The Power (69 page)

'Good. I want to synchronize the film with the sounds on the tape. And Gaunt also would like to be present. At
long last we are getting somewhere.'

42

Like a general planning a major battle, Mencken stood up
in the front of the Land-Rover he had driven up into the Vosges. He had hired the vehicle before leaving Basle,
anticipating driving over some rough country.

From where he'd parked the four-wheel drive - on the
edge of a small copse of evergreens - he could look down
on the Château Noir, scanning the interior courtyard with
binoculars. In the back two of his men sat carrying
machine-pistols.

'We launch the attack precisely at noon. So synchronize your watches,' Mencken ordered. 'It is now exactly fifteen
minutes to noon. Repeat the instructions I gave you.
Word for word or I'll break your necks.'

'At noon,' Eddie began, reciting by rote, 'I blow open
those gates to let the cars burst into that yard with the
troops they'll be carrying.'

'Hank?' Mencken prodded.

Eddie and Hank were the two men who had been on
the verge of torturing Jennie Blade when Tweed and his
men had stormed into her bedroom at the Hotel Bristol.
Both men were still on Mencken's list for liquidation, but
maybe someone else would do the job for him in the
coming assault.

'At one minute to noon,' reported the tall lean Hank, 'I
neutralize that electric wire running atop the outer wall.
The telescopic ladders are in position—'

'OK,' Mencken interrupted him. He elevated the aerial
on his walkie-talkie. 'Calling Blue, Green, Yellow,

Orange, Brown. Are you in position? Check back in the
sequence I called you . . .'

'So that's it,' Mencken commented when the last team
leader had confirmed. 'Everything really depends on
Johnny,' he remarked, speaking half to himself. 'He's an expert at scaling heights. With a rope and grappling iron
he'll get to the top of that tower -I guess they call it the keep. Armed with machine-pistols he'll dominate all entrances and exits to the château. He'll be way above
everyone. And if
Newman and his amateurs get in your
way, kill 'em. OK.'

Mencken twisted round, stared down at his henchmen.
'So what are you waiting for? Take up your positions -
this is going to be an easy run. Who can stop us? I'll be inside roughing up Amberg by a quarter after noon.' He
glanced up at the clear blue sky as Eddie and Hank hastily
jumped out of the
Land-Rover. 'What a perfect day for a
slaughter. . .'

Earlier, Marler had arrived at the Ballon d'Alsace high up
in the southern Vosges. The controller of the gliding
school, Masson, a large genial Frenchman, was
apologetic.

'My own team has been laid low with this accursed flu. I
felt I could not let you down - especially after the large deposit you paid me.'

'So you didn't let me down? What is the problem?'
Marler enquired genially in French.

'Problem solved. I contacted a Swiss friend who also
runs a gliding outfit. He has sent a Swiss pilot with his own
machine to take you into the heavens.'

Marler had wondered why a Piper Tomahawk, a single-
propeller plane with Swiss markings, was waiting on the
runway. Behind it, attached to the Tomahawk's fuselage,
stretched along the runway was the tow-rope linking it
with the glider which Marler would be flying a long way
north.

'I got the Met report on my bedroom radio,' Marler
told Masson. 'But although it sounded good the data you get is what counts.'

'For a flight to the north? To the Col de la Schlucht, sir?
The wind direction is perfect. At the moment, I must
emphasize. The weather' - Masson shrugged - 'it can
change its mind faster than the most temperamental
woman. But this I am sure you know. It is quite a trip you
plan to make. Now, the Swiss pilot is waiting .. .'

Marler chose a moment when he was alone with the
Swiss to give him instructions which differed from those
he had suggested to Masson the previous day. He wanted
the pilot to tow him considerably further north - closer to
the Col du Bonhomme, and closer to the Château Noir,
an objective he did not mention.

It was cold as Marler settled himself inside the cockpit
of the glider, adjusted his helmet and goggles. Alone - for
Masson had returned to the single-storey admin, cabin -
Marler unzipped his canvas hold-all, swiftly assembled
and loaded the Armalite. Then he loaded the tear-gas
pistol and tucked both weapons by his side in the confined
space of his little world. Round his neck he had slung a
pair of field-glasses.

He tested with his feet the pedals controlling the glider,
especially the rudder which guided the plane once it was turned loose. Satisfied he had done all he could, he raised a hand, dropped it, signalling to the Swiss pilot of the
Tomahawk that he was ready.

The pilot already had his engine tuned up. The revs
increased, Marler saw the Tomahawk begin its take-off
down the runway, the tow-rope linking him to the mother
plane stiffened, elevated above the runway. The glider
moved forward after a brief jerk.

Less than a minute later the Tomahawk was airborne
and so was the glider, Marler glanced at his watch. If he
had timed it properly he would arrive over the Château
Noir just before noon.

While Tweed had been talking to Amberg in his strange
working quarters, pressurizing the Swiss banker, Newman
had stayed by the indoor pool with Paula and Eve. From
the beginning, Jennie, who had accompanied them inside
the château, had sat in a chair near the entrance, well away
from the pool.

Seated with her legs crossed, an elbow perched on them,
she had supported her chin with her right hand while she
appeared to be observing Eve closely as she completed her
lengths in the pool, and later when she sat with Newman,
Paula and Gaunt. Newman had called out for Jennie to
join them but she had smiled and shaken her head. He offered her a drink.

'Orange juice, no ice, would suit me very well, thank you.'

'Jennie seems a bit stand-offish,' Paula remarked to
Newman in a low tone, standing up and joining him as
though stretching her legs. He paused, the drink he was
carrying to Jennie in his hand, replied also in a whisper.

'My impression is something important struck her and
she's mulling it over. Let her be.'

'Struck her?' Paula persisted. 'What do you mean?'

'At some point since we arrived at the chateau and Amberg let us in. Let it rest. I'll make sure Jennie's not
feeling out of it when I give her this drink.'

'Remember to come back sometime,' Paula chaffed
him. 'She is very attractive.'

'Paula!' Gaunt roared at the top of his voice. 'Paula, I
need your company. I always work on the principle that a
man should have two devastatingly sensual women so he
can play one off against the other. Eve is seducing me with
her gorgeous eyes.'

And not just with her eyes, Paula thought when she
saw how Eve had arranged her legs as she sat in full view
of Gaunt. It was shortly after this that Tweed appeared
briefly and spoke to Gaunt.

'Amberg has something to show you in the cinema.
Can you find it? At a lower level, Amberg said.'

'Enjoy the picture show. I suppose it's pornographic
as we're not invited. Let's time you.' Eve looked at her
waterproof Blancpain. 'In ten minutes from now it will
be noon. Tell Walter I shall want lunch ...'

Tweed was not surprised to be shown with Gaunt into a large luxurious cinema by Amberg. There was row upon
row of comfortable seats and the floor slanted down
wards towards a large screen.

'I have set up the tape on a recorder,' Amberg
informed them in his fussy manner. 'I will operate the
projector to show the film. Make yourselves comfort
able. It is air-conditioned, of course.'

'Of course!' Gaunt whispered to Tweed as they
walked together towards a middle row. 'That Yankee millionaire who built this horror wasn't short of a dollar. Damned place reminds me of pictures I've seen in magazines of a pre-Second World War Odeon.'

'I'll take an aisle seat,' Tweed said, glancing back to
where Amberg had retreated to a large projector
mounted on a high dais.

'At least we didn't have to buy a ticket,' Gaunt con
tinued as he settled in a seat next to Tweed. 'Which is a surprise - considering Amberg's love of money.'

'This should be what we have come all this way to see.'

'What happened to Newman?' Gaunt enquired. 'He disappeared on our way down here.'

'Probably gone to the loo.'

Tweed was lying. Newman had taken Tweed aside and
told him he was going outside.

'I think I'd better see how Butler, Nield and Cardon are
getting on with checking the defences.'

Tweed had nodded agreement. He'd also noticed New
man was carrying the hold-all he had kept close to himself
ever since they had arrived inside the château. The hold-all contained the Uzi sub-machine-gun Newman had taken off
the two American thugs who had kidnapped Jennie at the Bristol.

'Time, gentlemen, for the big picture,' Amberg called out with unaccustomed humour.

The lights were switched down. Tweed and Gaunt sat in near darkness. Taking off his glasses, Tweed cleaned them
on his handkerchief, put them on again, looked back once
more to where the vague silhouette of Amberg was
crouched over his projector.

'How on earth does he keep this place clean without any
servants?' Tweed mused.

'He brings in peasants off the lower slopes,' Gaunt told
him. 'Pays them a pittance but in cash. This is France. The
tax man never sees a franc of their earnings, which makes it
all worthwhile - for the
peasants and for Amberg.'

A glaring light flashed on to the screen, white with odd
streaks of black. Tweed leaned forward intently. In the heavy silence he could hear the tape recorder revolving,
spewing out atmospherics. No voices yet.

The light continued to blaze at them. No picture yet.
Tweed checked the running time by the illuminated hands of his watch. Almost noon.

The light continued glaring non-stop. The tape recorder
went on spewing out atmospherics. Tweed stirred
restlessly. It was about time they saw something in the way
of images. He suspected Gaunt was equally irked. Gaunt
took out a cigar, lit it, blew the smoke away from Tweed,
who now had a grim expression.