Read The Golden Gate Online

Authors: Alistair MacLean

Tags: #Thriller, #Fiction

The Golden Gate (11 page)

BOOK: The Golden Gate
13.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

No one said whether 'they were going to pay him or not
'I haVe to make arrangements with a friend in New York Who has friends in certain European banks.' He looked at his watch. 'It's noon now so it's either eight or nine o'clock in Central Europe and all good Central European bankers knock off at six precisely. So I'd be greatly obliged if you'd let me have your decision by seven o'clock in the morning.'
Quarry said cautiously: 'What decision?'
'As to the availability of the funds and the form that they will take. Not that I care very much what they are, anything from Euro-dollars to stock 'in suitably selected off-shore funds. You, of all people, should find little problem in handling such things with a certain amount of discretion - witness, for instance, the hundreds of millions of dollars you've funded such organizations as the CIA for subversive activities overseas without the poor taxpayer being any the wiser. A childishly simple routine for your Treasury. Not that I care whether those funds are traceable or not: just as long as they are convertible.
'When my New York friend has informed us that those funds have all arrived at their several destinations - and that shouldn't take more than another twenty-four hours, say until noon the same day-we shall take our farewells of you. Our hostages will, of course, accompany us.'
'And where are you 'taking us?' Cartland demanded.
'You I'm not taking anywhere. The armed services may regard you as invaluable but your value to me as a bargaining counter is zero. Besides, you're the only man 'here who could conceivably cause me trouble. Not only are you a man of action but you're far too lean-let me have men about me that are fat and all that bit. The President and 'his three remaining oil friends. There's no harm in telling you that T have a friend in the Caribbean who is the President of an island that doesn't and never will have an extradition treaty with the United States. He's willing to put us up, bed and breakfast, for a million dollars a night.'
No one had anything to say to this. In terms of the sums of money that Branson had so recently been bandying about, it seemed a reasonable enough charge.
'One point,' Branson said. 'I did not mention that as from noon the following day-day after, tomorrow that is-there will be a penalty clause, an escalation charge you might call it, for every 'hour's delay in the reported lodgment of the funds. Two million dollars an hour.'
'You do place a certain value on your time, don't you, Mr Branson,' Quarry said.
'If I don't, who will? Would there 'be any more questions?' 'Yes,' Cartland said. 'How do you propose to get to this island paradise of yours?'
'Fly there. How else? A ten-minute flight in our helicopters to the International Airport and we board our plane there.' 'You have all this arranged? You have a plane standing by?'
'Well, it doesn't know it's standing by but it will soon enough.'
"What plane?'
'Air Force 1, I believe you call it'
Even Cartland was shaken out of his habitual reserve. 'You mean you're going to hijack the Presidential Boeing?'
'Be reasonable, General. You surely can't expect your President to judder 'his way down to the Caribbean in a clapped-out DCS? It's the logical, the only way of transporting world leaders who are accustomed to the ultimate in luxury travel. We'll show them the latest films. Brief though their incarceration may be we'll make it as comfortable as possible for them. We might even get some more new films when we fly them back to the States again.' 'We?' Cartland said carefully.
'My friends and I. I feel it only right-no, more than that, our bounded duty - that we should see them safely back again. How any man of any sensitivity can bear to live in that monstrosity they call the White House I don't know but, after all, there's no place like home.'
Milton was equally careful. 'You mean you're going to set foot on American soil again?'
'My own, my native land. Why ever not? You disappoint me, Mr Milton.'
'I do?'
'You do. Apart from the Supreme Court and the Attorney General I would have thought that the Secretary of State would know as much about our law and constitution as any other man in the land.' There was silence. Branson looked around but (here was still silence so he addressed himself to the Secretary again. 'Or don't you know that bit where it says that no man who has been granted a full and free pardon by the State for any crime, actual or alleged, can ever again be arraigned on that same charge?'
It took at least ten seconds for the full implications to dawn and it was then mat the Potomac, in the person of the Chief Executive, burst its banks. It was also then that the President lost twice the number of the putative votes he might have gained from his earlier statement that he would sacrifice 'himself for America. He could hardly be blamed. Devious some politicians may be and others are armoured in pachydermal hides: but never had the President encountered such Machiavellian effrontery. Even Presidents may be forgiven the odd earthy turn of phrase within the privacy of their own four walls but they customarily abjure such phraseology when addressing the electorate. But, momentarily, the President had totally forgotten the fact that he was, in effect, addressing the electorate: he was appealing to a mindless heaven for justice. And it was in that direction that his anguished face was lifted as he stood there, arms rigidly outstretched and fists clenched, his face assuming a peculiarly purplish hue.
'Half a deleted billion dollars! And a deleted full and free pardon I God al-deleted-mighty!' He lowered 'his gaze from the cloudless sky and turned the full fury of his wrath on Branson who, disappointingly, had not been struck down by a bolt from heaven.
Branson murmured to the doctor: 'You have your cardiac arrest unit handy?'
'This is not funny.'
The President warmed to his theme. 'You evil twisted deluded bastard, If you imagine -'
Cartland, belatedly, readied his side, touched his arm and Whispered urgently: 'You're on television, sir.'
The President, cut off in mid-expletive, looked at him, screwed 'his eyes shut in sudden comprehension, opened them again, looked the camera squarely in the eye and addressed it in measured tones.
'I, as the elected representative and Chief Executive of the American people, will not stand for this vile blackmail, the machinations of this evil and amoral man. The American people will not stand for it Democracy will not stand for it. Come what may we shall fight this cancer in our midst -' 'How?' Branson asked.
'How?' The President tried manfully to control his blood pressure at the thought of this but full rationality had not yet returned to him. The entire resources of every investigative agency in those United States of ours, the entire weight of the armed forces the full majesty of law and order will be brought to bear -'
'You're not up for re-election for six months yet. How?'
'When I have consulted with the senior members of my cabinet -'
'You're through with consulting anyone, except on my say-so. A full and free pardon. If not, your stay on this tropical island may be indefinitely extended. Most of the island, as I say, is pretty close to paradise: but there's a small stockaded section in one corner of the island that's been modelled rather closely on the Devil's Island that used to be. The Generalissimo has to have some place for his political dissidents, and as he doesn't care for them overly much the majority of them never emerge again. It's a combination of hard labour, fever and starvation. I somehow don't see the King here with a pickaxe in his hand. Nor yourself for that matter.
'And instead of waffling on about the nation's moral rectitude, you might give thought to another possible predicament of your guests here. It is no secret that both the King and Prince have trusted Government ministers and relatives who are just yearning to try their thrones for size. If your friends' stay in the Caribbean were to be unduly prolonged, one rather suspects that they would have neither kingdom nor sheikhdom to return to. You appreciate, of course, that American opinion would never let you deal with their usurpers - especially as you would be the one held to blame for it Bang goes November. Bang goes San Rafael. Here comes either redoubled oil prices or a total embargo and, in either case, a disastrous recession. You won't even rate a footnote in history. At best, if they ever get round to compiling a list of history's most stupid and disastrous national leaders, then you have a fair chance of making the Guinness Book of Records. But history itself? No.'
'You have quite finished?' The President's anger had seemingly evaporated and he had attained a curious sort of resigned dignity.
'For the moment.' Branson motioned to the TV cameramen that the performance was over.
'May I have a word with the King, Prince, my governmental colleagues and the Chief of Police?'
"Why not? Especially if it helps you to arrive at your decision more quickly.'
'In privacy?'
'Certainly. Your coach.'
'In the strictest privacy?'
The guard will remain outside. As you know, the coach is sound-proof. The strictest privacy, I promise you.'
They moved away, leaving Branson alone. He beckoned Chrysler, his telecommunications expert
'Is the bug in the Presidential coach activated?'
'Permanently.'
'Our friends are having a top-level secret discussion in there. Wouldn't you care to have a rest in our coach? You must be tired.'
'Very tired, Mr Branson.'
Chrysler made his way to the rear coach and sat by the driver's seat in front of the console. He made a switch and lifted a single ear-phone. Apparently satisfied with what he heard he replaced the ear-phone and made another switch. A tape recorder started humming.
April Wednesday said to Revson: 'Well, what did you make of that?"
'I'd love to see the Nielsen ratings when they re-run that later in the day.' They were walking to and fro along the western or deserted side of the bridge. 'What a cast Rehearsals would have ruined it."
'You know I don't mean that'
'I know. He's quite a boy, our Peter Branson. Highly intelligent - but we know that already-all the angles figured, every eventuality taken care of far in advance, he'd have made an excellent general. You could - at least I could - almost like and admire the guy, except for the fact that, the odd half billion apart, he plainly does this for kicks, he's a moral vacuum and the ordinary standards of right and wrong just do not hold good for him, they simply don't exist. There's something strangely empty about him.'
'His bank book isn't going to be. But I didn't mean that either'
'I know that too. In answer to your unspoken question, yes he has us helpless.'
'Do you intend to do anything about it?'
'Intentions are one thing, achievements another.'
"Well, you just can't walk up and down there doing nothing. After what you told me this morning -'
'I know what I told you this morning. A little respectful silence, if you please. Can't you see I'm thinking?'
After some little time he said: 'I've thought'
'I can't wait.'
'Have you ever been sick?'
She lifted her brows which had the effect of making the huge green eyes larger than ever. With those eyes, Revson reflected, she could wreck a cardinals' council in nothing flat. To keep his mind on the work on hand, he looked away. She said: 'Of course I've been sick. Everybody's been sick some time.'
'I mean really sick. Hospital. Like that.'
'No. Not ever.'
'You're going to be very soon. la hospital. Sick. If you're still prepared to help, that is.'
'I've told you that already.'
'Asperity ill becomes a lovely lady. There's quite an element of risk. If you're caught, Branson would make you talk. Half a billion dollars is a lot of money to have at stake. You'd talk very quickly.'
'Even more quickly than that. I'm not one of your wartime resistance heroines and I don't like pain. Caught at what?'
'Delivering a letter for me. Leave me alone for a few minutes, will you.'
Revson unshipped his camera and took some still shots, of the coaches, helicopters, anti-aircraft guns and guards, trying as much as possible to keep the southern tower and the San Franciscan skyline in the background, clearly a dedicated craftsman at work. He then turned his attention and lens towards the ambulance and the white-jacketed doctor leaning against it.
The doctor said: 'Instant fame for me, is it?'
"What else? Everyone wants to be immortalized.'
'Not this doctor. And an ambulance you can film anywhere."
'You need psychiatric help.' Revson lowered his camera. 'Don't you know that it's positively anti-social in this country not to want to hog the camera lens? My name's Revson.'
'O'Hare.' O'Hare was youthful, cheerful, red-haired and his Irish ancestry lay no more than a generation behind him.
'And what do you think of this lovely little set-up?'
'For quotation?'
'I'm a cameraman.'
'Aw, hell, quote me if you want. I'd just love to belt smarty-pants's ears off.'
'It figures.'
'What?'
The red hair.'
'I'd feel the same if I were black, blond or bald as a coot. Arrogant smoothies do something to me. And I don't like the way he needles the President and publicly humiliates him.'
'You're a President man, then?'
"Hell, he's a Californian, I'm a Californian, I voted for him last time and I'll do so next time. Okay, so he's stuffy and over-does the kindly uncle bit but he's the best we have. Not that that says a great deal-but, well, he's really a decent old stick.'
'Decent old stick?'
'Don't blame me, I was educated in England.'
'Would you like to help him?'
O'Hare looked at Revson thoughtfully. 'Funny question. Sure I would.'
'Would you help me to help him?"
'How can you help him?'
'I'll try and I'll tell you how-if you say "yes", that is.'
'And what makes you think you can help more than anyone else?'
'Special qualifications. I'm a Government employee."
'So what's with the camera, then?'
'And I always thought it took a fair amount of intelligence to qualify as a doctor. What do you expect me to be carrying-a foot-wide plaque on my chest saying "I am an FBI agent"?'
O'Hare smiled, but only faintly. 'Well, no. But the story is that all the FBI men were left asleep in a down-town garage. Except for a few on the press coach who were rousted out and marched off the bridge.'
'We don't put all our eggs in one basket.'
'And agents don't usually disclose their identity either.'
'Not this agent. I'd disclose my identity to anyone if I were in trouble. And I'm in trouble now.'
'As long as it's not unethical -'

BOOK: The Golden Gate
13.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

On the Line by Kathryn Ascher
Progressive Dinner Deadly by Craig, Elizabeth Spann
Lost In Lies by Xavier Neal
Ardor by Elena M. Reyes
Joan Smith by The Kissing Bough