A Woman Involved (7 page)

‘I’ve a pretty good idea! Her husband threatened to have me extradited to Grenada to face trial, if she did. And for the same reason I haven’t dared contact her!’

Brink-Ford said: ‘That suggests …  Or rather, may I ask – are you still enamoured of Anna Hapsburg?’

Morgan glared at him. ‘You may not. And may I ask what this red-hot information is which I have to extract from her?’

Brink-Ford sat back.

‘First I’ll tell you how we’re going to get you into Grenada.’ He looked at his watch. ‘At this moment American battleships are steaming towards Grenada. Meanwhile troops are being assembled in nearby Barbados. Now, this afternoon you will fly to Barbados on a scheduled flight. With a false passport. You will be met by an officer of the United States Navy – a SEAL officer. That’s their specialized Sea Air Land forces, like our Special Boat Service. He will equip you with the uniform and weapons of an American SEAL.’ He glanced at his file. ‘Your name will be Steven M. Jackson. The M is for Matheson.
You will be drilled on your new temporary identity. Family, training courses, military history. He’ll familiarize you with your weapons, et cetera. I’m told you’ve been trained to parachute?’

Morgan was staring at him. ‘Years ago. And I hated every jump.’

‘Well, I believe you may be parachuting into the sea, near the capital of St George’s, to start your search for Anna Hapsburg.’ He paused, collecting his notes. ‘We don’t know where she is. The island is in chaos. The telephones are cut. She may be barricaded in her home. Her parents are deceased, as you probably know. We think she may have fled to Government House. We know that about thirty civilians have taken refuge there, but we don’t know who they are. The governor is a British appointee, a black man called Scoon. Or she may be in one of the embassies. Anyway, you and your squad of SEALs will first look for her in her home. Then you will storm the rabble army that is besieging Government House, get inside and see if she’s there. If she is, you will all simply hold the fort until the invasion is over. Which should only be a matter of two days or so. And you, personally, will stay in Anna Hapsburg’s company all the time.’

Morgan could hardly believe this was happening.

‘And if she isn’t in Government House?’

‘You go back over the wall and look for her,’ Carrington said. ‘First in the obvious places, like foreign embassies. You’ll take some SEALs with you. When you find her, report by radio to Command. If you’re in a safe place, like an embassy, sit tight until the bun-fight’s over. If you’re in a dangerous situation, radio for help.’

Brink-Ford said: ‘Above all, you’ve got to keep Anna Hapsburg safe. Avoid risks as far as possible, avoid confrontation with the enemy, but give nobody the benefit of the doubt. Shoot to kill anybody who looks like endangering her. And the same applies to yourself – it is vital that you stay alive.’

Carrington smiled: ‘We thought you might like that part of it.’

Morgan was in no mood for jokes.

‘So that I can win her confidence for you bastards.’

Brink-Ford said earnestly: ‘For Queen and Country. Mr
Morgan, you are the only person who
can
win her confidence …’

‘And if she doesn’t divulge the information to me, you’ll get it out of her by hook or by crook?’

‘Mr Morgan, the whole purpose in sending you is so that we do
not
have to get it out of her by hook or by crook. And to get her away from people who would
certainly
not hesitate to use force to get the information. And then kill her afterwards. Namely, the Russians.’

Morgan stared. He thought, Jesus …  ‘And the Americans also want this information?’

‘Indeed. They’re collaborating with us. But only the SEALs in your immediate squad will know that your special assignment is to find Anna Hapsburg. They won’t know
why.
They’ll ask no questions. And only a couple of people in the whole armed services will know you’ve been put there by us.’

Morgan was grappling with all this.

‘But rather than disguise me as an American soldier, where my true identity may be discovered, why not send me disguised as a British journalist, or diplomat?’

‘Because,’ Carrington said, ‘officially Great Britain is keeping out of this. That’s why we’re asking you to do this unofficially, not serving Call-up papers on you. And
because
this is a highly military situation, you need the cover and facilities of the military to do the job properly. Journalists can’t run around with machine guns, can they?’

Morgan sat back. And took a deep, tense breath. Bemused. Anna had come back into his life? …  And for a moment he felt a flash of anger. ‘You’ll cause endless trouble,’ Janet Nicols had said. She was right. He said: ‘Tell me what information I’m after.’

Brink-Ford sat back. ‘I can tell you only as much as you
need
to know.’ He paused. ‘You have probably heard of Klaus Barbie?’

Morgan said, wonderingly: ‘Klaus Barbie? The “Butcher of Lyons”?’

Brink-Ford said: ‘Exactly. He is a Nazi war criminal who has recently been found in Bolivia, extradited back to France, and he’s presently in prison awaiting trial for murdering hundreds of French during the war. The French authorities have enough
evidence to guillotine him a dozen times. Yet they are stalling on the prosecution. Why?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘The theory is that Klaus Barbie knows certain facts that he is threatening to reveal if he is brought to trial. Those facts, if he could prove them to be true, would be …  terribly damaging to certain institutions in the West.’

Morgan was even more amazed. Anna was involved in this?

‘What institutions?’

‘That is the only detail I will tell you. You
need
to know that much, to help you …  unravel Mrs Hapsburg’s mind. Because that information which Klaus Barbie possesses was also possessed by Max Hapsburg. Indeed, we believe Max Hapsburg actually possessed the
evidence.
We believe it is in the form of an intelligence file, acquired by the Nazis during the war, or possibly in the form of a microfilm of that file.’

Morgan was amazed. ‘How did Max Hapsburg get hold of that file? He’s my age, born after the war.’

‘Good question. How much do you know of Hapsburg’s history?’

‘Only what his wife told me. That his father was a wealthy German who lived in South America after the war, married a Greek woman. He wasn’t a Nazi war criminal, was he?’

‘No. He was a Nazi, undoubtedly, but not a war criminal. Have you heard of Admiral Canaris?’

‘Yes,’ Morgan said. ‘He was the head of German Intelligence during the war, wasn’t he?’

‘Correct,’ Brink-Ford said. ‘Dietmar Hapsburg, Max’s father, worked with Admiral Canaris in Intelligence. It may be that when Germany crumbled, Dietmar Hapsburg fled to South America with this file – as insurance. When he died, Max came into possession of it. Somehow, Klaus Barbie got to hear of it, presumably.’ Brink-Ford held up his palm. ‘That’s as much as you need to know. We know – or we
think
we know – the general
nature
of the information. What we haven’t got is the
proof
– the file, or the microfilm, that shows it to be true. Or false.’ He added: ‘We sincerely hope, by the way, that it is false.’ He sighed briskly. ‘Max Hapsburg was a very wealthy man, with many connections. Maybe he kept the evidence in a bank vault somewhere. Or in a hole in the ground. We don’t know.’ He nodded at Morgan. ‘But we think Mrs Hapsburg
knows. And that’s what we want you to find out. But more than that. We want you to get Mrs Hapsburg to a place of complete safety while we get hold of this evidence, and check it out.’ He pointed at the floor. ‘Right here, where we can look after her. Because, I assure you, Mr Morgan, a number of other people will be after her too.’ Brink-Ford elaborated: ‘In fact, I do not exaggerate when I say that Mrs Hapsburg’s life is in extreme danger. Mercifully, for us – and for her –
and
for you – we have the might of the United States military behind us. If Anna Hapsburg were on her own in the middle of this Russian-inspired coup in Grenada, she wouldn’t survive a day. And after this invasion, they’ll still be trying to get her.’

Morgan felt a stab of fear for her. But he could hardly believe all this. Carrington said, ‘As regards your freighter, she’ll sail on schedule, with a captain provided by us. While officially you are on a hiking holiday in Scotland.’

Morgan felt feverish. For Anna’s safety. He looked at them, bemused. The civil service faces he once upon a time thought were incorruptible.

He took a deep breath. Then he held a shaky finger out at them.

‘Now let me make one thing abundantly clear.’ He glared. ‘I’m going on this operation for
her
sake – not for Queen and so-called Country!’ He shook his finger once. ‘And after I get her off that island, if you so much as lay a finger upon her …’ He raised his eyebrows: ‘I’ll blow this story sky-high. Do you understand that? Blow Queen and Country and Margaret Thatcher …’

In the middle of that rainy night several groups of SEALs landed on the north-eastern shores of Grenada from their rubber boats, to reconnoitre landing beaches for the assault at dawn. They radioed back to their ships that there were many dangerous coral reefs and the old grass airport of Pearls was heavily defended by the People’s Revolutionary Army and Cubans. At the same time a Specter helicopter gunship was flying high over the new airport at Point Salines, where the US Rangers would land, and the report they radioed back was worse: the runway was blocked with vehicles, construction equipment and metal spikes.

At the same time, two more parties of SEALs were approaching the western shore of the island, near the capital of Saint George’s, in their raiding boats, twenty-two men counting Jack Morgan. They ran up the beach for the blackness of the palms. Eight of them started along the dark treeline towards the big house of Max Hapsburg on the point of the bay.

There were no lights burning. There was a double garage, both doors open, one car visible inside. The big house was surrounded by trees and shrubs and lawns. The front door was ajar.

Morgan crouched in the rain beside the commander, his heart knocking. Two SEALs broke cover and ran at the door, and flung themselves on either side of it. Then they burst inside and disappeared.

Morgan waited. He could still hardly believe he was here. Then a light snapped on in the hall. A figure reappeared, and signalled. Morgan and the commander ran for the door

‘Empty. But there’s signs of a fight.’

Morgan looked around feverishly. The rugs in the hall were bunched, and a chair was knocked over. He crouched and examined the marble floor for blood. He saw none. ‘Come upstairs,’ the SEAL said.

Morgan followed him, bounding up the wide staircase. The rugs on the landing were also bunched. They strode down the corridor. Into a bedroom.

It was obviously hers. It was the first time he had seen it, of course, and it was unreal that he was standing in it now. A big double bed, elegant furniture. There was another bedroom leading off this one, with another double bed. There were two dressing rooms. There was the sound of running water, coming from a bathroom. A wall safe stood agape; it was empty. Some wardrobe doors stood open. Morgan strode into the next bedroom. A drawer from a bedside table lay on the floor. He strode for the bathroom.

The shower was beating down into the tub.
Why
? He felt the water: cold. A towel lay in one corner, a stool had been kicked over. He crouched and examined the tiled floor, looking for blood. There was none. He stood up. Then he saw it.

His heart missed a beat, and he feverishly crouched and examined it. It was on one corner of the bathtub: one small smear of blood. He strode out of the room.

He ran down the staircase, back to the hall. ‘Definitely nobody in the house?’

‘Nor in the gardens. No new graves either, as far as we can see in this light.’

‘Then let’s get the hell on to Government House.’

The dark rain wept down.

Government House stands on a hill, overlooking the old harbour of Saint George’s. Nearby is Fort Ruppert, headquarters of the People’s Revolutionary Army. Government House is an old colonial building, set in gardens, with a big iron gate bearing the royal coat of arms. Surrounding the walls were the soldiers of the People’s Revolutionary Army, holding the people inside hostage.

At dawn the Marines landed at the old Pearls airport in the north, midst teaming rain and anti-aircraft fire; at the same time the Rangers flew in from Florida over New airport midst even heavier anti-aircraft fire; at dawn a party of SEALs attacked the Radio Free Grenada station. At dawn the twenty-one SEALs and Jack Morgan stormed Government House.

They came fighting up the streets towards the hilltop, midst
the clatter of guns and the stink of cordite, and they stormed the perimeter of Government House.

Morgan frantically threw himself at the wall midst the cacophony of gunfire, swung his leg up, and rolled over the top. He landed with a crash in a flowerbed. He scrambled up and crouched there, rasping, thanking God, getting his breath. Over the wall came the others. They ran off in different directions to cover different aspects of the house; the commander rasped ‘
Go
’ and Morgan ran.

He ran flat out across the lawn, for the kitchen. The commander flung himself at the door handle. It was locked. He stepped backwards and kicked, and the door crashed in. They burst through the door together.

‘
Freeze! – US soldiers! – Freeze!
’

The dark kitchen was empty. The commander bounded for the door to the corridor, stood flat against the wall. Morgan crouched, dry-mouthed. The commander shouted:

‘
Freeze! – We’re US soldiers! – Freeze!
’

Nothing. Only the crack and thud of gunfire out there. The commander burst through the door. He ran up the corridor, to the hall.

It was empty. He looked into the dining room. There was nobody. Morgan came running up the corridor. The commander bounded up to the living room door, and flung it open.