The Power (70 page)

The strong light vibrated for a while longer, accom
panied by the recorder's atmospherics. Without warning
the light was turned off. Gaunt blinked, but Tweed had earlier taken the precaution of staring at the floor to keep
his vision. The screen went blank. Tweed jumped up,
made his way along the aisle to where Amberg stood.

'It's blank,' the banker said in a bewildered tone of
voice. 'There's nothing on the film, nothing on the
tape...'

'That's because you've substituted an unused film for
the real one,' Tweed said in a ferocious hiss. 'Same with the tape. Where have you hidden the real ones?'

Then he heard the distant rattle of a machine-pistol and froze. None of his team possessed one. Newman had the
Uzi sub-machine-gun, but Tweed could hear the dif
ference. The Château Noir was under attack by Norton's
murderous professionals.

When Newman had left the château by a rear exit, armed with the Uzi and his Smith & Wesson, his objective had
been to take the high ground - to get inside the keep and
reach its flat roof.

Close to the keep's wall, which sheered above him, he
had reached a closed door inside an alcove when he saw
Butler waving frantically to him. With the Luger in his right hand, Butler was crouched inside and close to the
open doors of the old building used as a garage. He
appeared to be warning Newman for God's sake to keep under cover.

Newman then spotted Nield and Cardon pressed
against the side wall of the building. What the devil was
going on? He suddenly saw a strong rope, knotted at
intervals, hanging down the side of the tower. A climber's
rope.

He glanced upwards in the nick of time. Way above
him on the roof a man was peering down, aiming a
machine-pistol at him. Newman jumped back inside the
alcove as a fusillade of bullets hammered down on the
cobbles only feet from where he had been standing.
They were trapped.

43

Marler's glider had been released from its tow-line some
time before by the Swiss pilot, who had waved and flown
away towards the Ballon d'Alsace. It was a beautiful
sunny day and below him Marler saw the savage summits
and snowbound ravines of the Vosges drifting past.

He had crossed route D417 and the formidable endless
hairpin bends of the Col de la Schlucht. He was
approaching the Château Noir. On the lower slopes of
the map-like landscape spread out beneath him he saw
the tiny figure of a man guiding a snowplough. The
driver waved to the pilot of the glider. Marler briefly
waved back.

He was concentrating on operating the controls. Since
he was deliberately losing altitude he was wary of down-
draughts, sudden gusts of air which could suck him down
without warning. Then he saw it. The massive pile of the
pseudo-medieval castle which was the Château Noir. As
he removed his goggles he was surprised by its vast size.

He checked the time by his watch. Noon. As the
glider continued to lose height he raised his binoculars,
pressed them to his eyes. He frowned as he detected a Land-Rover half-hidden inside a copse of evergreens.
Only one man - behind the wheel - but the vehicle
probably was positioned to give the driver a clear view
down inside the château wall. Not one of ours, he
thought.

Marler continued to swivel his binoculars, focusing
them now on the château which was coming closer every
second. He stiffened as he saw Butler crouched, as
though hiding, inside the entrance to a building. Then he
saw Newman at the base of the keep, saw a burly figure in
a sheepskin on the flat roof of the tower, peering over as
he aimed a machine-pistol. Newman jumped back out of sight as the heavy silence of the Vosges was fractured by the rattle of a hail of bullets.

'You really shouldn't have done that, old man,' Marler
said to himself, addressing the man on the roof of the
keep. He pressed the foot pedals gently. Time for a really smooth glide. This will only take seconds ...'

He heard a muffled explosion. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the wrought-iron gates guarding the entrance
collapse. He did not allow his attention to be diverted
from the task in hand as he reached for the Armalite.

On the roof of the keep the burly man in a sheepskin
was peering over the edge, his machine-pistol reloaded, ready for a fresh burst, when his target reappeared. Confined inside the garage, Butler had fired three shots from his Luger but the range from where he crouched to the
summit o,f the tower was too great.

Praying that the glider would continue on its level
course for a few more seconds, Marler took careful aim.
With his eye glued to the sniperscope attached to his rifle,
he saw the cross-hairs covering the upper back of the
burly thug on top of the keep. Holding his breath, Marler pressed the trigger.

His target jerked upright in a convulsive movement.
The machine-pistol left his hands, dropped to the cobbles far below. He staggered, then fell forward, following his lost weapon, screaming in terror as he plunged down the
side of the keep. His body hit the cobbles with a bone-breaking thud close to the alcove where Newman shel
tered. The corpse lay inert.

Up to this dramatic incident the odds had been heavily in favour of Mencken's assault force. From this moment
they swung decisively the other way.

Newman noticed that the heavy studded wooden door
leading inside the keep was not completely closed. It was
simply stuck. He hammered his shoulder against the
obstacle. It seemed to give a little. He took a deep
breath and thrust against it with all his strength. It burst
open, flying inwards so suddenly he nearly lost his
balance.

Diving inside, gripping the Uzi in both hands, he saw
a flight of stone steps, worn down in their centres,
leading upwards, curving out of sight round a corner. He
began to run up them non-stop, unaware of what was
happening at the front of the château.

At the first rattle of machine-pistol fire Tweed had reac
ted instantly. Grabbing Amberg by the arm, he forced
him to the cinema exit, up the flight of stairs leading into
the main hall. Gaunt, hauling a .455 Colt automatic from
the shoulder holster under his thick sports jacket, took
giant strides, close on their heels.

Entering the hall, Tweed saw Paula, Jennie and Eve -
now wearing winter clothes - appear from the direction
of the swimming pool. With his free arm he waved them
back, a commanding gesture.

'Return to the pool at once. Don't argue. Do as I tell
you. There is great danger.'

Eve and Jennie rushed back into the labyrinth of pas
sages but Paula stayed her ground. From the special
pocket inside her shoulder bag she had whipped out her. 32
Browning.

'I'm staying here with you,' she snapped at Tweed. 'You
are not armed.'

'I am,' Gaunt assured her aggressively.

'We may need someone who can shoot straight,' she told
him.

'What the hell—'Gaunt began.

He never completed his sentence. Tweed, still dragging
a reluctant Amberg, had headed for the main
door. Out
side he could hear the sound of some large machine
approaching. Reaching the door he peered through the tall
Norman window with leaded lights at one side of the door.
The view was not reassuring. Norton - or his henchman -
who had organized the attack knew what he was doing.

The clanking grinding machine proceeding across the
cobbled courtyard towards the door was a huge orange
bulldozer, its massive grab elevated several feet - ready to
batter down the heavy door and open the way for the final
assault. Tweed compelled Amberg to glance through the
window. The Swiss shuddered, tried to get away, but
Tweed had a firm grip on his arm.

'I must go to the swimming pool as well,' Amberg
protested. 'There is a rear exit. I am a banker. . .'

'Surely you want to witness the defence of your own home,' Tweed said grimly, determined to break his nerve.
'You will stay with us in any case.'

'I might be able to shoot the driver,' suggested Gaunt
who had also peered through the window.

'Not a chance, not yet,' Tweed snapped. 'And behind his
cab the driver has several armed men clinging on aboard
the bulldozer. We must wait until it appears in the gap after
it has smashed down the double doors. Then shoot. We
might jam the machine in the doorway, although I don't
issue any guarantees. So, we stand back and wait...'

The one thing which irked Tweed was that he had no
idea what his team outside the château were doing -
assuming they were still alive.

Having disposed of the gunman who had pinned down all
Tweed's men, Marler immediately turned his attention to what was going on at the entrance. His glider was still
airborne but he knew he must soon land or crash - maybe
both. What was happening was taking place in seconds.

He had fired the Armalite from a distance, but now the glider was cruising very close to the chateau, would be
above the courtyard at any moment. Afterwards, if he
survived, Marler hoped to land on the summit of the ridge
close to where the Land-Rover had been parked.

Then he saw the orange bulldozer advancing, the clutch
of armed men hanging on behind the driver's cabin. The
machine was a deadly menace. Marler took a dangerous chance, lost more height, and was now gripping the tear-gas pistol with a spare shell in his other hand. The wings seemed to almost skim the roof of the keep, although the
machine was higher. Marler looked down.

The bulldozer had covered two-thirds of the distance
between the ruined gates and the porch entrance to the château.
His arm rested firmly on the edge of the fuselage
of the glider as he pressed the trigger. The tear-gas shell
was aimed for the glass window in front of the driver's
cabin, smashed it to pieces, exploded inside the cabin.
Marler had reloaded, fired again at the rear of the
machine where the armed men were hanging on.

The outcome was devastating. Overcome with the
fumes the driver lost all control. The bulldozer swung
through an arc of a hundred and eighty degrees. In his
panic the driver pressed his foot on the wrong pedal. The
machine rocketed over the cobbles at speed, spilling its
passengers, who were disabled by the second tear-gas
shell. The bulldozer thundered towards the outer wall,
hurtled into it with tremendous impact, crushing the cabin and the driver inside it.

At that moment a Citroen drove in through the gate
way, crammed with armed men. Cardon, Nield and But
ler had emerged from under cover. The Citroen driver,
startled by the disaster to the bulldozer, skidded to a fatal halt. Cardon carefully lobbed a grenade. It landed under
the petrol tank of the Citroen. Before any of its pas
sengers could get out the petrol tank exploded. There was
a fountain of flame and Newman saw its occupants
incinerated in the ferocious heat.