Read The Stockholm Syndicate Online

Authors: Colin Forbes

Tags: #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction

The Stockholm Syndicate (35 page)

In the large dining-room of
Kometa
many small tables had been brought together to create one huge and impressive table around which were seated the guests from so many nations. Even aboard the
Titanic
there was less power and influence than was gathered that night aboard the Soviet hydrofoil in the Baltic.

At the head of the table, as befitted his status, was the American industrialist, Leo Gehn, occasionally drinking mineral water, while the rest of the guests consumed ever larger quantities of champagne, encouraged by Viktor Rashkin who made frequent visits from the bridge to soothe his guests.

"A little local difficulty .. . concerning some officious Danish coast guard Doubtless he knows who we have aboard ... it is his brief hour of glory .. . briefly to detain with his minor authority such a distinguished gathering .. ."

Then the mine detonated.

From this moment on the terror started terror for those who had themselves used their money and their power to terrorise so many in different countries to do their bidding.

 

"
Explode the mine!
"

Aboard the coast guard vessel
Regula
, its captain, Johnson, was still holding his wrist-watch in his hand when he gave the order. He spoke into the small microphone slung round his neck so the message reached not only the man who detonated the mine let loose to float with the current but was also transmitted to the members of the crew operating the mobile searchlight and the swivel-mounted machine-gun.

The trio receiving the order knew precisely the sequence of events they must bring about. First, the man with the searchlight swung its beam to light on the mine itself; not too difficult a feat since he was wearing infrared glasses.

The moment that happened the second man - controlling the swivel-mounted machine-gun - swung its muzzle, being careful not to aim his gunsight at the mine but only in its general direction, and opened fire. He was using tracer bullets and the Baltic was suddenly illuminated with a miniature fireworks display.

The man whose job was to set off the detonation by remote radio control waited for the first two events to take place. Only when the mine was visible in the searchlight beam, only when a curve of tracer bullets was streaming through the night did he operate the switch. The result was spectacular.

The mine exploded with a dull resounding boom suggesting enormous power. An eruption of water like the Yellowstone Park geyser was superbly illuminated in the searchlight beam. The machine-gun ceased firing. The searchlight went out. Aboard
Kometa
everyone was temporarily stunned. At that moment - on schedule - Sergeant Jock Henderson passed under the hull of the still-stationary hydrofoil.

 

Kometa
was a 'surface-piercing hydrofoil' - a kind of craft invented in Messina, Sicily, a fact not advertised inside Soviet Russia. A large vessel of 2,000 tons, its top speed was thirty knots, which could only be achieved when it was skimming over the surface of the water so that no 'drag' factor any longer applied. Basically the entire vessel, at the pull of a single lever on the bridge, reared up out of the water on what were really massive steel wings.

By careful checking of his waterproof watch Henderson had timed the boarding of
Kometa
to coincide with Johnson's detonation of his mine the moment of maximum distraction for those aboard the Soviet vessel. A large number of his underwater team were still in the sea, concealed now beneath
Kometa
's hull, when the mine exploded. They felt a sharp push in the back as the shock wave of the blast reached them. By now Henderson was perched on the starboard surface-piercing foil at the stern.

Half out of the water and just behind him Palme stared upwards at the overhang of the ship's rail, holding a harpoon-gun in his right hand. Using the rope and drag-hook like a lasso, Henderson had swung it round his head until the momentum was strong enough, then hurled it upwards and heard the gentle
thunk
as the rubber-covered hooks took a firm hold on the rail.

It was very bad luck - but in Henderson's view they had used up their share of luck - that one of Gunther Baum's East German security men happened to be patrolling the stern as the ladder took hold. He was taken aback for a few seconds when the grapple appeared out of nowhere, then he unlooped his automatic weapon from his shoulder and peered over the rail. Henderson was a perfect target, silhouetted in his frogman's suit. The security man raised his weapon and took swift aim.

There was a hiss of compressed air, no other sound at all, as the spear released from Palme's harpoon-gun thudded into the German's chest. He slumped forward over the rail, dropping his weapon into the sea. Henderson climbed the ladder, reached the rail, glanced along the deserted deck. Using one hand, he tumbled the man over the side. Palme had already climbed the ladder and a file of men were appearing, their heads bobbing in the water like sea-monsters. Henderson, now over the rail and standing on the deck with Palme, glanced at his watch.

"Less than two minutes before Johnson signals the Russian captain he can get moving."

"We have just made it."

Before the engines of
Kometa
began throbbing underfoot, all the twenty men were aboard the hydrofoil. Advance scouts had been sent a short distance forward to deal with any fresh patrols. And Henderson had been very explicit in his instructions regarding this stage.

"According to Sobieski, the Polish sonar controller aboard, we'll be out-numbered by the East German security guards - and those johnnies are trained to prime condition. There are thirty of them. So for as long as possible we use the silent kill."

The advance scouts - under Palme's command on the port side, under Max Kellerman's command to starboard - were armed with knives and wire garottes. Their instructions were to use firearms and grenades only as a last resort - and preferably not until one of the two section commanders gave permission.

On the port side a second security guard in a leather jacket took a step forward and then stopped, staring in disbelief. He was still trying to decide whether he had seen the outline of men in frog suits when one of them stepped out behind him from between two lifeboats and plunged a razor-edged stiletto with a savage upward thrust just below the left shoulder-blade. The East German grunted. He was dead before he hit the deck.

His executioner reported the incident and then cautiously moved again towards the bridge. The head count of guards eliminated was important: it told both Palme and Kellerman how many of the opposition were still alive. As the hydrofoil began to get under way Henderson's task was quite different and exceptionally hazardous.

Several times Jules Beaurain had emphasised the danger of the mission Henderson had suggested for himself. "You could be very exposed," the Belgian had warned, 'if they start the vessel up while you're still working on the main foil."

"I have allowed for that," Henderson had assured his chief. "It is a chance I have to take. It is the only way I can attach timer-and-impact explosives to the most vulnerable part of
Kometa
."

Timer-and-impact explosives were a new device which the mild-mannered boffins at Château Wardin had recently invented. The device worked initially like time-bombs. But the refinement covered the possibility that the timing mechanism might not work.

Independent of the timer, the explosive detonated instantaneously on impact with another object, and the force of the impact needed for detonation could be varied by setting a meter which was an essential part of the device.

Henderson's objective was now to reach the bow of
Kometa
in the shortest possible time, attach the special explosives to the giant foils in the shortest possible time, and, assuming he survived what Beaurain had called 'a real Russian-roulette risk', he would then make himself available for the final assault against the bridge.

 

The Sikorsky had been lifted high into the night. In his float-plane the pilot, Smithy, had suddenly adopted more sober behaviour and was flying across the Baltic away from the Soviet ship prior to taking off - leaving the sea clear for Captain Livanov to resume his course. On the bridge the Russian had received the signal from the coast guard vessel informing him that the floating mine had been destroyed, that it was safe to proceed.

Both Livanov and Viktor Rashkin now felt confident that all was well that the extraordinary behaviour of the helicopter pilot was simply the Danes taking every precaution to ensure
Kometa
obeyed instructions until the danger was past.

"After all," Livanov pointed out, 'we did see the mine explode! I would not like the bow of this ship to have collided with that."

"You are, of course, right," Rashkin agreed. "And now I suggest we proceed at top speed round Bornholm which means demonstrating to our guests the thrill of skimming the wavetops. And I must now return to the dining-room."

Livanov gave the order to increase speed and
Kometa
began to move, a dart of glowing light shooting towards the flashing lamp which was the lighthouse close to The Hammer on the island of Bornholm. "
Skimming the wavetops
' was not the phrase Livanov would have used but it did describe the sensation of travelling aboard the hydrofoil at full power. Reaching out a hand, Livanov personally pulled at the lever which operated the foils. The ship rose up until its whole length of hull was clear of the Baltic supported only by its immense blades of steel.

As Rashkin left the bridge the two teams of invaders, one led by Palme, the other by Max Kellerman, had silently despatched five of the thirty East Germans guarding the ship. They were also putting into effect the second part of Beaurain's plan - which involved stationing men at the head of all companionways and exits leading to the main deck. Anyone attempting to mount the steps from a lower deck would immediately feel the impact of a harpoon. Both to port and starboard Stig and Max were now in control of the rear half of the ship. Only one man was facing problems: Henderson was in danger of losing his life.

 

*

 

The magnetic clamps Henderson had activated held him by the forearms and legs to the huge steel blade as he fought to complete his task. He was now lifted clear of the Baltic which was flashing past below at incredible speed. And the forward movement of the hydrofoil was creating a powerful wind which blew in his face, half-blinding his face-mask with spume and surf, tearing at his body in its attempt to rip him free from the blade and hurl him down into the water where the stern foils of
Kometa
would pass over him, cutting him to mince.

"
God damn them!
"

He had hoped to finish attaching the explosives and to have hauled himself over the rail and onto the ship's deck before the vessel continued its cruise. Cruise? This was more like a bloody race he thought, and when he wiped his face-mask free of surf smears he could see in the distance a flashing lamp. The lighthouse above The Hammer, the dreaded cliffs at the northern tip of the island of Bornholm which they were approaching fast.

As he positioned the second device underneath the foil - out of sight from anyone looking down from the deck above - the vibrations of the engines pounded his body as though he were operating half-a-dozen road drills. Henderson literally found he was shaking like a jelly. Only by making a supreme effort was he able to position the second device, activate first the magnetic clamps which attached it to the blade, then turn the switch which activated both timer and impact systems.

 

To negotiate the steep-angled support he had to repeat his earlier performance, switching off the magnetic clamps strapped round his left leg and arm, supported only by the other two holding his right forearm and leg. He then had to haul himself higher with his free left leg and arm. The process then had to be reversed so he could climb higher still up the prop, closer to the hull, this time employing his right leg and arm. His progress was not helped by the wind plucking furiously at him, by the roar of the hydrofoil thundering through the dark, by the engine vibrations which were rapidly weakening his remaining physical reserves.

Don't give up or you're finished!

It was the first time Henderson could remember having felt compelled to consider the possibility, and now he was realising it would be wiser never to look down. In his weakened state he was beginning to suffer from vertigo. The sight of the surf-edged water sheeting past below was dizzy-making. Every movement was a reflex of will-power. He

didn't really care whether he made it or not - and the thought galvanised him with self-contempt.

A million years later he hauled himself over the rail and collapsed on the deck, lying still while he waited for his natural resilience to assert itself. That was when the machine-gun fire started, punctuated by the crack of stun and fragment grenades.

 

*

 

"Give me the gun, Oscar."

Gunther Baum reached out a hand without looking and Oscar gave him the Luger immediately. The East German was standing on the port side and had no reason at all to suspect anything out of the ordinary. Ahead of him stretched the open deck. He could see dimly the sway of the lifeboats slung from their davits as
Kometa
showed her honoured guests what she was capable of, moving like a bird. Behind Gunther Baum his companion, Oscar, took a tighter grip on his own automatic weapon now he was no longer concerned with the brief-case.

"Is there something wrong?" Oscar shouted. It was the last sentence he ever uttered. The words were hardly out of his mouth when a missile hurtled towards him. He screamed and staggered back, Palme's harpoon protruding from his chest. Swiftly Baum, who was concealed in the darkness, aimed at a moving shadow and fired. The shadow dropped. Baum shouted in German at the top of his voice.

"Mass on the bridge! Withdraw from the deck!" Then he unscrewed his silencer and fired into the air twice.

Theoretically it was sound strategy, as Palme was the first to recognise. Baum was planning on assembling his men on the ship's equivalent of the high ground the bridge from where they could pour a hail of gunfire down onto the intruders approaching from the deck below.

Baum reached the bridge because of the swiftness of his movements, running crouched up the steps and pressing himself upright against the rear of the bridge. From here he could see exactly what was happening. He witnessed a massacre - of his own troops.

On the port side Palme projected the beam of a powerful lamp on his staircase; on the starboard side Kellerman employed the same tactic. Caught in the glare of the two lights, the MfS men jammed on the staircases were targets which could not be missed. There was a continuous rattle of automatic fire from the Telescope men and Baum saw his guards collapsing and tumbling over each other as they went back down the staircases. He raised his Luger and aimed it at the glaring lamp. As though anticipating he had pushed his luck far enough, Palme turned off the lamp at that moment and jumped to one side. Two bullets from Baum's Luger thudded harmlessly into the woodwork beside him.

It was Henderson, emerging on the rear of the bridge from the starboard side, who saw the almost invisible Gunther Baum pressed close to the woodwork. A brief glimpse, he pinpointed his position when the German fired his two bullets. Taking a grenade from his pocket, Henderson removed the pin, counted and then
rolled
it along the deck. The grenade stopped rolling a few inches from the feet of Gunther Baum. There was a flash which illuminated the whole of the rear of the bridge, showing Baum as its sole occupant, a thunder-crack as the grenade detonated. Baum fell forward, arms out-stretched, slithered over the rail and hit the deck below.

It was time to storm the interior of the bridge, take complete control of the vessel - and destroy it.

 

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