The Janson Directive - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,51

was for, but it's obvious now."

"That's some distance," Katsaris said. "Is the woman going to be up to it?"

Donna Hedderman gripped the iron bars to help herself stay erect; clearly, the period of relative immobility had weakened her muscles, and her still considerable girth gave them a great deal to support.

Novak looked at her and turned away, embarrassed. Janson understood the kind of relationship that developed between two deeply frightened prisoners who might not be able to see each other but could communicate, whispering through pipes, tapping code on metal bars, passing notes scrawled with grime on scraps of cloth or paper.

"You run ahead, Theo. Let me know when you've located it, and I'll bring the others."

Three minutes elapsed before he heard Katsaris's triumphant words in his earpiece: "Found it!"

Janson looked at his watch: further delay was dangerous. When might the next contingent of guards arrive to relieve the ones who had been on duty? When would they next hear the scrape of the steel grate on the stone landing?

Now he led Peter Novak and Donna Hedderman along the dank subterranean corridor that led to the old kerosene tank. Hedderman held on to Janson's arm as she walked, and even then her gait was slow and painful. These were not the cards he would have chosen, but they were the cards he had been dealt.

The tank, obviously long neglected, had an iron door with lead flanges to maintain a tight seal.

"There's no time," Janson said. "Let's kick the damn thing in. The hinges are already rusting off. They just need help." He made a running start toward the door, throwing up a foot as he reached iron door. If the door did not give way, the result would be a bone-jarring experience. But it did, collapsing in a cloud of dust and oxidized metal.

Janson coughed. "Get out your Semtex," he said.

Now Janson strode through what had once been a storage tank for kerosene. The copper-lined chamber was still suffused with an oily smell. The fill hole was almost hidden by the hardened tarlike residue that covered the walls - impurities of the kerosene, which remained after many decades of disuse.

He hammered the butt of his HK against the outside wall, heard the hollow ring of the copper flashing. This was the area. Probably a four-foot elevation above the ground, unless it had been reduced by the passage of time.

Katsaris packed the ivory-colored putty, about the size of a wad of bubble gum, around the rusting iron bunghole and pressed into it twin silvery wires, filament-thin. The other end of the wires attached to a small, round lithium battery, similar in appearance to those used in many watches and hearing aids. The battery hung low, and Katsaris decided to press it into the Semtex, simply to stabilize it.

As he worked, Janson primed his own wad of Semtex, then took a few moments to determine the optimal position of the second blast. The positioning of plastique was crucial to the desired outcome, and they could not afford to fail. So far, they had been protected by the isolation of the dungeon - the layers of stone protecting it from the rest of the north wing.

Mayhem had occurred, but no sound would have been audible to those who were not its victims. There was no way to make a soundless exit, however. Indeed, the aftershock from the blast would travel almost instantaneously throughout the Stone Palace, rousing everyone in the immense compound. There would be no confusion among the rebels about where the blast had originated, no confusion about where to dispatch soldiers. The escape route had to be hitchless, or their efforts would all be for nothing.

Now Janson pressed his ounce of Semtex to the corner of the far wall where it met the curving top of the copper-lined tank, three feet above Katsaris's ounce.

It fell off, and Janson grabbed it before it hit the ground. The ivory putty would not adhere to the greasy surface.

What now? He took out his combat knife and used it to scrape the gummy residue from the corner of the tank. The blade was soon ruined, but his penlight revealed an area of gleaming, gouged metal.

He pressed the unsoiled side of the Semtex wad to the spot. It hung there, but uncertainly, as though it might drop at any moment.

"Fall back!" Janson called.

Theo and Janson exited the tank, Janson taking one last look to make sure the Semtex was still in position. Once the two rejoined