The Golden Gate (12 page)

'I wouldn't bring a blush to the Hippocratic cheek. That guaranteed, would you consider it unethical to help put Branson behind bars?"
'Is that guaranteed too?1
'No.'
'Count on me. What do you want done?'
'We have a lady photographer with us who is young, rather beautiful, by the unlikely name of April Wednesday.'
'Ha!' O'Hare brightened considerably. 'The green-eyed blonde.'
'Indeed. I want her to take a message ashore, if that's the word, for me and bring me back an answer within a couple of hours. I propose to code this message, film it and give you the spool. It's about half the size of a cigarette and I'm sure you can easily conceal it in one of the many tubes and cartons you must carry about with you. Anyway, no one questions a doctor's integrity.'
'Don't they, now?' O'Hare spoke with some feeling.
There's no hurry. I'll have to wait till Messrs Milton, Quarry and Hendrix have been escorted off the bridge. By which time, too, I expect that the trusty Mr Hagenbach will have arrived from wherever he has been lurking.'
'Hagenbach? You mean this old twister -'
'You are referring to my respected employer. Now, this is just an ambulance. Apart from your usual medical kit, heart unit, oxygen kit to stitch together the misguided who step out of line, I don't suppose you carry anything much more sophisticated.' O'Hare shook his head.
'So you don't have any radiological gear or clinical investigative equipment and most certainly not operational facilities, even if you did have an anaesthetist, which you haven't. I suggest then that, when Miss Wednesday takes most painfully ill in about an hour or so, you diagnose something that may demand, or may not demand-doctors can't take chances - immediate hospital diagnosis and possible surgery. Something like a grumbling appendix or suspected peritonitis or such-like. Don't ask me.'
'I wouldn't.' O'Hare looked at Revson with some disfavour. 'You seem to be unaware that even the rawest intern, no matter how damp behind the ears, can diagnose appendicitis with his hands, figuratively, in his pockets.'
'I am aware. But I'm damned if I could do it. And I'm pretty certain that no one else on this bridge could do it either."
'You have a point. Right. But you'll have to give me fifteen to twenty minutes' notice-before I call in Branson or whoever. The odd job or two to induce the proper symptoms. No danger.'
'Miss Wednesday has just informed me that she is allergic to pain.'
'She won't feel a thing,' O'Hare said in his best dentist's voice. 'Besides, it's for the homeland.' He looked at Revson consideringly. 'I believe you gentlemen of the press are handing your stuff over at the south barrier in two hours' time. Couldn't it wait till then?'
'And get my answer back by carrier pigeon next week. I want it this afternoon.'
'You are in a hurry.'
'During the war - World War Two, that is - Winston Churchill used to annotate all instructions to his military and governmental staff with just three scribbled words: "Action this day". I am a great admirer of Sir Winston."
He left the slightly bemused O'Hare and returned to April Wednesday. He told her that O'Hare had okayed his request and her first question was: 'Want I should bring back a miniaturized transceiver radio?'
He gave her a kind look. 'Thoughtful, but no. Electronic surveillance of all kinds can hardly be your province. Such a transceiver I have, screwed into the base of my camera. But that little revolving disc above the villains' coach means only one thing - they have an automatic radio-wave scanner. They'd pick me up in five seconds. Now listen carefully and I'll tell you exactly what I want you to do and how I want you to behave.'
When he had finished she said: 'Understand. But I don't much care for the thought of the kindly healer there running amok with his hypodermic.'
'You won't feel a thing,' Revson said soothingly. 'Besides, it's for the fatherland.'
He left her and walked casually across to the press coach. The imperial conference in the Presidential coach was still in full plenary session, and though the speech inside was wholly inaudible from where Revson stood it was clear from the gestures and expressions of those inside that all they had succeeded in reaching so far was a marked degree of difference in opinion. Their problem, Revson reflected, was hardly one susceptible to the ready formation of a consensus of opinion. Branson and Chrysler were up front in the rear coach, apparently dozing, which they probably weren't - though it wouldn't have mattered very much if they were, for alert guards were very much in evidence patrolling between the freshly-painted boundary lines on -the bridge. Members of the various news media stood around in groups, wearing an air of almost hushed anticipation as if expecting the next momentous occasion to happen along any second now, which seemed as likely as not.
Revson entered the press coach. It was deserted. He made his way to his own seat, unshipped his camera, produced a pad and felt pen and began, quickly and without hesitation, to write what was apparently pure gibberish. There were those who were lost without their code-books but Revson was not one of them.
SIX
Hagenbach, the chief of the FBI, was a burly and formidable character in his middle sixties, with short-cropped grey hair, short-cropped grey moustache, slightly hooded light blue eyes which never appeared to blink and a face possessed of a total non-expression which it had taken him years of hard work to acquire. It was said that among the upper echelons of his FBI there was a sweepstake as to the day and date when Hagenbach would first be seen to smile. The sweepstake had been running for five years.
Hagenbach was a very able man and looked it. He had no friends and he looked that too. Men with a consuming passion seldom do and Hagenbach was a man with a consuming passion. As was said of one of his illustrious predecessors, he was alleged to have a file on every senator and congressman in Washington, not to mention the entire staff of the White House. He could have made a fortune in blackmail but Hagenbach was not interested in money. Nor was he interested in power, as such. Hagenbach's total dedication lay in the extirpation of corruption, whenever and wherever he might encounter it.
He looked at Admiral Newson and General Carter, the former plump and rubicund, the latter tall and lean and looking disconcertingly like his superior, General Cartland. Both men he had known, and well, for almost twenty years and had not once called either by his first name. That anyone should address Hagenbach by his Christian name was unthinkable. It would also have been extremely difficult as no one seemed to know it He was the type of man who didn't need a first name.
Hagenbach said: 'So those are the only tentative proposals for action you have come up with so far ?'
The situation is unprecedented,' Newson said. 'Carter and I are fundamentally men of direct action. To date, direct action seems out of the question. Let's hear your ideas.'
'I've only just arrived. Have you any immediate proposals for the moment?'
'Yes. Await the arrival of the Vice-President.' The Vice-President is a nincompoop. You know that. I know that. We all know that.'
'Be that as it may, he's the only man in the United States who can approve and authorize any course of action we may eventually decide to make. Also, I think we had first better wait and consult Mr Milton, Mr Quarry and Chief Hendrix when they're released.'
'If they're released.'
'Hendrix is certain they will be and Hendrix knows far more about Branson than we do. Besides, he has to negotiate with somebody.' He picked up the message that had arrived from Revson via the New Jersey. 'How much reliance do you place on this?"
Hagenbach took the note and read it aloud.
'Please wait. No precipitate action. No violence-especially no violence. Let me evaluate the situation. Cannot use transceiver-the bandits have an automatic radio-wave scanner in constant use. Will communicate with you this afternoon."'
Hagenbach laid down the paper. 'Quite a bit, actually.'
Carter said: 'What's he like, this Revson of yours?'
'Ruthless, arrogant, independent, dislikes authority, a loner who consults superior officers only under duress and even then goes his own way.'
Newson said: That doesn't sound very encouraging. What's a hot-head like that doing along on a trip like this?'
'He's no hot-head. His mind is as near ice-cold as any man's can be. I also forgot to say that he's highly intelligent, very ingenious and extremely resourceful.'
Then he's a hand-picked man?' Newson said. Hagenbach nodded. 'You hand-picked him?' Again the nod. 'So he's the best in the business?'
'I can't say. You know the size of our organization. I can't possibly know all the field agents. He's just the best I happen to know.'
'Is he good enough to cope with Branson?'
'I don't know because I don't know Branson. What's for sure, for once Revson is going to depend heavily on outside help.' There was a degree of satisfaction in Hagenbach's voice.
Carter said: 'And how in hell is he going to communicate with us this afternoon?'
'I have no idea.' Hagenbach nodded to Revson's note. 'He got that through, didn't he?' There was a brief pause as the Admiral and General respectfully contemplated the note. 'Would either of you gentlemen have thought of that?' They shook their heads. 'Me neither. Resourceful is what I said.'
Branson walked up and down the bridge between the rear and Presidential coaches. No nervous pacing, no signs of strain or tension, he could have been taking a pleasant saunter in the afternoon sun, and, indeed, the afternoon was extremely pleasant. The skies were cloudless, the view all around came straight from the pages of a fairy-tale book and the waters of the Golden Gate and the Bay sparkled in the warm sun. Having had his fill of the view, Branson consulted his watch, strolled unhurriedly towards the Presidential coach, knocked on the door, opened it and stepped inside. He surveyed the occupants and the sound of voices stilled.
Branson said pleasantly: 'You have arrived at a decision, gentlemen?' There was no reply. 'Am I to take it, then, that you have arrived at an impasse?"
The President lowered the very large gin and martini with which he had been sustaining himself.
"We require more time for our deliberations.'
'You've had all the time you're going to have. You could sit here all day and get no further. If all your minds weren't so devious and at the same time so closed to the facts of life, you'd recognize this for the painfully simple issue it is. Pay up or else. And don't forget the escalation penalty clause.'
The President said: 'I have a proposal to make.'
'Let's hear it.'
'Permit the King, Prince and Sheikh Kharan to go. I shall remain as hostage. The situation would remain the same. You would still have the President of the United States. For that matter I can't see why you don't let all the hostages in this coach go.'
Branson was admiring. "My heavens, what a perfectly splendid gesture. Noble, I should say. Why, do that, and the electorate would demand that they re-alter the constitution and let their hero run for another three terms instead of one.' He smiled and went on without a change in tone. 'No way, Mr President. Apart from the fact that I shudder at the very thought of you being in the White House for the next thirteen years I've always dreamt of holding a hand of cards with four aces in it. Here I've got four. One is not enough. And has it ever occurred to you that if you were to be the only hostage left on the Golden Gate Bridge the Government, in the person of your Vice-President who would just love to sit behind that table in the Oval Office, might be sorely tempted to achieve some sort of immortality by wiping out this monstrous band of criminals who have kidnapped you and your Arabian friends? Nothing drastic of course - nobody who destroyed this bridge could ever hope to be President. A single supersonic fighter-bomber from Alameda would do the job nicely. And if one of his rockets went off course slightly -well, that's just bad luck, an Act of God and pilot's error.'
The President spilt a considerable amount of his gin and martini on the carpet.
Branson looked at Quarry, Milton and Hendrix in turn, said: 'Gentlemen', and left the coach. The three men followed. The President carefully didn't watch them go. He appeared to have found something of profound interest in the depths of what remained of his drink.
Outside, Branson spoke to Van Effen. 'Get that TV van and crew back here again. Make sure the TV companies are notified.'
Van Effen nodded. 'It would be wrong of you to let the nation suffer this agonizing suspense. Where are you going?'
To the south end with those three gentlemen.'
'As guaranteed escort for their safety? Can't they take the word of a gentleman?'
'Not that. I just want to inspect the progress being made on the barrier. Saves the walk, that's all.'
The four men climbed into the police car and drove off.
Still alone in the press coach, Revson watched them go then returned his attention to the three small sheets of notepaper on his knees. Each was smaller than the average postcard and all three were covered with small, neat and incomprehensible writing. He focused his camera and photographed each three times-Revson always covered his bets. He then took each paper in turn, set fire to it and crushed the blackened remains in his ash tray. It was a very curious paper for it gave off no smoke. He then wound off the camera spool, sealed it and wrapped it in a very thin lead foil; as he had promised O'Hare, the completed result was no larger than half a cigarette.
He reloaded his camera and went outside. The atmosphere of suspense and excitement had markedly heightened. He spoke to a near-by newspaperman - understandably, he knew none of them by name.
'Something new afoot?'
'Branson's just sent for the television van again.'
'Do you know why?"
'No idea.'
'Nothing very important, probably. Maybe he's always had a yen to appear on TV. Maybe he's just wanting to keep the pressure on the nation and the government - and the Arabian governments too, for this time the big three companies will be geared for action, the satellites will be ready and waiting and so will be all the Persian Gulf. The executives of the big companies will be hard put to it to shed crocodile tears for the plight of their beloved President and at the same time refrain from jumping for joy. The biggest show on earth and all for free. What's the odds Branson won't be putting on a late show about two in the morning?'
Revson shot about a dozen other pictures. The chances of its being discovered that he had taken no pictures at all were remote in the extreme, but then again Revson always covered his bets. He drifted casually across to where O'Hare was leaning against his ambulance and shook a cigarette from its pack.