THE CRY OF THE HALIDON BY ROBERT LUDLUM

He walked swiftly into the bathroom and turned the faucets on in the

basin. He pulled the door to within several inches of closing; the

sound of the rushing water was discernible, not obvious. He returned to

where he had been standing and continued to operate the scanner,

reducing the semicircles as the narrow bar reacted, entering in on the

location of the object as he had been taught to do by Hammond.

The only nonstunning surprise was the fact that the scanner’s tiny red

light went on directly above his suitcase, against the wall on a baggage

rack.

The red light indicated that the object was within twelve inches of the

instrument.

He handed Alison the scanner and opened the case cautiously. He

separated his clothes, removing shirts, socks, and underwear, and

placing them-throwing them-on the bed. When the suitcase was more empty

than full, he stretched the elasticized liner and ran his fingers

against the leather wall.

McAuliff knew what to feel for; Hammond had showed him dozens of bugs of

varying sizes and shapes.

He found it.

It was attached to the outer lining: a small bulge the size of a

leather-covered button. He let it stay and, as Hammond had instructed,

continued to examine the remainder of the suitcase for a second, backup

device.

It was there, too. On the opposite side.

He took the scanner from Alison, walked away from the area, and rapidly

“half circled” the rest of the room ‘. As Hammond had told him to

expect, there was no further movement on the scanner’s dial. For if a

transmitter was planted on a movable host, it usually indicated that it

was the only source available.

The rest of the room was clean. “Sterile” was the word Hammond had

used.

McAuliff went into the bathroom; it, too, was safe. He turned off the

faucets and called out to Alison.

“Are you unpacked?” Now why the hell did he say that?

Of all the stupid …

“I’m an old hand at geo trips,” came the relaxed reply.

“All my garments are synthetic; they can wait. I really want to see

that lovely garden. Do hurry.”

He pulled the door open and saw that she was closing the balcony door,

drawing the curtains across the floor-to ceiling glass. Alison Booth

was doing the right thing, he reflected. Hammond had often repeated the

command: When you find a transmitter, check outside sight lines; assume

visual surveillance.

He came out of the bathroom; she looked across at him…. No, he

thought, she did not look at him, she stared at him.

“Good,” she said. “You’re ready. I think you missed most of your

beard, but you’re presentable. Let’s go … luv.”

Outside the room, in the hotel corridor, Alison took’his arm, and they

walked to the elevator. Several times he began to speak, but each time

he did so, she interrupted him.

“Wait till we’re downstairs,” she kept repeating softly.

In the patio garden, it was Alison who, after they had been seated,

requested another table. One on the’opposite side of the open area; a

table, Alex realized, that had no palms or plants in its vicinity. There

were no more than a dozen other couples, no single men or unescorted

women.

McAuliff had the feeling that Alison had observed each couple closely.

Their drinks arrived; the waiter departed, and Alison Booth spoke.

“I think it’s time we talked to each other … about things we haven’t

talked about.”

Alex offered her a cigarette. She declined, and so he lighted one for

himself. He was buying a few seconds of time before answering, and both

of them knew it.

“I’m sorry you saw what you did upstairs. I don’t want you to give it

undue importance.”

“That would be funny, darling, except that you were halfway to

hysterics.”

“That’s nice.”

“What?”

“You said ‘darling.”‘ “Please. May we stay professional?”

“Good Lord! Are you? Professional, I mean?”

“I’m a geologist. What are you?”

McAuliff ignored her. “You said I was … excited upstairs. You were

right. But it struck me that you weren’t.

You did all the correct things while I was fumbling.”

“I agree. You were fumbling…. Alex, were you told to hire me?”

“No. I was told to think twice or three times before accepting you.”

“That could have been a ploy. I wanted the job badly; I would have gone

to bed with you to get it. Thank you for not expecting that.”

“There was no pressure one way or the other about you.

Only a warning. And that was because of your recent husband’s sideline

occupation, which, incidentally, apparently accounts for most of his

money. I say money because it’s not considered income, I gather.”

“It accounts for all of his money, and is not reported as income. And I

don’t for a minute believe the Geophysics Department of the University

of London would have access to such information. Much less the Royal

Society.”

“Then you’d be wrong. A lot of the money for this survey is a grant

from the government funneled through the society and the university.

When governments spend money, they’re concerned about personnel and

payrolls.” McAuliff was pleasantly surprised at himself. He was

responding as Hammond said he would: creating instant, logical replies.

Build on part of the truth, keep it simple…. Those had been Hammond’s

words.

“We’ll let that dubious, American-oriented assessment pass,” said

Alison, now reaching for his cigarettes. “Surely you’ll explain what

happened upstairs.”

The moment had come, thought Alex, wondering if he could carry it off

the way Hammond said: Reduce any explanation to very few words, rooted

in common sense and simplicity, and do not vary. He lighted her

cigarette and spoke as casually as possible.

” There’s a lot of political jockeying in Kingston. Most of it’s petty,

but some of it gets rough. This survey has controversial overtones.

Resentment of origin, jealousies, that sort of thing. You saw it at

Customs. There are people who would kill to discredit us. I was given

that goddamned scanner to use in case I thought something very unusual

happened. I thought it had, and I was right.” Alex drank the remainder

of his drink and watched the girl’s reaction. He did his best to convey

only sincerity.

“Our bags, you mean,” said Alison.

“Yes. That note didn’t make sense, and the clerk at the desk said they

got here just before we did. But they were picked up at Palisados over

two hours ago.”

“I see. And a geological survey would drive people to those extremes?

That’s hard to swallow, Alex.”

“Not if you think about it. Why are surveys made?

What’s generally the purpose? Isn’t it usually because someone-some

people–expect to build something?”

“Not one like ours, no. It’s too spread out over too great an area. I’d

say it’s patently, obviously academic. Anything else would–2’ Alison

stopped as her eyes met McAuliff s.

“Good Lord! If it was anything else, it’s unbelievable!”

“Perhaps there are those who do believe it. If they did, what do you

think they’d do?” Alex signaled the waiter by holding up two fingers for

refills. Alison Booth’s lips were parted in astonishment.

“Millions and millions and millions,” she said quietly.

“My God, they’d buy up everything in sight!”

“Only if they were convinced they were right.”

Alison forced him to look at her. When, at first, he refused, and

glanced over at the waiter, who was dawdling, she put her hand on top of

his and made him pay attention.

“They are right, aren’t they, Alex?”

“I wouldn’t have any proof of it. My contract’s with the University of

London, with countersigned approvals from the Society and the Jamaican

ministry. What they do with the results is their business.” It was

pointless to issue a flat denial. He was a professional surveyor, not a

clairvoyant.

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been primed.”

“Not primed. Told to be on guard, that’s all.”

“Those … deadly little instruments aren’t given to people who’ve only

been told to be on guard.”

“That’s what I thought. But you know something? You and I are wrong,

Alison. Scanners are in common use these days. Nothing out of the

ordinary. Especially if you’re working outside home territory. Not a

very nice comment on the state of trust, is it?”

The waiter brought their drinks. He was humming and moving rhythmically

to the beat of his own tune. Alison continued to stare at McAuliff. He

wasn’t sure, but he began to think she believed him. When the waiter

left, she leaned forward, anxious to speak.

“And what are you supposed to do now? You found those awful things.

What are you going to do about them?”

“Nothing. Report them to the Ministry in the morning, that’s all.”

“You mean you’re not going to take them out and step on them or

something? You’re just going to leave them there?”

It was not a pleasant prospect, thought Alex, but Hammond had been

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