a quiet voice: «Suppose you tell us, Lord Worth?»
Lord Worth, with no little effort, composed himself and said: «It seems that Cor—» He broke off and corrected himself: it was one of his many axioms that the right hand shouldn't know what the left hand doeth. «I was informed—all too reliably, as it now appears— that a couple of countries hostile to us might well be prepared to use naval force against us. One, it appears, is already prepared to do so. A destroyer has just cleared its Venezuelan home port and is heading in what is approximately our direction.»
«They wouldn't dare,'* Palermo said.
«When people are power- and money-mad they'll stop at nothing.» It apparently never occurred to Lord Worth that his description of people applied, in excelsis, to himself.
«Who's the other power?» said Larsen.
«The Soviet Union.»
«Is it now?» Larsen seemed quite unmoved. «I don't know if I like the sound of that.»
«We could do without them.» Lord Worth was back on balance again. He flipped out a notebook and consulted it. «I think Til have a talk with Washington.» His hand was just reaching out for the phone when it rang. He lifted the instrument, at the same time turning the switch that cut the incoming call into the bulkhead speaker.
«Worth.»
A vaguely disembodied voice came through the speaker. «You know who I am?» Disembodied or not, the voice was known to Worth. Corral.
«Yes.»
Tve checked my contact, sir. Tm afraid our guesses were only too accurate. Both X and Y are willing to commit themselves to naval support.»
«I know. One of them has just moved out and appears to be heading in our general direction.»
«Which one?»
«The one to the south. Any talk of air commitment?»
«None that I've heard, sir. But I don't have to tell you that that doesn't rule out its use.»
Seawitch
«Let me know if there is any more good news.»
«Naturally. Goodbye, sir.»
Lord Worth replaced the instrument, then lifted it again.
«I want a number in Washington.»
«Can you hold a moment, sir?»
«Why?»
«There's another code message coming through. Looks like the same code as the last one, sir.»
«I shouldn't be surprised.» Lord Worth's tone was somber. «Bring it across as soon as possible.»
He replaced the phone, pressed a button on the small console before him, lifting the phone again as he did.
«Chambers?» Chambers was his senior pilot
«Sir?»
«Your chopper refueled?»
«Ready to go when you are, sir.»
«May be any second now. Stand by your phone.» He replaced the receiver.
Larsen said: «Washington beckons, sir?»
«I have the odd feeling that it's about to. There are things that one can achieve in person that one can't over the phone. Depends upon this next message.»
«If you go, anything to be done in your absence?»
«There'll be dual-purpose antiaircraft guns arriving aboard the Roamer this afternoon. Secure them to the platform.»
«To the north, south, east but not west?»
«As you wish.»
«We don't want to start blowing holes in our own oil tank.»
«There's that. There'll -eAso be mines. Three piles, each halfway between a pair of legs.»
«An underwater explosion from a mine wouldn't damage the legs?»
«I shouldn't think so. We'll just have to find out, won't we? Keep in constant half-hourly touch with both the Torbetto and the Jupiter. Keep the radar and sonar stations constantly manned. Eternal vigilance, if you will. Hell, Commander, I don't have to tell you what to do.» He wrote some figures on a piece of paper. «If I do have to go, contact this number in Washington. Tell them that Tm coming. Five hours or so.»
«This is the State Department?»
«Yes. Tell them that at least the Under Secretary must be there. Remind him, tactfully, of future campaign contributions. Then contact my aircraft pilot, Dawson. Tell him to be standing by with a filed flight plan for Washington.»
The radio operator knocked, entered, handed Lord Worth a message sheet and left. Lord Worth, hands steady and face now untroubled, decoded the message, reached for the phone and told Chambers to get to the helicopter at once.
He said to the two men: «A Russian-built Cuban submarine is on its way from Havana. It's being followed by a Russian guided-missile destroyer. Both are heading this way.»
«A visit to the State Department or the Pentagon would appear to be indicated,» Larsen said. «There isn't too much we can do about guided missiles. Looks like there might be quite some activity hereabouts. That makes five vessels arrowing in on us—three naval vessels, the Jupiter and the Roomer.» Larsen might have been even more concerned had he known that the number of vessels was seven, not five: but, then, Larsen was not to know that the Tiburon and the Starlight were heading that way also.
Lord Worth rose. «Well, keep an eye on the shop. Back this evening sometime. I'll be in frequent radio contact.»
Lord Worth was to fly four legs that day: by helicopter to the mainland, by his private Boeing to Washington, the return flight to Florida, and the final leg by helicopter out to the Seawitch. On each of those four legs something very unpleasant was going to happen—unpleasant for Lord Worth, that is. Fortunately for Lord Worth, he was not blessed with the alleged Scottish second sight—the ability to look into the future.
The first of those unpleasantnesses happened when Lord Worth was en route to the mainland. A large station wagon swept up to the front door of Lord Worth's mansion, carrying five rather large men who would have been difficult later to identify, for aU five wore stocking masks. One of them carried what appeared to be a large coil of clothesline rope, another a roll of adhesive tape. All carried guns.
MacPherson, the elderly head gardener, was taking his customary prework dawn patrol to see what damage the fauna had wreaked on his flora during the night, when the men emerged from the station wagon. Even allowing for the fact that shock had temporarily paralyzed his vocal cords, he never had a chance. In just over a minute, bound hand and foot and with his lips sealed with adhesive tape, he had been dumped unceremoniously into a clump of bushes.
The leader of the group, a man by the name of Durand, pressed the front-door bell. Durand, a man who had a powerful affinity with banks and who was a three-time ex-convict, was by definition a man of dubious reputation, a reputation confirmed by the fact that he was a close and longtime term associate of Cronkite. Half a minute passed, then he rang again. By and by the door opened to reveal a robe-wrapped Jen-kins, tousle-haired and blinking the sleep from his eyes—it was still very early in the morning. His eyes stopped blinking and opened wide when he saw the pistol in Durand's hand.