Mitchell."
"Mitchell." Larsen's tone changed. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"
"Because I didn't expect a Gestapo third degree, that's why. You must be Commander Lar-sen."
"That's me."
"Not very civil, are you?"
"I've got a job to do."
"Lord Worth."
"He's not here."
113
Allstair MacLean
"He wouldn't lie to me." Mitchell thought it impolitic to add that he'd actually seen Lord Worth take off.
"He didn't lie to you. He was here. He left hours ago for Washington."
Mitchell was silent for a few moments while he considered. "Any number where he can be reached?"
"Yes. Why?"
"I didn't ask you why he'd gone to Washington. It's an urgent, private and personal matter. From what I've heard of you from Lord Worth, and that's quite a bit, you'd react in exactly the same way. Give me the number and Til call back and fill you in just as soon as Lord Worth gives me clearance."
"Your word on that?"
Mitchell gave his promise and Larsen gave him the number.
Mitchell replaced the receiver. He said to Robertson: "Lord Worth has left the Seawitch and gone to Washington."
"He does get around. In his Boeing, I presume?"
"I didn't ask. I took that for granted. Do you think you can reach him on the plane?"
Robertson didn't look encouraging. "When did he leave the Seawitch?"
"I don't know. Should have asked, I suppose. Hours ago, Larsen said."
114
Seawitch
Robertson looked even more discouraged. "I wouldn't hold out any hope, Mr. Mitchell. With this set I can reach out a couple of thousand miles. Lord Worth's Boeing can reach any airport not quite as far away, just as the airport can reach him. But the receiving equipment aboard the Boeing hasn't been modified to receive long-range transmissions from this set, which is very specialized. Short-range only. Five hundred miles, if that. The Boeing is bound to be well out of range by now."
"Freak weather conditions?"
"Mighty rare, Mr. Mitchell."
"Try anyway, Jim."
He tried and kept on trying for five minutes, during which it became steadily more apparent that Lord Worth would have at least a bit more time before being set up for his coronary. At the end of five minutes Robertson shrugged his shoulders and looked up at Mitchell.
"Thanks for the try, Jim." He gave Robertson a piece of paper with a number on it. "Washington. Think you can reach that?"
"That I can guarantee."
"Try for it in half an hour. Ask for Lord Worth. Emphasize the urgency. If you don't contact him, try again every twenty minutes. You have a direct line to the study?"
"Yes.1'
'Til be there. I have to welcome the law."
Alia*air MaeLean
Lord Worth, still happily unaware of his disintegrating world, slept soundly. The Boeing, at thirty-three thousand feet, was just beginning its descent to Dulles Airport.
lift
Chapter 5
Worth, a glass of scotch in one hand and an illegal Cuban cigar in the other, was comfortably ensconced in a deep armchair in the very plush office of the Assistant Secretary of State, He should have been contented and relaxed: he was, in fact, highly discontented and completely unrelaxed. He was becoming mad, steadily and far from slowly, at the world in general and at the four other people in that room in particular.
The four consisted of Howell, the Assistant Secretary, a tall, thin, keen-faced man with steel-framed glasses who looked like, and in fact was,
117
Alistair
a Yale professor. The second was his personal assistant, whose name, fittingly enough, Lord Worth had failed to catch, for he had about him the gray anonymity of a top-flight civil servant. The third was Lieutenant-General Zweicker, and all that could be said about him was that he looked every inch a general. The fourth was a middle-aged stenographer who appeared to take notes of the discussion whenever the mood struck her, which didn't appear to be very often: most likely, long experience had taught her that most of what was said at any conference wasn't worth noting anyway.
Lord Worth said: *Tm a very
"Mitchell." Larsen's tone changed. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"
"Because I didn't expect a Gestapo third degree, that's why. You must be Commander Lar-sen."
"That's me."
"Not very civil, are you?"
"I've got a job to do."
"Lord Worth."
"He's not here."
113
Allstair MacLean
"He wouldn't lie to me." Mitchell thought it impolitic to add that he'd actually seen Lord Worth take off.
"He didn't lie to you. He was here. He left hours ago for Washington."
Mitchell was silent for a few moments while he considered. "Any number where he can be reached?"
"Yes. Why?"
"I didn't ask you why he'd gone to Washington. It's an urgent, private and personal matter. From what I've heard of you from Lord Worth, and that's quite a bit, you'd react in exactly the same way. Give me the number and Til call back and fill you in just as soon as Lord Worth gives me clearance."
"Your word on that?"
Mitchell gave his promise and Larsen gave him the number.
Mitchell replaced the receiver. He said to Robertson: "Lord Worth has left the Seawitch and gone to Washington."
"He does get around. In his Boeing, I presume?"
"I didn't ask. I took that for granted. Do you think you can reach him on the plane?"
Robertson didn't look encouraging. "When did he leave the Seawitch?"
"I don't know. Should have asked, I suppose. Hours ago, Larsen said."
114
Seawitch
Robertson looked even more discouraged. "I wouldn't hold out any hope, Mr. Mitchell. With this set I can reach out a couple of thousand miles. Lord Worth's Boeing can reach any airport not quite as far away, just as the airport can reach him. But the receiving equipment aboard the Boeing hasn't been modified to receive long-range transmissions from this set, which is very specialized. Short-range only. Five hundred miles, if that. The Boeing is bound to be well out of range by now."
"Freak weather conditions?"
"Mighty rare, Mr. Mitchell."
"Try anyway, Jim."
He tried and kept on trying for five minutes, during which it became steadily more apparent that Lord Worth would have at least a bit more time before being set up for his coronary. At the end of five minutes Robertson shrugged his shoulders and looked up at Mitchell.
"Thanks for the try, Jim." He gave Robertson a piece of paper with a number on it. "Washington. Think you can reach that?"
"That I can guarantee."
"Try for it in half an hour. Ask for Lord Worth. Emphasize the urgency. If you don't contact him, try again every twenty minutes. You have a direct line to the study?"
"Yes.1'
'Til be there. I have to welcome the law."
Alia*air MaeLean
Lord Worth, still happily unaware of his disintegrating world, slept soundly. The Boeing, at thirty-three thousand feet, was just beginning its descent to Dulles Airport.
lift
Chapter 5
Worth, a glass of scotch in one hand and an illegal Cuban cigar in the other, was comfortably ensconced in a deep armchair in the very plush office of the Assistant Secretary of State, He should have been contented and relaxed: he was, in fact, highly discontented and completely unrelaxed. He was becoming mad, steadily and far from slowly, at the world in general and at the four other people in that room in particular.
The four consisted of Howell, the Assistant Secretary, a tall, thin, keen-faced man with steel-framed glasses who looked like, and in fact was,
117
Alistair
a Yale professor. The second was his personal assistant, whose name, fittingly enough, Lord Worth had failed to catch, for he had about him the gray anonymity of a top-flight civil servant. The third was Lieutenant-General Zweicker, and all that could be said about him was that he looked every inch a general. The fourth was a middle-aged stenographer who appeared to take notes of the discussion whenever the mood struck her, which didn't appear to be very often: most likely, long experience had taught her that most of what was said at any conference wasn't worth noting anyway.
Lord Worth said: *Tm a very
Similar Books
