Red Alert (10 page)

It was another five minutes before he tried to sit up again. He lifted his head off the pillow, swung his legs off ^ the couch then sat up and rubbed his eyes. He was beginning to feel human again.

'How's the head?'

Whitlock looked the length of the cabin at the man| seated a few feet away from the cockpit door. He recog

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nized him as Richard Wiseman from the photograph Rust had included in the assignment dossier. The photograph showed him in the uniform of a three-star general. Now he was wearing a light grey suit, white shirt and blue t
ie.
He looked to be in his mid-fifties with a rugged, weatherbeaten face, a neatly trimmed black moustache and black hair going grey at the temples. Wiseman repeated the question without looking up from the game of solitaire he was playing.

Whitlock looked at his watch. He had been asleep for four hours. He crossed to the table and sat down opposite Wiseman. 'This has gone far enough. I demand to know what's going on.'

Wiseman nodded as he studied the cards in front of him, and finally sat back, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. 'What do you want to know?'

'For a start, who are you?'

Wiseman told him.

'Where the hell are we?'

'In my private jet, about thirty-five thousand feet over t France. ETA in Rome is twenty-five minutes.'

'Rome?' Whitlock replied, feigning bewilderment. j'Why are you taking me there?'

Wiseman was about to answer when the bathroom |door opened at the other end of the cabin. His eyes Iflickered past Whitlock and he smiled at the approaching Ifigure. 'Back to your old self again, I see. Mr Alexander, {you've met Vie Young.'

Whitlock's eyes widened in surprise when he saw

oung. The black hair and moustache were gone. Now lie was blond and clean shaven.

'I was wearing a wig,' Young said, running his fingers irough his thick blond hair. He crossed to the drinks abinet, poured out two measures of bourbon, and handed

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one of the glasses to Wiseman. 'What you are drinking, Alexander?'

'Nothing,' Whitlock retorted, eyeing Young coldly. 'Where are the woman and the boy?'

Young shrugged. 'I left them in the police car. They were only drugged.'

'You killed Dave - '

'He knew too much,' Young cut in quickly.

Whitlock shook his head as if in despair. 'I would have got five years, maximum, for the job I did. I'd have been out in three. Now I'm facing a fifteen-year stretch as an accessory to murder.'

Young picked up a card from the floor, dropped it on to the table, then sat down. 'You'll be facing a murder rap if the police find the gun.'

'What are you talking about?' Whitlock said in amazement. 'Murder? I didn't kill him.'

'Didn't you?' Young replied. 'There's only one set of fingerprints on the gun. Yours.'

'That's ridiculous, you pulled the trigger.'

'But I was wearing gloves, remember? I put your prints on the gun while you were unconscious.'

'Where's the gun now?'

'Safe,' Young replied.

'Call it an insurance policy,' Wiseman said.

Young smiled at Wiseman's choice of phrase.

'Insurance against what?' Whitlock asked suspiciously.

'You running out on us before the two of you have finished what you're going to Rome to do,' Wiseman; answered.

'Then, when it's over, you hand the gun over to thei police?'

'On the contrary. It'll be handed over to you, alongj with a hundred thousand pounds in cash.'

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'And you honestly expect me to believe that?'

'I don't see why not,' Wiseman said, shrugging his shoulders. 'You won't be able to tie Vie in with Humphries' death. He's got half a dozen witnesses lined up who'd swear, in court if necessary, that he was with them in another country at the time of the shooting. I admit I was in London this morning. At the Court of St James. The American Ambassador and I go back a long way.'

'You've got it all worked out, haven't you?' Whitlock said. 'So whatever way you look at it, I've been set up to take the fall.'

'Not if you're smart and do as you're told,' Wiseman replied.

'So why exactly are we going to Rome?' Whitlock asked at length.

'To find my brother's killer,' Wiseman said.

'To find him, or to kill him?'

'It amounts to the same thing,' Wiseman said.

'It gets better by the minute. I suppose my prints will be found on that murder weapon as well?'

'Officially, neither of you is in Italy. You'll both be travelling on false passports. Vie, get his passport.'

Young crossed to an attache case, took out a passport, and tossed it on to the table in front of Whitlock.

Whitlock picked it up. 'Raymond Anderson?' He ropened it and saw the space for the photograph.

'We'll take a Polaroid of you in a moment,' Wiseman Isaid with a shrug, then gestured to Young. 'Vic's travelling pis Vincent Yardley. Remember the name.'

'What about you?' Whitlock asked Wiseman.

'I'm going to Rome to collect my brother's body. And tiat's not a cover story.'

'What happened to him?'

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" Wiseman picked up a folder from the floor beside his chair and handed it to Whitlock. 'It's all in there. Newspaper clippings, American mostly.'

Whitlock opened the folder. He had already seen many

of the clippings, which had been included in his dossier.

.;* He leafed through them, pausing occasionally to read

" something that caught his eye. 'Why did the Red Brigades

f shoot him?'

5 'That's what I want to find out,' Wiseman replied, his | jaw hardening. 'He'd never harmed anyone in his life. All | he cared about was his work. I could have understood it if they had come after me. A decorated soldier with strong NATO connections. I know I'm a target in their eyes. But why David? What really got to me was that the bastards actually gloated about it publicly. That was a mistake. A big mistake.'

Whitlock closed the folder and handed it back to Wiseman. 'I'm sorry about your brother. But I don't see where I fit in.'

'You were recommended to me as the best wheelman either side of the Atlantic,' Wiseman said. 'Vie may need you for a fast getaway. It all depends on where and when the hits take place.'

'Hits? You said your brother's killer, not killers. How many hits are there going to be?'

Two at least. The gunman, and the person who authorized the killing. And if it turns out that others are inŤ volved, they too will be targeted. I want justice, Mrj Alexander, no matter what it takes.'

'Why this personal vendetta? Why don't you leave kj to the police and let them bring the killers in?'

'I'm a soldier, Mr Alexander. The Red Brigades are the enemy. And I've been taught to kill the enemy.'

'So why don't you, instead of hiring us to do youi

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dirty work for you?' Whitlock's expression was challenging.

Wiseman removed his gloves and held up his hands. Both index fingers were missing. 'The Vietcong cut them off in '69 when they found out I was a sniper. I was one of the lucky ones. I'm still alive. I've had several rifles made for me since then, all with the trigger housed in the butt. They're no substitute for the real thing, though. I only use them for game shooting now. If I don't kill a deer with my first shot I can always rely on a second shot to finish it off. It would be another matter if I could only wound a human target, especially one that was armed. It's not that I'm scared of dying, Mr Alexander, I just want to be sure that the job's done properly. That's why I chose the two of you. Vie was in my platoon in Vietnam. He's still one of the best snipers in the business. And as I said earlier, you're regarded as the best wheelman around. I don't see how the two of you can fail.'

'It's decision time, Alexander. Are you in or out?' ;' 'I didn't realize I had a choice,' Whitlock countered sarcastically.

'It's very simple,' Young said. 'If you're in, you'll be paid forty thousand pounds up front. If you're out, the ; door's behind you.' j 'That's some choice. I'm in, for what it's worth.'

'Excellent,' Wiseman said. He removed an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Whitlock. 'Twenty v thousand pounds sterling. You'll be paid the balance on wnpletion of the job.' He noticed the uncertainty in |Whitlock's eyes. 'One thing you'll learn about me, Mr Uexander, is that I never renege on a business deal. I pride fiyself on my honesty. You'll be paid, in full, when it's aver.'

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Whitlock opened the envelope and looked inside. The money was in used fifty-pound notes.

Young took an eight-inch oblong box from his inside jacket pocket and placed it on the table in front of Whitlock. 'Open it.'

Whitlock picked up the box and removed the lid. Inside was a watch lying on a bed of cotton wool. He took it out, turned it around in his fingers, then looked up questioningly at Young.

'Put it on,' Young said.

'Why? I've already got a watch.'

'Put it on,' Young repeated.

'What's the catch?'

'It's another little insurance policy against you running out on me now that you've got the money,' Young told him. 'It has a small homing device built into it. I have the receiver in my pocket.'

'In other words, I'm being tagged?'

'As a precaution, that's all,' Wiseman said. 'Forty thousand pounds is a lot of money, Mr Alexander. We don't want you to be tempted into doing something you'll regret.'

'And if I refuse?'

Young smiled. Then the gun will be left in a convenient place for the police to find. And you'll be handed over to the authorities when we reach Rome. A stowaway.'

Whitlock unstrapped his own watch and snapped the other watch over his wrist.

Young took a miniature black transmitter from his; jacket pocket and placed it on the table. The back of the, watch has been packed with a highly concentrated plastici explosive. It works in conjunction with the transmitter.! It can be triggered in three different ways. Firstly, by| attempting to remove the watch from your wrist. Secr|

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ondly, if the button on the transmitter is depressed. And thirdly, if the watch and the transmitter are ever more than three miles apart. The charge is certainly big enough to blow off part of your arm. Potentially it could kill you, depending on where your wrist was at the time of the explosion.'

'I don't believe this . . .' Whitlock trailed off, his eyes blazing.

'I can understand your resentment, Mr Alexander - ' 'No you can't,' Whitlock interceded angrily. 'You can't begin to understand it. I've been abducted, drugged, framed, threatened and now tricked into wearing some booby-trapped wristwatch. I've agreed to go along with you - what more do you want from me? If you want me to drive for you, Young, you neutralize this device first.' Young shook his head. 'It stays on until this is over. And as I'm the one who set the charge, I'm the only one who knows how to neutralize it. You're stuck with it, Alexander. At least for the time being.'

'And you go along with that?' Whitlock asked fWiseman.

Wiseman nodded. 'If that's what Vie wants. It's his ^operation, he calls the shots. I'll merely be an observer, Ithat's all.'

'I don't trust you, Alexander. But at least this way know I can depend on you to be where I want you |when I want you. Unless, of course, you're willing to sse your arm for the sake of forty thousand pounds, personally I credit you with a bit more intelligence than bat.'

The pilot's voice came over the intercom asking them fasten their seatbelts as he was about to start the final escent into Rome. Whitlock snapped the belt shut across him then stared

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at the watch. They had him exactly where they wanted him. At least for the time being . . .

Philpott answered the telephone on his desk.

'I've got a Major Lonsdale from Scotland Yard's antiterrorist squad on the line, sir,' Sarah told him.

'Put him through.'

She connected them, then replaced her receiver.

'Colonel Philpott?'

'Speaking. I've been expecting a call from you for the past two hours. What happened? Did C.W. get away all right?'

'That all went fine. He should be touching down in Rome about now.'

'So why the delay?' Philpott asked.

Lonsdale explained what had happened, including the discovery of Humphries' body by the local CID in Stoke Newington.

'Are the boy and his mother all right?' Philpott asked anxiously.

'They're both fine.'

'Why did Young pick them?'

'Harris knows the boy's father, Wendell Johnson -- '

'Who's Harris?' Philpott cut in.

'He was the other man Young hired to help him spring Alexander.'

'The one you picked up yesterday?'

'That's right,' Lonsdale replied. 'It seems Young wanted a hostage to force the police guards to release Alexander.; But he knew abducting someone in the street would be; too dangerous. That's when Harris came up with Mary 1 Robson and her boy.'

'Did Harris tell you this?'

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'Yes.'

'How did Young get hold of the police car and the uniforms?'

'He hired the uniforms from a theatrical company. He made a bogus call to the police to lure the police car on to a housing estate in Lambeth. The two of them overpowered the driver and left him tied up in an empty flat on the estate. Whitlock was sprung half an hour later.'

'How did they get C.W. on to the plane?'

'Wiseman's private Lear jet was parked at an American airbase. The sentry on duty at the gate is certain there were only two men in Wiseman's official car when it arrived at the base. Wiseman and the driver.'

'Who must have been Young?'

'The description certainly matches the American who helped spring Whitlock from the police van. We didn't push it any further in case word got back to Wiseman. The logical conclusion is that Whitlock was in the boot, unconscious, when the car arrived at the base.'

'I appreciate your help, Major Lonsdale.'

'Not at all.'

'I'll call you to tell you when you can release Alexander back into the custody of the police.'

'Fine. We'll keep him entertained until then.'