The Cauldron (53 page)

'Well, at least it's peaceful on the highway.' Paula replied. 'And I'd better stop thinking that way. Every time I do something horrendous happens. I could do without any more events.'

It was not a characteristic Paula remark. Tweed was careful not to look back at her. Was the strain telling on his team? His worry was increased by her next remark.

'You said.' she began cheerfully, 'that Moss Landing wasn't like McGee's Landing. Remember?'

Tweed said nothing. He knew when it was best to keep quiet. Napoleon had once said that in war morale was to the material as three to one. Something close to that. Perhaps it's my fault, he was thinking. I've been brooding too much recently. I must pay more attention to keeping up morale.

'Well, we have again reduced the strength of the security forces at Moloch's disposal.' he pointed out.

'Very considerably.' Newman agreed. 'He must be very short of manpower now. Maybe the only solution is for us to storm Black Ridge, find out what's really going on inside that place.'

'Under no circumstances.' snapped Tweed. 'He'd immediately inform the police. We'd be arrested and no longer free to do anything.'

Tweed's right.' said Alvarez, speaking for the first time. 'I suspect he may have one or two top men in his pocket. That we don't do. By the way, I was able to get a buddy to sneak out a copy of the report on the examination of the juggernaut stopped at the roadblock. The time when the driver was killed in the shoot-out.'

'Did it reveal anything?' Tweed asked.

'Yes. Traces of a new incredibly powerful explosive called Xenobium. The scraping samples were sent to Washington - experts there came up with the findings.'

'I thought you'd lost all touch with Washington.' Paula commented.

'Even when I'm sent to Siberia' - Alvarez grinned at her - 'I have buddies who will do me favours. Advantage of being with the CIA a long time.'

'What are they doing about that?' demanded Tweed.

'Sweet nothing. Moloch is manufacturing explosives for the government at his Des Moines plant. Checkmate. Oh, maybe I ought to confess - they say it's good for the soul.'

'Confess to what?' Paula was curious.

'Back at Moss Landing I saw a couple of hostiles with guns creeping up on Marler from behind him. They weren't too professional. They moved close together. I came up behind them, shot them in the head, shoved the remnants into the ocean. Don't tell Marler. Why make a big deal out of it?'

This is typical of Alvarez, Paula thought. A naturally modest man, he didn't want to have Marler thanking him.

"There's no doubt, then,' Tweed persisted, 'that the juggernaut had traces of Xenobium - which suggests it had been used to transport a large quantity of the explosive from Des Moines to Black Ridge?'

'No doubt at all,' Alvarez told him.

'Our trip to Moss Landing was worthwhile in more ways than one,' Tweed said in a positive tone. 'We now know there is a second so-called drilling dredger much further north. The twin of the
Baja
.'

Inwardly his heart had dropped at Alvarez's confirmation about Xenobium. He had little doubt the
Kebir
, like the
Baja
, had drilled a giant hole in the seabed, had then inserted and capped a massive bomb. A much larger area of the Californian coast than he had realized was bracketed by potentially enormous explosions.

'Bob,' he said, 'when you spot a quiet public phone box stop the car. I have an urgent call to make.'

At Black Ridge Ethan could hardly contain his joy and excitement. On his personal radio-telephone - which bypassed the main switchboard - he had heard from the skipper of the
Kebir
. The short call had given him the code word which confirmed everything was now operational.

That meant the bomb had not only been buried and capped - but also that the radio transmitter, on top of the bomb and linked to its interior, was in position. Ethan did a little dance, skipping a few steps, then he unlocked the wall safe. Inside, between the two levers, were two switches. One was already depressed, so the radio-transmitter below the Baja on the seabed was operational.

Slowly, Ethan pressed down the second switch. He was almost in a state of ecstasy. He stroked each lever before locking the safe, closing the wall panel which concealed it. Now he only had to wait for the foreshocks predicting an earthquake to increase and he'd pull the levers. There would be a five-minute delay before the signal was transmitted to both bombs. The result? Immediate detonation.

Leaving his office, he hurried to the door which led to the upper chamber. He had constantly to check the recorders, to see when the sinister sharp upturns of the needle on the strong-motion seismograph shot up much higher. As he descended in the elevator he spoke aloud, gleefully.

'Goodbye, Mother...'

* * * *

The following morning after breakfast Tweed was strolling with Paula across the golf links down towards a quiet endless Pacific. They were passing down the same boardwalk Paula had used when she saw a woman floating in under the moonlight. It gave her an odd feeling. Tweed pointed towards the ocean.

'Strange to think that crossing those thousands of miles of sea the first land you would come to would be Japan.'

'I find the thought a little intimidating.' she replied. 'I have been wondering whether Newman was right - that our last resort is to storm Black Ridge.'

'Wouldn't work. I've seen the steel door which leads to the chamber housing the chart recorders. And I told you about the solid steel door in a wall of the chamber, the one which I'm sure leads to an elevator. That will be locked. By the time we reached the chamber - assuming we ever did - the police would have arrived in force. I noticed in Moloch's office his door is very heavy with a strong lock on it. At the first sign we were attacking the place he'd lock himself in and call the police.'

Over to their left in the distance a forest was vaguely silhouetted. The illusion was caused by a dense veil of mist which had drifted in from the ocean. The scene was so beautiful Paula found it hard to realize the terrors they had experienced in this apparent paradise. She looked to her right.

A few hundred yards away Newman was walking with Vanity. She had hold of his arm and they seemed deep in conversation.

'Bob,' Vanity was saying, 'I'm leaving AMBECO.'

'You are?' Newman couldn't conceal his surprise, his alarm. 'Where are you off to?'

'Maybe New York. I've had the offer of a big job there.'

"That means I won't see you again.'

'Does it?'

'I could fly to see you in New York.' he said quickly, encouraged by her response.

'It might be fun. Just the two of us.'

'It would be.' he said with enthusiasm. 'When are you going? I have some unfinished business to clear up with Tweed.'

'I also have to clear up some work for VB. Why don't we keep in touch with each other's movements?'

'Why don't we?'

They had almost reached the ocean and could hear the surge of the surf swishing on the beach, when Tweed swung on his heel, took Paula by the arm, began to stride back up the boardwalk.

'What's happening?' asked Paula.

'We can't wait and wonder any longer. We have to take action. I need to phone Weatherby. I'll have to risk going through the hotel switchboard.'

Paula was accustomed to Tweed's methods. After returning from Moss Landing the previous day he had spent most of his time sitting in his living room, staring into space. She could almost hear the wheels of his brain turning at high speed. At one moment he had picked up a packet of cigarettes Newman had left on the table. Lighting one, he had taken short puffs. Tweed had hardly ever been known to smoke.

He had had all his meals sent in by Room Service. Paula had stayed with him, knowing he was deeply troubled. It had been late when she retired to her own room to go to bed. Tweed had phoned her that morning, had suggested they had breakfast in Roy's. After that, he had said he'd like a walk down to the beach.

Now he was striding up the boardwalk at such a pace she had to hurry to keep up. In the distance she saw Newman watching. He had noticed the speed with which Tweed was returning to the hotel.

'It's strange,' she said, 'looking around at all the golfers travelling around in their carts, playing on the links as though everything was normal. And you have a look on your face which suggests the world is coming to an end.'

'Maybe this part of it is about to do just that...'

Inside his living room he perched on the edge of a couch, pressed buttons on the phone, recalling Weatherby's number from memory. The door bell rang, Paula answered it, and Newman entered. He called back to Vanity in the corridor. 'I'll see you in a few minutes in the lobby.'

'Is that you, Weatherby? Nine o'clock in the morning here, so I reckon it's five in the afternoon there.'

'It is. You sound as though it's something urgent.'

'Sorry to bore you - going over the same ground again. Operator, this is a bad line...' Tweed waited for a voice to reply, for a click which would tell him someone had been listening in. Nothing happened. 'Weatherby, this call is going through a hotel switchboard. I think it's all right but we won't take any chances. I'm talking about Mr Xenobium, an explosive character. You're with me?'

'I am.'

'If two of him were on the seabed out here - at widely separated points - and he blew his top, could they shift the plate?'

"The tectonic plate? Shove it inwards?'

'Exactly.'

"They'd have to be of a magnitude I've not come across.'

'More than ten times the power of Mr Hydrogen.'

'Each gentleman?'

'Yes.'

'That's a frightening amount of power. And yet, I'd have thought it unlikely the plate would move.'

'Even with Ethan directing the scenario?'

For the first time in the high-speed conversation there was a long pause. Tweed waited. Then Weatherby came back on the line.

'If Ethan is controlling the project I'd be very worried. He might manage it. Especially if a real quake was imminent.'

'Thank you.'

Tweed put down the phone. He looked at Newman and asked his question.

'What did that poor Standish twin say to you when you hauled her out of the water at that cove below Nansidwell?'

'Water was coming out of her mouth. She had trouble speaking. But I caught what she said. "Quack. Quack."'

'What she was trying to say was, "Quake. Quake." She was trying to warn you about an earthquake.'

'Well, I'll be damned.'

'Let's hope all of us aren't. Now I must call Mrs Benyon. I don't think we have much time left.'

Tweed pressed more buttons, again recalling the number from memory.

'Mrs Benyon? This is Tweed. Angelo, to use the code word we agreed so you know it's me speaking.'

'You have a very distinctive voice, Mr Tweed. I'd have known it was you,' she replied in a vigorous tone.

'We are visiting Black Ridge. Can you pack in one hour? Good. We'll pick you up about one hour from now.'

'I'm already packed. I was moving back to my old house - to get away from Black Ridge.'

'Stay where you are. We'll call for you. Lock all doors. Let no one except myself in. Excuse me, I'm in a rush.'

Tweed stood up, clenched his hands. He looked at Newman again.

'Have you packed ready for instant departure? Have you told the others to do the same thing when I called you late last night?'

'Yes to both questions. What's this nonsense about going to Black Ridge? You turned down the idea of storming the place.'

'I'm going to see Moloch. I want to make one last effort - to persuade him to lock up Ethan Benyon. Paula, you can come with me.'

'I'll drive.' Newman said. 'What's the betting Alvarez appears like magic?'

40

When Tweed led the way Alvarez was sitting in the lobby, appearing to read a newspaper. Vanity was walking back and forth, a mobile phone in her hand. Newman went up to her.

'We're on our way to Black Ridge.'