The Apocalypse Watch Page 0,91

market, the proceeds to be wired to Bern, when and if there's a sale."

"You'll probably take half-"

"At least, Herr Rute," the voice on the line interrupted.

"I think it's quite fair. How many thousands have I transferred to Zurich at my own peril?"

"But you're one of us!"

"No, no, you're mistaken. I'm merely a solicitor who accommodates nefarious men who may or may not be traitors to the Crown. How am I to know?"

"You're nothing but a rotten money changer!"

"Again, you're wrong, Switch. I'm an expediter, no matter how it frequently pains me. And to tell you the truth, you'll be lucky to receive ten pounds for your house. You see, I really don't like you."

"You've worked for me-for us-for years! How can you say that?"

"So easily, I can't tell you. Farewell, code Switch, and for your edification, the one thing that remains constant between us is the confidentiality between client and solicitor. You see, it's my strength." The English attorney hung up, and Mosedale looked around the huge sitting room, panicked by the thought that he would never see so many mementos of his life again. Then he stood up straight, his posture rigid, and recalled the words his father had shouted from the upper staircase when war was declared.

"We'll fight for England, but we'll spare Herr Hitler! He is far more right than wrong! The inferior races are corrupting our nations. We will win the temporary conflict, establish a unified Europe, and make him the de facto chancellor of the Continent!"

The young woman called' Angel slid a suitcase down the staircase, properly-or improperly, as one would have it-clad in her brief nightgown.

"C'mon, luv, what's goin' on here?"

"I may be able to send for you later, but right now I have to leave."

"Later? What're you talking about, Ollie?"

"There's no time for explanations. I must catch a plane."

"Wot about me? When are you comin' back?"

"Not for a while."

"Well, isn't that nice and clear! Wot am I supposed to do?"

"Stay here until someone throws you out."

"Throws me out?"

"You heard me." Mosedale grabbed the suitcase, rushed to the front door, and opened it, stunned by what he saw. The London fog had turned into a downpour, and two men in raincoats stood on the brick steps to his house.

Beyond them, in the street, was a black van with a lateral antenna on the roof

"Under proper authority, your telephone has been monitored, sir," said the first man.

"I think it's best you come with us."

"Ollie," cried the scantily clad maid in the foyer.

"Ain't you gonna introduce me to your friends?"

The shouts of children marshalled in groups by parents and camp counselors mingled with the shrieks of myriad birds behind the wired screens of the huge aviary in the Rock Creek Park Zoo. The summer crowds were boisterous, the exceptions being Washingtonians who had come to the park for peaceful strolls, away from the hectic pace of the nation's capital. When faced with the hordes of tourists, these natives usually cut their interludes short, preferring the quiet of silent monuments. A particularly nasty condor, its wingspread at least eight feet, suddenly swooped down from a high perch, screeching as its claws gripped the wires of the enormous cage. Children and adults alike backed away instantly;

the glaring eyes of the giant bird conveyed hostile satisfaction.

"That's one mother of a predator, isn't it?" said Knox Talbot, standing behind Wesley Sorenson.

"I've never understood the use of the word mother to describe enormity," replied the director of Consular Operations, looking straight ahead.

"Try tenacity. It was the female's unrelenting agressiveness in protecting her young that got us through the kc Age."

"What were we men doing?"

"Pretty much the same as we're doing now. Out hunting while the women protected the caves from far more dangerous beasts than our quarry."

"You're particularly biased."

"I'm particularly married, and that conclusion was drawn by my wife. Since we've only been together thirty six years, why rock the boat at this early stage?"

"Let's get a hot dog. The stand's about fifty yards to the left and we can sit down on a bench. It's usually crowded, so I doubt anyone will notice us."

"Chili gives me gas."

"Try sauerkraut."

"Worse."

"Then just mustard."

"Ever see how hot dogs are made, Wcs?"

"Have you?"

"I think I own a company that makes 'em."

Seven minutes later Sorenson and Talbot sat next to each other, not unlike two grandfathers taking a much needed respite from their rambunctious grandchildren.

"There's something I can't tell you, Knox," began the Cons-Op director, "and you're going to be mad as hell later when you

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