Deadlock tac-5

by Colin Forbes

  The bodies – two of them. I checked their pockets. They were police. They're dead. What do we do with them?'

  'Later.' Klein's tone was abrupt. They'll come in useful.'

  Marler had disappeared. Leaving the elevator, he had made straight for the outside platform. Carrying his bag, he walked slowly round, close to the rail, staring down. No sign of hostile activity. Yet. The restaurant windows – plus their height – would have muffled the shots from the police launches at the end of the basin.

  He didn't know it but inside the launches the river police were eating a quick meal prior to their turn to patrol the Maas. He continued his tour until he reached a point in the shadows out of sight of anyone. Opening his bag, he assembled his rifle, screwed on the infra-red telescopic sight and shoved the stock hard against his shoulder.

  He was looking down into the deserted park. Small shrubs came up so close in the lens he felt he could reach out and touch them. Holding rifle and bag below rail level, he completed his circuit of the platform and stood back from the entrance to the interior.

  The first elevator load had gone down, the cage had returned, more customers and staff were being escorted inside. They moved silently, slowly, fearfully and shuffled their feet.

  Klein checked his watch. The marine barracks would have been destroyed. Prussen would be on his way to Euromast- and soon the alarm would be raised. The crowd of diners hurrying down the steps outside would be seen, would find someone to tell about their ordeal.

  He walked out on to the platform past Marler and peered over the edge. From Legaud's control van a man was reeling out a cable. He had already reached the top step and as Klein watched he disappeared inside the building. Communications were almost established.

  The cable would be plugged into the phone system at ground level. At the right moment Legaud would elevate the van's antennae. Klein would have local communication through the van's amplifiers, iong distance via radio. Faltz came out on to the platform.

  'Those bodies – the two policemen – I leave them where they are?'

  'No. Haul them out here. Dump them near the rail. Later we shove them over the edge – just to show them we mean business.'

  47

  Tweed sat beside Van Gorp who was driving with Paula and Newman in the rear seats. They were on their way to Euromast. Paula noticed Tweed kept smoothing his hair with his hand, a sure sign he was uneasy.

  'Something wrong?' she asked.

  'He'll have synchronized the whole operation. That's the way his mind works – and we're up against a brilliant mind – diabolical but brilliant.'

  'Synchronized?' she queried.

  That horrible massacre at the marines barracks. Something else will have happened. It's going to be an ordeal of pure terror.'

  Van Gorp picked up the car phone as it began buzzing. Listening for a few moments, he said he understood, that he was on his way. His expression was grim in the mirror Paula saw. The Dutchman accelerated as he spoke.

  'You were right all along, Tweed. He's seized control of the Euromast. Or someone has.'

  'It will be Klein. How detailed was the report?'

  'Garbled fragments – as so often happens warning a crisis is in the making. A large group of men – and one woman – invaded Euromast. Armed with machine-pistols, they think. Everyone in the restaurant was bundled outside…'

  'You said you had two of your men in that restaurant,' Tweed recalled.

  A bitter note entered Van Gorp's voice. They tried to repel the intruders. They were shot in the back…'

  'Something odd there,' Newman interjected. 'Why didn't they hold the people dining as hostages – to guarantee their own safety? Normal procedure…'

  'Klein isn't normal,' Tweed replied grimly. 'I suspect we'll find he already has hundreds of hostages – aboard those ships waiting offshore. We'll soon know, but I fear the worst.'

  Van Gorp picked up the phone again, pressed a number and then spoke in Dutch. The conversation lasted several minutes and he reduced speed. Replacing the phone he glanced in the mirror and pulled in to the kerb alongside the Maas.

  'We're close to Euromast. We walk the rest of the way. The area is cordoned off. Too dangerous to drive closer.'

  The first thing Tweed noticed as they walked along the pavement by the river was the silence, the absence of any sound of traffic. They passed several couples hurrying in the opposite direction. None of them were speaking. They glanced at Tweed and his companions. One man with a woman stopped as though about to speak to Van Gorp who was on the outside. The woman tugged at his sleeve and he walked on without saying anything.

  Out on the river three barges were turning in mid-stream very slowly. Tweed watched them as they headed for a large basin on the far shore. A police launch, blue light flashing, came up behind them, at speed, then cut its engine and began drifting with the current.

  Soon they were quite alone as they approached the large park below Euromast. No traffic on the river, none on the road, no more pedestrians. An uncanny silence which had a sinister atmosphere descended on the area. In the distance a wide red and white tape was stretched across the road, extending over the sidewalk.

  'What is happening?' Tweed asked.

  Two cordons have been set up – one there in front of us and another half a mile further back. The whole area is being sealed off – including the river. Traffic helicopters have been forbidden to fly anywhere near the tower. We are moving into a zone of total isolation.'

  **

  'What is the position, Inspector?' Van Gorp asked a small wiry man who appeared to be in charge of the police gathered by the barricade.

  'A large group of men have seized Euromast – armed men. You should not proceed beyond the tape, I suggest. A temporary HQ has been set up in a building on West Zeedijk at the end of Parkhaven.'

  'What is Parkhaven?' Tweed asked.

  The inspector glanced at Van Gorp. 'It's all right,' the Dutchman replied. This is Tweed, Commander of the Anti-Terrorist Squad in London. He probably knows more about those people inside Euromast than any of us.'

  'Parkhaven is the docking basin Euromast overlooks.'

  'And why should we not proceed beyond the tape?' Tweed pressed. 'Has there been trouble already?'

  'Two of my men made their way towards the entrance steps. A man inside the entrance fired two bursts of machine-gun fire. Warning bursts, I believe. He could hardly have missed had he intended to hit them. Since then there has been an unnerving silence.'

  'Klein tactics,' Tweed whispered to Van Gorp.

  'So how do we reach this HQ? Quickly. Even at some risk,' Van Gorp said firmly.

  'You could take that path across the park and past the church. But keep an eye on the tower. We don't know what maniacs we may be dealing with.'

  'I was told all the diners and staff were herded out. Is that correct?'

  'Yes, which is rather strange. Almost as though they cleared the decks for action, so to speak.'

  'They did,' Tweed told him.

  'I had two men inside the restaurant,' Van Gorp said stiffly to the Inspector. 'I know they were shot. Any further news?'

  'None. We questioned a number of the diners – a police patrol car happened to be cruising close by and saw something was not right. The descriptions of the weapon used differ – but we believe it must have been a 9 mm Heckler and Koch or a Uzi…'

  'I see.' Van Gorp's tone was clipped. He turned to Tweed. 'I am forgetting my manners. This is Inspector Jansen. Now, we'd better make our way across the park.'

  'I will come with you,' Jansen said, 'then I can take you to the HQ. We shall not be very close to Euromast but we shall be exposed if there is a marksman up there on that platform.'

  'There probably will be,' Tweed remarked. 'The best in Europe. So I suggest we don't talk, that we spread out.'

  'Several rifles have arrived but none of our marksmen yet.'

  'I can use a rifle,' Newman said.

  'And,' Tweed added, 'he's had militar
y training and was a crack shot at Bisley.'

  'Give him a rifle,' Van Gorp ordered. 'I will take full responsibility. This situation is unprecedented…'

  There was a very brief delay while Jansen fetched a rifle from a van, handed it to Newman, who examined it by the light of a street lamp. He checked the weapon to make sure it was unloaded, tested the mechanism, accepted a magazine from Jansen and nodded.

  'I'm ready.'

  The walk across the park along the winding footpath was an eerie experience. Jansen led the single file and Tweed had Paula in front of him so he could throw her to the ground if shooting started. Although a distance away the Euromast seemed to loom over them. The lights were on in the restaurant windows but there was no sign of life.

  Newman walked on the grass a few yards away from the file and closer to the tower. He held the rifle across his chest, the muzzle slanted upwards. He glanced ahead frequently but most of the time he was watching the tower. He didn't expect to hit a target if an emergency arose but he knew he could fire with close enough accuracy to hit above the rail, to force any marksman to keep his head down.

  The silence amid the grass and the trees became more oppressive. The path seemed to wind forever. Newman was relieved when his night vision became accustomed to the darkness. He thought he saw movement, stopped instantly, took the aiming position, his finger round the trigger. He resumed walking slowly when he decided it had been an illusion.

  They left the park, crossed a wide street by a church, made their way round a complex and deserted intersection of streets, then Jansen led them to the back of a building. A uniformed policeman stood on guard. They went inside.

  They were climbing a stone staircase when Tweed asked Jansen the question.

  'Was a girl seen among the intruders?'

  'Yes, quite young. Early twenties. Had her face masked with a coloured handkerchief. Again, descriptions varied to the point of futility.'

  'Was she also carrying a gun?'

  'No one asked that question. I think one of the guests who were thrown out would have mentioned it. They mentioned a girl – as though surprised. These days!'

  'Could she have been taken in under duress?'

  'I don't think so. One witness – a woman, of course -said she matched in as though she owned the place.'

  'Why are you so interested in this girl?' Newman asked.

  He had caught up with Tweed on one side while Paula joined them on the other. Jansen was climbing nimbly higher to yet another floor.

  'I am thinking of Lara Seagrave, the girl I cross-examined in Smiths' tea-room in Paris, the girl whose bitch of a step-mother-Lady Windermere -I visited in London. The girl The Parrot was following all the way from Marseilles, watching her take photos of different ports. The girl whom, I'm convinced, set out on this thinking it was all an adventure. Why Klein still needs her I can't imagine.'

  They had at rived. Jansen paused before a metal fire door which was guarded by a uniformed policeman. He waited until they had reached him before he issued his warning.

  'We're going out on to the roof. Crouch low, move slowly. We don't want those people inside Euromast to spot us – someone may be scanning the whole area with binoculars…'

  The roof was a flat concrete surface surrounded by waist-high walls. Stooping low, Tweed followed Jansen. The silhouettes of a large number of men were scattered in different positions. The majority close to the wall nearest Parkhaven.

  Jansen led him to where a tripod had been erected. A telescope was mounted on the tripod. Further along the wall stood a second tripod supporting a cine-camera with a zoom lens. A man crouched behind the camera.

  'This observation point is the nearest we can get,' Jansen explained. 'The telescope gives us a clear view of the platform.'

  'But hasn't there been any communication from them?' Tweed asked, squatting on his haunches. 'And how would you respond?'

  'No communication at all.' Jansen sounded depressed. 'Except when a couple of my men approached the tower and they reacted with a machine-gun burst. As a warning to keep away. Since then an awful silence.'

  'Klein tactics,' Tweed repeated, turning to Van Gorp who was crouched beside him. 'It's the prelude – to unnerve us.'

  'Answering your second question,' Jansen went on, 'we have brought in a police van with an amplified speaker. Parked behind an empty truck to shield it from the tower. No reaction to that – except for a call to speak to someone in high authority.'

  Tweed looked at Van Gorp who flexed his hands before he spoke. 'I'd better go out there and try to get Klein talking – if he is up there.'

  'Oh, he's up there, all right.' Tweed's tone was brisk. 'But I think I'm the one to attempt it. I'm beginning to know how his mind works. I've had secret reports on his background and character. Before I go I'd like to call my colleague, Blade, at the airport, arrange for the SAS team to be brought near here. They'll need quarters on their own – with no contacts with the police.'

  'We may have just what you need,' said Jansen. Til show you…'

  He waited while Tweed took a quick look through the telescope. The platform appeared deserted. He swung the lens a few degrees and the restaurant came into view. All the lights were still on but over a number of windows there were hangings obscuring the interior. Either curtains had been drawn or they'd used table cloths. Figures moved beyond the clear windows and vanished.

  'Don't go,' said Paula. 'It's too dangerous, Klein is crazy.'

  'Maybe a little, but I'm going.'

  'And I'm coming with you,' Newman said, still holding the rifle. He gave Paula a wink of reassurance.

  The quarters Jansen suggested for use by the SAS team were one floor down, at the back of the building. Four rooms – with a bathroom – separated from the rest of the building. Over the windows blinds were drawn down. Tweed agreed they were suitable, Jansen produced a street plan, marked the route the team should follow, said he would send a motor-cycle outrider to escort them and then left Tweed alone to use the phone perched on a rough wooden table.

  'Blade,' he said when he got through, 'situation here at Euromast serious. An armed group has taken possession. No, they didn't take hostages – just threw everyone out. A motor-cycle outrider is coming to guide you here with your team. I'll give him a note signed by me. It will include the word Olympus.'

  'I'll get the lads geared up ready now. Somewhere we can wait? Discreetly?'

  'Attended to.'

  'Be with you shortly…'

  Tweed sat motionless at the table for a few moments, thinking of his approach when he reached the tower. Then he dismissed the idea. Always best not to rehearse m advance. Play it off the cuff. He went outside where Newman was waiting tor him.

  Tweed walked with a steady tread beyond the barrier cordoning off Parkhaven. He couldn't remember when he'd last slept but now the moment of crisis had arrived fresh adrenalin was pumping through his veins.

  Hatless, he wore an overcoat, both hands in view, arms swinging gently. He was damned if he was going out there with his hands in the air. As he headed towards the police radio car parked behind the truck he slowed his pace, studying everything in sight at ground level.

  Below Euromast the four rows of barges berthed alongside each other were still there, the barges he'd noticed looking down from the platform. The atmosphere was weirdly silent and deserted. No traffic movement on the Maas. He glanced at the three police launches moored at the end of the basin. From inside motionless figures watched him as he kept up his pace. He reached the police van.

  Through the open window he saw a man behind the wheel on the side furthest from the tower. He leant his forearms on the edge of the window.

  'Let me have the mike. I'm here with the authority of Inspector Jansen…'

  'I know. You're Tweed. He's called through over the radio.' He handed over the microphone and Tweed saw it had a long cord. That was helpful. He gripped the mike, turned, walked to the foot of the steps and looked up. Two figures peered at him
over the rail from the platform, one aiming a rifle, both masked.

  Newman braced himself against the wall of the building where he had stayed when Tweed went into the open. His rifle was aimed at the waiting figures three hundred feet above.

  Klein stood by the rail alongside Marler who held his rifle aimed at the figure below. Klein had a pair of night-glasses trained on the tiny figure at the base of the tower. The face was clear in the lenses and Klein sucked in his breath.

  'God! What's he doing down there? How could he have got here so fast?'

  'Who is it?' Marler enquired in a languid tone.

  Tweed. The last man on God's earth I expected to confront.'

  'Who is Tweed?'

  'Deputy Director of the British Secret Service. One of the most wily and dangerous men in Europe. Time to scare the guts out of the bastard.' Klein switched on the throat microphone linked to Legaud's command vehicle and its amplifiers.

  'Who are you?' Klein demanded in English.

  His voice blasted out of the amplifiers on the roof of Legaud's van. Distorted, it had the weird echo of a ghost as it carried to Newman, to the watching police on top of the HQ building.

  'My name is Tweed. I have the full authority of the Dutch police to talk to you. We want you to evacuate Euromast at once. And if your gunman pulls the trigger you are both dead within seconds.'

  His own voice, broadcast by the speaker on top of the radio van, sounded normal, calm, as though this was a normal situation.

  'Do not threaten me. You hold the lives of thousands of people in your hands.'

  The voice was confident, chilling. Almost as though Napoleon were issuing orders for the battle of Austerlitz. Klein raised his other hand, holding a black box.

  'Do you know what I am holding? The radio control to liquidate all those people aboard the ships waiting outside the Maas. If you shot me my thumb would depress a button – sending out a signal which would detonate the sea-mines.'