Cross of Fire (50 page)

'All very convenient.' de Forge sneered. 'Now we will
turn our attention to Operation Austerlitz. The organization
of panic in Paris. The sabotage units are moving into place?'

'All is going according to plan...'

'The famous phrase which means everything is going wrong. What is your view of Berthier?'

'One of my most trusted men.' Lamy replied
emphatically.

'Those are the ones to watch.' de Forge observed cynically. 'A successful traitor is the man everyone has the utmost confidence in.' He unfolded the map of Paris which was marked with the positions of the saboteur cells moving into the capital. 'I had Berthier here an hour ago and I noticed he was studying this battle map upside down.'

'He is a member of the inner circle - the selected few who make up the top security section of Intelligence. I
would expect him to be interested in all that is going on.'

'If you say so.' De Forge sounded unconvinced. 'The main thing is we must time Austerlitz carefully. It is too early to strike yet. The explosion must precede our march on Paris - to restore order when the present system is on the verge of collapse.'

'Our men will await the agreed signal.'

'See that they do. It could be soon now. Meantime step
up security in the Landes. Do it now.'

'And Kalmar? When he calls?'

'Stall him. Although it is my bet this
Manteau
will call
you first. Insist on finding out how he knew our next
requirement.' De Forge stared grimly at Lamy. 'My main worry is still this Kalmar-
Manteau
mystery. Is it the same
man or are there two of them? But that
is your problem.
And don't forget.' he repeated. 'I want security in the
Landes tighter than a steel drum.'

In Paris the lights were burning late in the Ministry of the Interior. Navarre had ordered food and drink to be brought
in for himself, Tweed, Lasalle, and Kuhlmann.

The German police chief had been frequently on the
phone to his Chancellor. The news of the catastrophe of the
TGV wreck had reached Germany. Navarre also spoke to
the Chancellor, assuring him that the crisis was coming
under control, that all anti-German and anti-US demon
strations had been banned, that they represented only a tiny fraction of fanatics, which was the truth.

'Your plan is working, Tweed?' he asked during a brief
interval of peace.

'My people are in place.' Tweed replied. 'They know what they have to do. We have moved with extraordinary speed. But what are your plans now France is without a President, a Prime Minister?'

'I have called an emergency meeting of the surviving
cabinet for two this morning.'

'Why that unearthly hour?'

Navarre grinned. 'I plan to take control. Someone has to.
I have great stamina. I am an owl - the night hours are my
friend. If necessary I will exhaust the others until they agree
to my appointment as temporary Prime Minister. But I will also retain control of the Ministry of the Interior.'

'A key post.' Tweed observed.

'Exactly. I am already mobilizing large numbers of heav
ily armed CRS units ready to move south. I have commandeered a large fleet of helicopters. We may need them in the Landes.'

'Why the Landes?' Tweed asked.

'Because General de Forge's strength, his support, is in the south. Reports are coming in of civilians buying up
carbines and ammunition. Ostensibly for hunting. But I
know they fear the Algerians. Dubois of the
Pour France,
backed by de Forge, will do everything he can to add fuel to the flames. He is already making speeches saying the
Muslim element must be deported before North Africa goes up in flames.'

'Going back to your taking over the Premiership.' Tweed
pointed out, 'won't your appointment have to be confirmed
by the National Assembly deputies?'

Navarre grinned again. 'Quite true. But there is a precedent. In 1958 de Gaulle was called back, confirmed by the Assembly to form a government. The deputies were scared witless, desperate for strong leadership, fearing a paratroop
landing in Paris by French troops from Algeria. A similar
situation prevails now. The deputies are again scared out of
their wits, desperate for strong leadership. De Forge hopes
to put himself forward - but I'm pre-empting him. Tonight. At 2 a.m.'

They were eating when a further phone call came
through for Kuhlmann. He listened, said very little, asked
to be kept constantly informed, put down the phone.

'My informant has located another
Siegfried
cell. This time
in Hamburg. Armed police stormed the building they were
holed up in.'

'They?' Tweed queried. 'You mean this time you trapped
some terrorists?'

'Three men and a very small cache of explosives and arms. Early interrogation indicates the men captured are
small fry from Alsace. Which makes sense since they speak both French and German in that French province near Switzerland.'

'The same informant who put you on to the other places, the one in Freiburg?' Tweed asked quietly.

'Yes. Why?'

'I just wondered. And now I am also wondering how
Newman is getting on. Heading straight into the Landes.'

After bypassing the city, Moshe drove on and on along the
N10 over a hundred kilometres south of Bordeaux. It was
the middle of the night but Moshe seemed tireless, refusing
to let Newman share the driving as be overtook long-
distance truck after truck.
The road surface was excellent and they were now deep in the Landes.

On both sides dense stands of black fir trees walled in
the road, an endless land of trees. Newman noticed that
some of the juggernauts they overtook had names. A
reminder of how far south they were, that Spain was not so far away. Newman was becoming hypnotized by watching twin glaring eyes approaching from the opposite direction,
speeding past. Then the traffic thinned. Moshe began talking
to keep himself alert.

'One incident during the Tarbes massacre I forgot to tell you. All the other Jews were burnt to death, as you already
know. Two of us decided we would escape by a rear exit.
My friend went ahead of me to open the door while I
searched for a weapon. When he opened the door it blew
up in his face, threw his mangled body against the wall
opposite.'

'I guess that would be an acquaintance of mine. Sergeant Rey. De Forge's booby trap specialist. I met him but when I
left him he had trouble with his jaw. How did you get
away?'

'After seeing what happened to the door, I scrambled out
of a window, dropped into a narrow gully concealed by dead
ferns. I crawled to safety. There is a similar escape route from
the Villa Jaune, where we are going. I will show you. I will
also introduce you to an old woman who knows how de
Forge uses the Landes near the sea. As a burial ground ...'

It sounded macabre, but Moshe would tell him more
when the time came. Moshe had now swung off the main
highway to Biarritz on to the more countrified D42. The
signpost had carried the legend
st girons.
With what
Moshe had just told him Newman was recalling Tweed's
precise instructions before he left Paris.

'It is the south which is de Forge's domain. Bordeaux is
the symbol of defeat in 1871 and 1940 which he is exploiting
to the full. This time, victory and power for France will
come from Bordeaux, or so he is saying.'

'How do you know that?' Newman had asked.

'Lasalle has planted at least one informant inside de
Forge's camp. I've no idea who it is, but Lasalle receives
regular reports. So that is why I'm pleased you're going
south. Find out what that devil is up to. Above all, if you can, find evidence which will bring him down. We are
supporting Germany as well as France in this endeavour.
And when you can, maybe you'd like to contact Kuhlmann's
secret agent in Bordeaux - Stahl. You have his details ...'

Tweed, Newman remembered, had been unusually
emphatic and forceful, stressing his points with chops of his hand. All indications that under his calm, detached manner
Tweed was more worried than he'd ever been.

'Moshe, this Villa Jaune we're going to. Describe for me its location.'

'West of St Girons. Hidden in the forests of the Landes. But very close to the sea. At night especially you can hear
the waves crashing on the nearby beach. And during the day, often, if it is a heavy sea. The dunes run for miles. It was an idyllic spot before the murders began.'

'What murders?'

'Better that you see for yourself. One demonstration, they
say, is worth a thousand words. And there is someone who can show you maybe better than I can.'

'Describe the layout of the villa. Inside.'

'A single-storey old building built of wood. On the side
facing the sea there is a verandah running along the front.
Inside two bedrooms, one living-dining room, a kitchen, a toilet. That's it.'

'The entrances and exits,' Newman persisted.

'A heavy wooden front door leading to the verandah,
windows at the front and on both sides. None at the back -
except for one low down, almost level with the ground, which has bars. The window opens close to another deep
gully similar to the one which saved my life at Tarbes. There
is a rear door to one side. Also a cellar - with no way out.'

'I've got the picture,' Newman replied.

He said nothing more as they drove on through the
night, passed through St Girons, which had no lights, and
some distance beyond Moshe swung on to a track leading
through the fir forest.

Newman checked his watch. It would be dawn in about two hours' time. Assaults were often launched at dawn.

In Arcachon, by chance, Butler chose the same small hotel
Newman and Moshe Stein had used earlier as temporary
accommodation for Stein. They walked in as planned during
the middle of the night. Paula hanging on to Butler's arm,
pressing herself close to him.

Butler wasted no time dealing with the sneaky-looking
night clerk who studied the couple and Nield bringing up
the rear with the cases. In his hand Butler held folded
French banknotes, asked for three rooms alongside each
other speaking in French.

'That might be difficult.' The clerk peered over his half-moon glasses. 'We are almost full up.'

'In late November? Come off it. We've had a long drive
from the Cote d'Azur. I said three rooms, alongside each
other. Of course, if you can't manage it...'

The banknotes began to disappear inside his pocket. The action galvanized the deal. He made a brief performance of studying the register.

'Pardon me. It so happens we have three such rooms on
the first floor. Even in the middle of the night...' He named
an excessive price.