Santorini by Alistair MacLean

‘Richard Hollison,’ Sir John said. ‘I’ve known you for some years now. I know your reputation for toughness is matched only by your reputation for fairness. Be fair in this case. Admiral Hawkins, as the General has just said, is in a position of having to cope with almost impossible circumstances which, as you are in a position to know better than most, involves making almost impossible decisions. He’s not telling anyone how to run their business. In order to get a message to the President, without anyone in the Government or the Pentagon seeing the message before the President, he elected to bypass the Pentagon and all the standard avenues of communication. Certainly the Pentagon knows it’s already under investigation, but Hawkins didn’t want anyone to know that he was pointing fingers in certain directions. If it is your intention to set a cat among the pigeons or let loose an eagle in the dovecote, you don’t send a postcard in advance announcing your intentions.’

‘Yes, I accept that,’ Hollison said. ‘With weary resignation, I accept it. But don’t ask me to like it.’

‘Like it or lump it,’ the President said, ‘I accept it, too.’ He looked unenthusiastically at the paper before him on his desk. ‘It would appear that this Adamantios Andropulos, who is Hawkins’s temporary guest – I could well imagine that Admiral Hawkins would use the term “guest” even if this unfortunate were clapped in irons in some shipboard dungeon — has an account with a Washington bank, name and address supplied, of some eighteen million dollars, and would we kindly make enquiries to see if he has been disbursing any of this of late and, if so, in what direction. I know this lies well within your capabilities, Richard. Point is, how long will it take?’

‘All depends upon how many false names, how many dud companies, how much of the usual laundering paraphernalia is involved. The villain, if there is a villain, might well have a numbered account in outer Mongolia. Unlikely, I admit, but you take my point. One hour, maybe three. We will not stand upon the order of our going. Excuse me, Mr President. Excuse me, gentlemen.’ Hollison left.

‘The Army and the Marines will be pleased to learn – when they do learn of it — that Admiral Hawkins does not consider them worthy of his regard,’ the President went on. ‘Only the Air Force and the Navy. The Air Force I can, in the circumstances, understand. But it would be interesting to

know why he has deemed the Navy to be deserving of his interests. He gives no indications on that score.’ The President sighed. ‘Maybe he doesn’t even trust me. Or maybe he knows something that we don’t know.’

Sir John said placidly: ‘If that is the case — that he knows something we don’t – I have little doubt that he’ll tell us in the fullness of time.’

The man under discussion in the White House was, at that moment, dwelling on precisely the same subject.

Time’s winged chariot, John. I forget the rest of the quotation but it’s definitely on the wing.’ Leaning back in a comfortable armchair, a glass of frosted lime juice in his hand, Hawkins succeeded only in giving the impression of a man with all the time in the world. ‘So much to do, so little time to do it in. How stands the Ariadne in respect of the rest of this uncaring world?’

‘I think you might say, sir, that the patient is coming along as well as could be expected. Our carpenter is aboard the Angelina, building a cradle for the bomb according to the specifications the Pentagon gave us. There will be two hinged clamps to secure it in even the worst weather which, as you can see for yourself, is the last thing we expect today.’

‘Indeed.’ The Admiral looked through the window of his cabin. ‘The weather is all wrong, John. Considering the possibly apocalyptic and doom-laden task we have on hand, the least we could reasonably expect is high winds, torrential rain, thunder, lightning, tempests, tornadoes and all those other adverse weather conditions that King Lear encountered on his walkabout around the blasted heath. But what do we have? A blistering July sun, a cloudless blue sky and the wine-dark seas without even a ripple to show for themselves. Downright disappointing. Also disappointing, not to say extremely disturbing, is the likelihood that if those zero-wind conditions persist, it’ll take the Angelina a week to get even half way towards the horizon.’

‘I don’t think we have to worry about that, sir. Weather conditions in the Cyclades between early July and mid-September are remarkably predictable. It’s already eleven forty-five. Any minute now the Meltemi, the Etesian wind, will start up from the north-west. During the afternoon it reaches Forces 5 or 6, sometimes even seven. Usually dies away in the evening but it has been known to last all night. The Meltemi will be ideally suited for the Angelina. Those luggers, as Denholm said, are hopeless windward sailors but in this case it will be directly astern of them and carry them down towards the Kasos Strait to the east of the easternmost tip of Crete.’

‘Sounds fine, but, well, even if Montgomery manages to raise this bomber, f/’he manages to cut a hole in the fuselage without blowing us all to kingdom come, if he manages to extract the atom bomb and if he manages to secure it to the Angelina’s cradle, what happens if the thing detonates before he reaches the Kasos Strait?’

‘Then that’s it for Wotherspoon and his crew. For us, the risk is low. I’ve been talking to Dr Wickram about this. He seems convinced of the inherent stability of the hydrogen bomb — after all, he does build the damn things. While he says it would be a hundred per cent certain to go up if an atom bomb exploded alongside it, we mustn’t over-estimate the effects of a more remote explosive shock, even at a distance of a few miles. After all, those bombs did survive the effect of the explosion in the nose of the bomber and the impact of the plane hitting the water at high speed. Besides, the intervening miles of water — we hope there will be those intervening miles – should have a powerfully dampening effect.’

There’ll be no such effect for those aboard the Angelina.

Curtains. What motivates a man like that, John? Obviously, he’s incredibly brave — but, well, is he all right?’

‘If you mean is he off his rocker, then we’re all off our rockers. He’s as sane as you or I. He’s a romantic at heart, a born adventurer; a couple of hundred years ago and he’d have been somewhere on the other side of the world building up the odd empire.’

‘That’s as may be. But it’s still a terrible thought that a man like that should die for us.’

‘He won’t be dying for all of us. I’m going on the Angelina. So is Vincent Van Gelder.’

Hawkins put down his glass and stared at him. ‘Do you know what you’re saying? / know what you’re saying and I think you’ve taken leave of your senses. Are you mad? You and Van Gelder? Quite mad?’

‘Van Gelder insists on coming along. I insist on going. That’s all there is to it.’

‘I absolutely forbid it.’

‘With the deepest respect, Admiral, you’ll forbid me nothing. Did you honestly expect me to leave a job half done? Did you honestly expect me to let him go out there and die alone? I would remind you that I am the captain of this ship and that at sea not even an admiral can take over from me or give orders which I consider to be to the detriment of this vessel.’

‘Mutiny!’ Hawkins waved a dismissive hand at his lime juice. ‘Have we nothing stronger than this?’

‘Naturally.’ Talbot went to the Admiral’s wine cupboard and prepared a drink while Hawkins gazed at a spot on the deck which was about a thousand miles away. ‘A large scotch and water. No ice.’

‘Thank you.’ Hawkins drained almost half the contents. ‘Mutiny, forsooth!’

‘Yes, sir. Can’t hang me from the yard-arm, though. It’s my yard-arm. You haven’t yet met Angelina – Professor I Wotherspoon’s wife, I mean, not the lugger. But you will, I I’ve invited them aboard for lunch. Young, rather lovely, nice I sense of humour and dotty about her husband. She has to be I – dotty, I mean – to do something she clearly doesn’t want I to do, that is to go along from here with her husband and the I bomb on the lugger.’

‘I’m sure I shall be delighted to make her acquaintance.’ Hawkins took another sip of his drink. ‘What’s she got to do with the matter in hand?’

‘She’s not going with the bomb and the lugger. Neither is Wotherspoon, for that matter, or his two crew members. They remain aboard the Ariadne. Wotherspoon, of course, will have to be forcibly restrained, but that’s no problem at all. Van Gelder and I will take the Angelina down through the Kasos Strait. Two small medals will suffice.’

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