Nathan tucked a box of ammo under his arm and slung an SLR over his shoulder. Chung grabbed up a pair of black-metal crossbows still in their oiled wrapping. And that was it: only a small ammo box to go, and a package of spare parts for the SLRs. An ex-Navy type, checking to see that they'd got it all, picked up these last few items. But in the corridor, as they headed for the sump . ..
. .. They bumped into Anna Marie. T equipped some of the instructors with walkie-talkies, sent them out into the woods and approach roads,' she said breathlessly. 'Mercifully, there are damned few roads up here! But I'm getting reports of furtive strangers in the neighbourhood, and a couple of callsigns haven't got back to me at all. Ben, I don't like it.'
On their way down to the basement he told her about his call from lan Goodly. 'None of us like it,' he said. 'Not you, me, or lan. If this is Turkur Tzonov - I mean, if his people are involved - then they're taking one hell of a risk. Something that could blow up into an international incident. And if it's CMI ... I understand how Nathan could frighten people: a man with his powers, coming from an alien world of vampires. But how come they're suddenly vindictive? How come we've had no wind of it? It's why we're in the intelligence game, after all - so we can know what's going down before anyone else. But not this time. It's as if someone had been hiding, watching, waiting, looking for the main chance. But the main chance to do what?'
Anna Marie hobbled on spindly, hurting legs, having difficulty with the concrete stairs down to the lowest level. 'Have we grown lax, Ben?'
The Branch? Possibly. But once Nathan's out of here we have to tighten up again. I have to tighten up - if they give me the chance.'
They? The manipulators? The puppeteers?' There was more than a little scorn in her voice. 'We should have taken it all away from them long ago. Our world still needs saving, Ben, and no one is making the effort. Not much of an effort, anyway. It makes nonsense of everything. If we can't do anything for our own world, isn't it a bit presumptuous of us to try and save someone else's?'
'But if we were the bosses,' (Trask had thought it over a good many times) 'who would there be to watch us?'
'Who watches them?' There was logic in her bitterness, but Trask knew the 'truth' of his argument. Absolute power, and all that...'
'As for Sunside/Starside,' he ignored her retort to examine the rest of her question, 'you know as well as I do that if the vampire world is taken by the Wamphyri, ours could well be next. It's Nathan's world that's under threat now, yes . .. but tomorrow and tomorrow?'
Before she could make an answer, if she would -
The phone hooked in Trask's pocket chirruped insistently, causing him to start.
By then they were down into the sump of the place, where through the course of centuries the resurgence had eaten away the bedrock of the cliff into an overhanging, echoing grotto. Now the mouth of the cave and the course of the gurgling, shallow stream it emitted were roofed over and enclosed in an electrified wire-mesh 'tunnel' hung with powerful lamps. And away from the roots of the cliff the watercourse had been perted, lined with reinforced concrete, and channelled into a system of man- or vampire-traps.
A door in the wire-mesh stood open where warning lights showed a reassuring green; the power was off. Men were waiting in the tunnel, and some of them had pulled on the trouser-bottoms of rubber wetsuits in preparation. Nathan, Trask and the others joined them, and in the mouth of the cave Trask paused to answer the phone. He recognized the Minister Responsible's voice immediately, and at once said:
Thanks a lot!' His voice was bitter, choked.
'Trask, there's no time for recriminations,' the Minister told him. Which served to corroborate what Goodly had said: it was coming soon. 'Now listen and listen good. This is from the very top. Do you understand? The very top. You're not to go any further with your plan. Nathan isn't to use the Gate. You have to hand him over now, without any fuss . ..' The Minister paused a second as if to think something over, and in the next moment the pitch of his voice went up several notches, almost to an hysterical level: 'Trask, CMI are out there, at the Refuge! They're listening in on this, at your end and in London both. I'm not party to it, Trask, you have to believe me! But if you don't co-operate, they have orders to -' And the phone went dead.