"Freak weather conditions?"

"Mighty rare, Mr. Mitchell."

"Try anyway, Jim."

He tried and kept on trying for five minutes, during which it became steadily more apparent that Lord Worth would have at least a bit more time before being set up for his coronary. At the end of five minutes Robertson shrugged his shoulders and looked up at Mitchell.

"Thanks for the try, Jim." He gave Robertson a piece of paper with a number on it. "Washington. Think you can reach that?"

"That I can guarantee."

"Try for it in half an hour. Ask for Lord Worth. Emphasize the urgency. If you don't contact him, try again every twenty minutes. You have a direct line to the study?"

"Yes.1'

'Til be there. I have to welcome the law."

Alia*air MaeLean

Lord Worth, still happily unaware of his disintegrating world, slept soundly. The Boeing, at thirty-three thousand feet, was just beginning its descent to Dulles Airport.

Chapter 5

Worth, a glass of scotch in one hand and an illegal Cuban cigar in the other, was comfortably ensconced in a deep armchair in the very plush office of the Assistant Secretary of State, He should have been contented and relaxed: he was, in fact, highly discontented and completely unrelaxed. He was becoming mad, steadily and far from slowly, at the world in general and at the four other people in that room in particular.

The four consisted of Howell, the Assistant Secretary, a tall, thin, keen-faced man with steel-framed glasses who looked like, and in fact was, a Yale professor. The second was his personal assistant, whose name, fittingly enough, Lord Worth had failed to catch, for he had about him the gray anonymity of a top-flight civil servant. The third was Lieutenant-General Zweicker, and all that could be said about him was that he looked every inch a general. The fourth was a middle-aged stenographer who appeared to take notes of the discussion whenever the mood struck her, which didn't appear to be very often: most likely, long experience had taught her that most of what was said at any conference wasn't worth noting anyway.

Lord Worth said: *Tm a very tired man who has just flown up from the Gulf of Mexico. I have spent twenty-five minutes here and appear to have wasted my time. Well, gentlemen, I have no intention of wasting my time. My time is as important as yours. Correction. It's a damn sight more important. 'The big brush-off,' I believe it's called."

"How can you call it a brush-off? You're sitting in my office and General Zweicker is here. How many other citizens rate that kind of treatment?"

"The bigger the facade, the bigger the brush-off. I am not accustomed to dealing with underlings. I am accustomed to dealing with the very top, which I haven't quite reached yet, but will. The cool, diplomatic, deep-freeze treatment will not work. I am no troublemaker, but Til go any lengths to secure justice. You can't sweep me under your diplomatic carpet, Mr. Howell. I told you recently that there were international threats against the Seawitch, and you chose either to disbelieve me or ignore me. I come to you now with additional proof that I am threatened – three naval vessels heading for the Seawitch – and still you propose to take no action. And I would point out, incidentally, if you still don't know independently of the movements of those vessels, then it's time you got yourselves a new intelligence service."

General Zweicker said: "We are aware of those movements. But as yet we see no justification for taking any kind of action. You have no proof that what you claim is true. Suspicions, no more. Do you seriously expect us to alert naval units and a squadron of fighter-bombers on the unproven and what may well be the unfounded suspicions of a private citizen?"

"That's it in a nutshell," Howell said. "And I would remind you, Lord Worth, that you're not even an American citizen."

" 'Not even an American citizen.' " He turned to the stenographer. "I trust you made a note of that." He lifted his hand as Howell made to speak. "Too late, Howell. Too late to retrieve your blunder – a blunder, I may say, of classical proportions. Not an American citizen? I would point out that I paid more taxes last year than all your precious oil companies in the States combined – this apart from supplying the cheapest oil to the United States. If the level of competence of the State Department is typical of the way this country is run, then I can only rejoice in the fact that I still retain a British passport. One law for Americans, another for the heathen beyond the pale. Even-handed justice. 'Not an American citizen.' This should make a particularly juicy tidbit for the news conference I" intend to hold immediately after I leave."

"A news conference?" HoweU– betrayed unmistakable signs of agitation,

"Certainly." Lord Worth's tone was as grim as his face. "If you people won't protect me, then, by God, Til protect myself."

Howell looked at the general, then back to Lord Worth. He strove to inject an official and intimidating note into his voice. "I would remind you that any discussions that take place here are strictly confidential."

Lord Worth eyed him coldly. "It's always sad to see a man who has missed his true vocation. You should have been a comedian, Howell, not a senior member of government. Confidential. That's good. How can you remind me of something you never even mentioned before? Confidential. If there wasn't a lady present Fd tell you what I really think of your asinine remark. God, it's rich, a statement like that coming from the number two in a government department with so splendid a record of leaking state secrets to muckraking journalists, doubless in return for a suitable quid pro quo. I cannot abide hypocrisy. And this makes another juicy tidbit for the press conference – the State Department tried to gag me. Classical blunder number two, Howell."

Howell said nothing. He looked as if he were considering the advisability of wringing his hands.

"I shall inform the press conference of the indecision, reluctance, inaction, incompetence and plain running-scared vacillation of a State Department which will be responsible for the loss of a hundred-million-dollar oil rig, the stopping of cheap supplies of fuel to the American people, the biggest oil slick in history, and the possible – no, I would say probable – beginnings of a third major war. In addition to holding this news conference, I shall buy TV and radio time, explain the whole situation, and further explain that I am forced to go to those extraordinary lengths because of the refusal and inability of the State Department to protect me." He paused. "That was rather silly of me. I have my own TV and radio stations. It's going to be such a burning-hot topic that the big three companies will jump at it and it won't cost me a cent. By tonight I'll have the name of the State Department, particularly the names of you and your boss, if not exactly blackened, at least tarnished across the country. I'm a desperate man, gentlemen, and I'm prepared to adopt desperate methods."

He paused for their reactions. Facially they were all he could have wished. Howell, his assistant and the general all too clearly realized that Lord Worth meant every word he said. The implications were too horrendous to contemplate, But no one said anything, so Lord Worth took up the conversational burden again.

"Finally, gentlemen, you base your pusillanimous refusal to act on the fact that I have no proof of evil intent. I do, in fact, possess such proof, and it's cast iron. I will not lay this proof before you because it is apparent that I will achieve nothing here. I require a decision-maker, and the Secretary has the reputation for being just that. I suggest you get him here."

"Get the Secretary?" HowelTs ears were clearly appalled by this suggested l$se majeste. "One doesn't 'get' the Secretary. People make appointments days, even weeks, in advance. Besides, he is in a very important conference."