Shaw mooched about the Embassy all that morning, in a nail-biting mood. He had considered contacting Villaroel and asking him if his influence would extend to getting the Argentine Government to change its mind, but he had rejected that. He would have had to tell Villaroel too much — talking of secret matters here in the Embassy was one thing, revealing them to a Bolivian, of however much goodwill, was quite another — and in any case this was no matter for diplomacy of that kind. So that was no good… meanwhile the very sight of the Embassy secretaries, going placidly about their usual tasks, irritated him almost beyond endurance. No one appeared to be bothering overmuch about what was going to happen if something wasn’t done fast. But then, of course, this wasn’t the United States. This wasn’t Washington or New York or Chicago or any of the other places that were going to be devastated next day, and apart from not sharing that danger, this place didn’t share the zip and hustle that had put America on top of the world. This was B.A, the sunshine city of the eastern seaboard, far removed from the danger areas. These people could plan ahead, knowing that tomorrow, and the day after that, would be just like today. They could meet their girl-friends, arrange their dinner-parties and their swimming parties with untroubled minds. There were no immediate threats to hurt them down here; and in the meantime diplomatic procedures had to be observed as usual, the customary routines gone through not withstanding, the obligatory farce played out while an allied nation ticked away the hours to its obliteration as a Power. The petty problems of some overfed, oversexed holidaying business tycoon who had mislaid his passport were of more moment to the British Embassy today than all the thermo-nuclear missiles in both hemispheres. So were the problems of some film starlet whose British husband was trying to get Etherington’s approval for his children to be lodged in the Embassy en route for London while the film starlet hopped in and out of an Argentinian beef king’s bed.…
Shaw fumed in and out of his room, up and down the elegant passages, snapping at Patricia O’Malley when she came to talk to him, too worried even to notice the hurt look in the girl’s eyes. Then at last, at noon, a messenger told him that Etherington would like to see him in his office.
Shaw went off fast.
Etherington looked up when he threw the door open and said suavely, ‘Oh, Shaw. Well, Washington didn’t waste any time after all. The bombers took off from the Canal Zone at 0800 hours this morning — that’s four hours before the deadline.’ He glanced up at a clock. ‘We’re just over the deadline now, I see.… Those bombers’ll be in the vicinity of Cape Horn around 1900 hours tonight—’
‘They won’t see a thing,’ Shaw snapped.
‘They’ll drop incendiaries.’
‘I didn’t mean that! I mean there won’t be anything to see. The Moehne’ll have gone. Do I have to go on repeating that like a flaming parrot?’
Etherington said obliquely, ‘Well, you know, I wonder if she’ll have gone… what about old Lindrath — the master? D’you think he might sabotage the engines, perhaps, so as to keep her on station, like he sabotaged the echo-sounder to aid your escape? I mean, he’s bound to know his ship’s being chased by now, and that it would help if he could keep her where she is.’
‘Yes, but…’ Shaw shook his head. ‘No, it’s doubtful, very doubtful. I don’t believe he’d worry about what happened to himself, but he’d have to take far too many people into his confidence to achieve anything worth while.’
‘The echo-sounder couldn’t go wrong again?’
Shaw sighed. ‘It could, yes, but in fact he can navigate well enough without it, just as the sailing-ships used to! In a real emergency, he couldn’t possibly fool Fleck on that.’ He frowned and let out a long breath. ‘Is Washington relying entirely on that bomber force? They’ll be damn-all use if they don’t sight the Moehne right away… they won’t have any spare fuel to hang around or search, you know.’
‘Yes, I do know!’ Etherington grinned suddenly. ‘Surprise, surprise! As it happens, we’ve got some other information. Washington’s not relying wholly on the bombers — like you, they assume the Moehne’ll go to sea or at least shift her anchorage. So the U.S Navy’s coming in. There’s a squadron steaming south on a visit to Comodoro Rivadavia, at least that’s where they were going till all this blew up. They’ve already been given new orders, and they’re steaming south for Cape Horn at full speed to intercept the Moehne if she’s at sea — or hunt her out if she isn’t.’
Shaw said, ‘Well, that’s something, anyway. Where are they now, d’you know?’
Etherington consulted some papers on his desk. He said, ‘Yes. They’re well to the south of here already — fifty miles off Comodoro Rivadavia at the time the message was sent to us, that’s three hours ago, about.’
‘Give me a sheet of bumph, will you…’
Etherington obliged and Shaw did a quick calculation. ‘Give ’em say… thirty-two knots flat out,’ he murmured. ‘They could be off the Horn by about 0800 tomorrow morning. That gives us four hours in hand, doesn’t it. And that’s a maximum — there’s weather to be taken into account, for one thing, weather that can cut their speed quite a lot.’ He shook his head worriedly. ‘What’s the use, for heaven’s sake! When they reach the Horn, they’ve still got to locate the Moehne! She could be anywhere by that time, either at sea or in any one of dozens of little inlets north of Hoste Island.’ He walked up and down with fists clenched, then swung round on Etherington, his face beaded with sweat. ‘Look, chum,’ he said tensely, ‘this is getting a damn sight too hot to hold. I know it’s none of my business now, but I’m going to talk to Pullman in the Pentagon. I’m beginning to think no one really quite believes what I saw aboard the Moehne—d’you know that? They’ve got to postpone that test. They’ve just got to!’
‘Yes, but d’you think—’
Shaw wasn’t listening. He went on, ‘If they don’t, they’re simply playing right into Fleck’s hands, giving him the very weapon he most wants. And ultimately we’re concerned in that as well as America.’
Pullman’s voice was faint and continually overlaid with buzzing and crackling on the long-distance line. But Shaw got through to him all right and he told the American bluntly that in his opinion things were being cut much too fine. Pullman knew this, absolutely agreed, but insisted that he was under extreme pressure and that in fact the ultimate decision was well and truly out of his hands.
Shaw said desperately. ‘Twenty-four hours, just another twenty-four hours might make all the difference!’
The phone crackled at him. ‘You don’t have to tell me that, son. I’m going to try again, but I don’t expect a lot of co-operation.’
‘Well, I’ll wish you luck, sir. By the way… I’d like to be in on this right to the end. Is there any way I could join the squadron at sea?’
Pullman said, ‘That depends. If you can make the Falklands by 2100 hours tonight I’ll fix it for you to go aboard the third ship of the squadron, the North Dakota. She’s leaving Port Stanley at that time to rejoin the squadron, rendezvous-ing in 53° 48’ South, 63° 30’ West. She went ahead to pay a visit there before the orders were changed, and she developed a spot of engine trouble, but she’s signalled she’ll be fit for sea tonight. Make it no later than that, and you can board her. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ Shaw said gratefully. All he had to do now, he thought as he put down the phone, was to persuade Etherington, or if need be the Ambassador himself, to get him to Port Stanley in time — by fair means or foul.