The Apocalypse Watch (86 page)

“This place must have been built over three hundred years ago.”

“With an elevator?” interrupted Dietz, grinning.

“That came much later,” replied Bergeron, “but your colleague is correct. This plant, with crude but serviceable viaducts, was built by the Beauvais dynasty for the purpose of capturing the water and sending it out to their fields and gardens. That was in the early sixteen hundreds.”

The enormous old square elevator was the sort found in warehouses or freight depots where heavy equipment must be sent from one floor to another. It creaked and stuttered its way up, metal abrasively rubbing against metal, until it reached the top floor. Jacques opened the heavy vertical panel with such obvious effort that Captain Dietz helped him shove it up. Instantly revealed was the imposing figure of a general in the uniform of the army of France. He spoke quickly, urgently, to the Deuxième officer. Jacques frowned, then nodded, muttered a few words in French, and walked rapidly away with the soldier.

“What did they say?” asked Drew, turning to Karin as the four of them walked out of the elevator. “They rattled too fast for me, but I got something about ‘terrible news.’ ”

“Basically, that was it,” answered De Vries, squinting in the dim light at the two Frenchmen down the darker brick hallway. “The general said he had terrible news and had to speak with Jacques privately.”

Suddenly there was a desperate cry. “
Mon Dieu, non! Pas vrai!
” It was followed by the mournful wail of a damaged man in pain. As one, the N-2 unit rushed into the shadowed corridor.

“What
happened
?” asked Karin in French.

“I will answer so our friend, Drew, will understand,” said Bergeron, slouched, his back against the brick, tears falling down his cheeks. “Claude was assassinated twenty minutes ago in the Deuxième underground parking area.”

“Oh, my
God
!” cried De Vries, stepping forward and gripping Jacques’s arm.

“How could it
happen
?” roared Latham. “That place is tighter than a drum—with your own
people
!”

“The Nazis,” whispered the Deuxième agent, his words choked. “They’re everywhere.”

T
he large rectangular window looked out over the vast expanse of the Beauvais reservoir. They were in the huge office complex belonging to the manager of the waterworks and his staff, who had been temporarily displaced by the military commander overseeing the fortifications. The general was nonetheless intelligent and sensitive enough to seek the advice of the civilian manager and decline to use his desk. Jacques Bergeron had been on the telephone to Paris for over fifteen minutes, intermittently catching his breath and checking his tears.

The general had spread a map and a stack of photographs over an enormous table in front of the window, and, using a pointer, was describing in detail his defenses. However, the old soldier was aware that his audience of four was not totally attentive, eyes darting and ears listening to the Deuxième officer at the desk. Finally, Jacques hung up the phone, rose from the chair, and walked to the table.

“I’m afraid it is far worse than we imagined,” he said quietly, breathing deeply to find his own control. “In a macabre way, perhaps it’s best that Claude was cut down where he was if it had to be. For if he had survived, he would have found his beloved wife shot to death at their home.”

“
Goddammit!
” shouted Drew, then lowered his voice to a guttural murmur. “No quarter,” he said, “no quarter at all for those sons of bitches! We see, we kill; we find, we kill.”

“There is something else, and I consider it totally irrelevant, for Claude Moreau was my mentor, my instructor-father in so many things, but it is a fact. By the order of
the President of France, I am the temporary director of the Deuxième and must return to Paris.”

“I know you never wanted it this way, Jacques,” said Latham, “but congratulations. You wouldn’t have been chosen if you weren’t the best. Your mentor trained you well.”

“It doesn’t matter. Regardless of what happens in the next sixteen hours, I will resign and find other work.”

“
Why
?” asked Karin. “You could be made the permanent director. Who else is there?”

“You’re very kind, but I know myself. I am a follower, a very good follower, but I am not a leader. One must be honest with oneself.”

“I
hate
what’s happened,” said Latham, “but we’ve got to go back to work. You owe it to Claude and I owe it to Harry. Start from the beginning, General,” he went on. “We temporarily lost you.”

“I must return to Paris,” repeated Bergeron. “I don’t want to, but those are my orders—orders from the President—and I must obey them. Orders must be obeyed.”

“Then do so,” said Karin gently. “We’ll do our best, Jacques.”

“Right. You go down to Paris and stay in touch with London and Washington,” said Latham firmly. “But, Jacques—keep us informed.”

“
Au revoir, mes amis
.” The Deuxième officer turned and walked disconsolately out of the room.

“Where were we, General?” asked Drew, leaning over the table, Dietz and Anthony on either side, Karin across from them.

“These are the armed personnel I’ve dispersed throughout the area,” began the old soldier, pointing at the huge map of the reservoir and its surrounding woods. “From long years of experience, including in Southeast Asia, where the enemy’s guerrilla forces presented similar concerns for penetration, I cannot think of any additional defenses we haven’t considered. A squadron of fighter planes is on an alert at an air base thirty kilometers from here, and they are fully armed. We have over twelve hundred troops throughout the woods and the roads, all units in
constant contact with one another, as well as twenty anti-aircraft emplacements with instant trajectory guidances. Seventeen bomb squads have been working without rest, studying the banks, searching for time-set explosives. There is also a patrol boat with chemical-analysis equipment crisscrossing the areas nearest the major flows. At the first signs of toxicity, the sluice gates will send signals, the valves on alert for alternative sources from other districts.”

“If that’s necessary,” asked Drew, “how long will it take for the alternative sources to start flowing?”

“According to the manager, who will be back shortly, the longest time on record was four hours and seven minutes in the middle thirties—due to machinery failure. However, the first major problem is a drastic lowering of water pressure everywhere, followed by initial massive impurities from the unused flows.”

“Impurities?” Karin broke in.

“Nothing like toxic poisoning; some dirt or mud, or pipe residue. Perhaps enough to cause upset stomachs, vomiting, diarrhea, but not fatal. The potential
real
danger is with the underground hydrants; the pressure might preclude their use in case of fires.”

“Then the potential crisis has geometric proportions,” said De Vries. “Because if Water Lightning somehow, some way
does
succeed, and your solutions are activated, the pressure still goes down and fires could be set all over Paris. Günter Jäger used the phrase ‘fire and lightning’—
fire
and lightning. It could be significant. If I remember my history, Hitler’s last order to his evacuating commanders was ‘Burn Paris down!’ ”

“All too true, madame, but I ask you, and I’ll ask you again after we take a tour of our defenses, can you really believe this Water Lightning can succeed?”

“I don’t want to, General.”

“What about London and Washington?” said Latham. “Moreau … Moreau told me you were in touch with both.”

“You see the bald man at the desk over there with the red telephone?” The old soldier gestured at an army major
across the room, a red telephone at his ear. “He is not only my most trusted adjutant, he is my son. The baldness comes from his mother’s side, poor fellow.”

“Your
son
?”

“
Oui
, Monsieur Latham,” replied the general, smiling. “When the Socialists took over the Quai d’Orsay, many of us in the military practiced nepotism for our own protection until we discovered that they weren’t such bad fellows.”

“How very Gallic,” said Karin.

“Again, too true, madame.
La famille est éternelle
. However, my hairless son is an exceptional officer, for which I thank my side of the family—we are extremely astute. He is also on the telephone with either London or Washington right now. The lines are constantly open, a single button changes the capital.” The major hung up the phone and the general called out. “
Adjutant-Major
, is there anything new?”

“
Non, mon général
,” answered the stern-faced, bald major, turning to reply to his father. “And I would appreciate it if you would not continue to ask the same question. I will inform you when there is anything unexpected or a suggested change in our strategies.”

“He’s also impudent,” said the general softly, “again his mother’s influence.”

“My name’s Latham,” said Drew, interrupting.

“I know who you are, sir. My name is Gaston.” The major rose from his desk and extended his hand to each member of the N-2 unit. The hands were shaken awkwardly, as if the command had been shifted from father to son. “I must tell you that the general has deployed extraordinary defenses, as only a man with his experience in incursion and infiltration can, and we are all grateful. He has been through such campaigns and we have not, at least I haven’t, but as technology has changed, so the rules have changed. London and Washington have upgraded their fortifications, as we have, employing the newest electronics.”

“Like what specifically?” asked Drew.

“Infrared sensor beams throughout the woods as well
as webs of spun plastic matting along the roads that, when penetrated, activate clouds of vapor immobilizing everyone in the vicinity—naturally, our troops have masks. In addition, radar and radio signals that flare out over the trees on all sides, capable of intercepting missiles as far away as two hundred kilometers; they trigger our own heat-seeking countermissiles—”

“Like the Patriots in D-Storm,” Captain Dietz interrupted.

“When they worked,” said the lieutenant, barely audible.

“Precisely,” agreed the major, in his enthusiasm not hearing the subordinate officer.

“What about the reservoir itself?” inquired Karin.

“What about it, madame? To anticipate you, if there are scores of huge drums filled with toxins, and attached to pre-set explosives to blow them apart, our divers have not found them. They’ve searched, I assure you, and considering the sheer mass of metal required, the underwater sonar would have. Finally, even in normal times the reservoir is constantly under observation, the perimeters fenced, penetration instantly known. How could it happen?”

“It obviously couldn’t, I’m just trying to think of everything. You’ve undoubtedly done so already.”

“This is not
necessarily
so,” disagreed the old general. “You are all accomplished intelligence personnel, and you know the enemy, you’ve been dealing with him. Once—before Dien Bien Phu—a spy whose cover was as an accountant, which he actually was in Lyons, told me that the antigovernment forces could afford far greater firepower than Paris acknowledged. Paris scoffed and we lost a country.”

“I don’t see the relevance,” said Karin.

“Perhaps there is none, but you may see something we’ve missed.”

“That’s what Moreau said to me,” interjected Drew.

“I know. We talked. So let us get into an open truck and each of you—all of you—see for yourselves. Dissect
us, pick us apart, as you Americans say, find our flaws, if they exist.”

The “tour” throughout the forests, the fields, and the adjacent roads was not only exhausting in the roofless truck that seemed to gravitate to every ditch and minor gully, but it took over three hours. Everyone made notes, in the main affirmative; only the two commandos were negative, in terms of underbrush incursion.

“I could send fifty men on their bellies through a sector of this foliage, taking out the soldiers and putting on their uniforms,” exclaimed Captain Dietz. “This is nuts!”

“And once you get into the uniforms,” added Lieutenant Anthony, “you can waste away your flanks and create a big, wide boulevard.”

“The roads are protected by plastic webs, they set off alarms!”

“You freeze ’em with cold nitro sprays, General,” said Dietz. “They close down electrical impulses.”

“
Mon Dieu
.…”

“Let’s face it, guys,” said Latham when they were back at the waterworks, “your theories may have merit, but you’re thinking too small. There wouldn’t
be
fifty men, there’d have to be five hundred to be effective. See what I mean?”

“The general asked for criticisms, Mr. Latham,” replied Captain Dietz. “Not solutions.”

“Let’s look at the photographs,” said Drew, approaching the table and seeing that they had been spread out in rows in some sort of precise order.

“I have arranged them from top to bottom as determined by the farthest distance from the reservoir to the nearest,” explained the general’s son. “All were taken by infrared cameras at relatively low altitudes according to aerial radar, and where suspicious images occurred, they were repeated frequently, no more than a few hundred feet above the objects.”

“What are these?” asked Dietz, pointing at several dark circles.

“Farm silos,” replied the major. “To make certain, we had them examined by the local police.”

“And those?” said Karin, her index finger on a series of three photographs depicting long, dark rectangular images with muted lights on one side. “They look dangerously like missile sites.”

“Railroad stations. You’re seeing the lamps under the overhang, next to the tracks,” answered Gaston.

“And these?” Latham used the pointer and touched a photograph that showed the outlines of two large airplanes on what appeared to be a field off the major runway of a private airport.

“Aircraft purchased by Saudi Arabia, awaiting transport to Riyadh. We checked the Ministry of Export and found everything to be in order.”