第92节

four of the initial batch of

twelve trainees.

All four had flown several hours solo and proved themselves reasonably

proficient. Which meant that - if the Iron Masters so decided - all

the available aircraft might now be in use when Steve had been gambling

on having half of them on the ground, strategically parked, fuelled and

ready to go when H-Hour struck!

He only planned to steal three aircraft, but when he threw the switch

it was impossible to predict what the Iron Masters' reaction might

be.

He was hoping, with Clearwater's help, to throw them into total

confusion.

But if there was an unexpectedly strong backlash, some of the aircraft

might get damaged in the crossfire .~ so it was important to have at

least one in reserve. Fine in theory, but difficult to arrange when

the Iron Masters were changing their minds almost daily. Every time

Steve took steps to cope with the new situation he found he'd been

wrong-footed by yet another switch in the schedule. It was almost as

if Min-Orota's people suspected someone was out to ruin things and were

trying to keep everybody guessing.

In the end, their indecision proved a blessing in disguise.

When it became clear that he was effectively locked out of the powder

room, Steve called up AMEXICO and arranged for a fifth and final

package to be airmailed into the pond. In the light of the bombshell

news that they had been dropped from the team and were not even going

to be allowed to watch from the sidelines, it was his smartest move

yet.

As night closed in on the eve of the display, Steve pulled the

'forgotten drawings' routine to gain entry to the workshop where the

twelve aircraft had been parked in a neat interlocking line. By

arriving at precisely the right moment, he was able to lace the

nightwatchmen's supper with some specially formulated dope in the few

vital minutes between its delivery and distribution. The onset of

sleep was gentle, the period of unconsciousness was brief but profound,

and the sleeper's breath smelt of sake.

AMEXICO had come up with the goods yet again.

Steve had two hours to make the last connections. He only needed

one.

The charge of plastic explosive, disguised as a small wooden

reinforcing strut, was already in place. Steve had positioned some of

them during the test-flights he'd made; the other aircraft had been

primed by Jodi and Kelso. All he had to do now was to insert the

ingenious device that AMEXICO had provided. It would not be

difficult.

Each insertion only took a couple of minutes. The workshops and powder

room had already been wired up; the surprise package for the guardhouse

inside the compound would be delivered tomorrow morning.

Just these gizmos and that was it.

Yep... Once they were in place it didn't matter if the Iron Masters

changed the programme for the umpteenth time or decided to make it

another day. Coming or going, or just standing still, they were going

to get it right in the kisser.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When the sun had risen clear of the Eastern Sea, Nakane Toh-Shiba, the

Consul-General, left Clearwater's bed in the lakehouse and returned to

his official residence. A thin, velvety layer of mist still lingered

on the surface of the water and it swirled around the hull of the

one-oared flatboat that brought him ashore. The five samurai who acted

as his personal bodyguard on such visits sat facing him in the bow.

Normally, the Consul-General oozed contentment after coupling with his

olive-skinned long-dog, but this morning, despite the joyous delirium

produced by his repeated penetration of her body, his mood was

sombre.