Windfall

'Same with the office,' said Stafford in a dissatisfied voice. 'But I might have missed something. Take a look at those maps, Alan.'

Hunt went into the office and Hardin said, 'We might have made a big mistake, Max.'

'I'd have sworn on a stack of Bibles six feet high that what we're looking for is in here,' said Stafford savagely.

'So what do we do if it's kosher?' asked Hardin. 'Apologize?'

'It can't be. Not with that damned blast wall and the shutters.'

Hunt came back. 'Standard maps of Kenya,' he reported. 'I'd say the lines are animal movements as recorded by the electronic thingummy on the roof. I told you Brice had shown me papers in a journal. The same stuff.' He saw a strange look on Stafford's face. 'What's the matter?'

Stafford was looking at the door leading into the back room. It was open and a man stood there. Stafford plunged forward and the man slammed the door in his face and it took him a moment to open it as his feet slipped from under him. He yanked it open and then lost his footing completely and fell on his back just as there was the sharp report of a shot.

He rolled over and looked around. The room was empty.

He got up slowly and took Nair's pistol from his pocket. He turned carefully looking at every part of the room and saw nothing. 'It's all right, you can come in.' He picked up one foot and felt the sole of his shoe. 'Damned seeds!' he said, and kicked off the shoes.

Hardin appeared at the door. 'Where did the guy go?'

Stafford pointed with the gun. 'He was standing there when I fell.'

'That prat fall maybe saved your life,' observed Hardin. 'That goddamn bullet nearly hit me.' He fingered a tear in the side of his shirt and looked around warily. 'What's the trick?'

'I caught sight of something,' said Stafford. 'Just before I fell. Something big and square.'

'What was it?'

'I don't know. It doesn't seem to be there now.' Stafford studied the floor which was covered with a plastic composition in a checkerboard pattern. Set into it at his feet was a metal plate about three inches square. He bent down and found he could prise it upwards and that it moved on a spring-loaded hinge. Beneath the plate was a three-pin socket for an electric plug.

Hardin said, 'Most of this electronic equipment is mounted on castors. That's why they need floor plugs.'

'Yes,' said Stafford absently. He walked over to where he had last seen the man and found another metal plate. He bent down and lifted it. 'Bingo!' he said softly because it opened to reveal not an electric socket but a metal ring. 'There's a bloody cellar – this is a trap door.'

He ran his fingers along a hairline crack and found the hinge. The trap door was square and it must have been what he saw when it was standing open. 'Take cover, Ben, and warn the others. He might pop off again.' He pulled open the metal flap, put his finger through the ring, and lifted. The door opened easily and he had lifted it about nine inches when there was another shot and a bullet ricochetted from the wall.

Stafford let the door drop and stood on it. Hardin stepped forward from where he had been pressed against the wall. 'Looks like a Mexican stand-off. We can't get down and he can't get up. But if he has a telephone down there he'll be calling for reinforcements.'

Stafford had not thought of that. 'Sergeant!' he shouted. 'If you find any telephone wires cut them, and keep a watch out there.' Hardin was right, he thought. Unless there was another way out of the cellar which he thought unlikely. The entrance to the cellar on which he stood was cleverly disguised; another entrance would double the chances of the cellar being discovered.

He snapped his fingers suddenly. 'Got it! I know how we can winkle him out. Go with Hunt and bring his balloon burner and a couple of butane bottles. We've got a flame thrower of sorts.'

'Jesus!' said Hardin. 'That's nasty.'

'We'll tickle him up, just enough to put the fear of God into him. He'll come out.'

'Okay.' Hardin turned to go, but stopped at the door and looked back. 'I wouldn't stand there,' he advised. 'If he shoots through the door you're likely to lose the family jewels.'

Stafford hastily stood aside and, while waiting for Hardin to come back, he wheeled a console across so that two of its castored legs stood on the trap door and held it down. He then walked to the door and said to Curtis, 'Any signs of activity out there?'

'Nothing here, sir; except that Mr Hardin and Mr Hunt are coming back.' Curtis turned away from the window. 'I'll check the other side.' He crossed the room and walked into the office.

Hardin came in carrying the burner and Hunt followed, staggering under the weight of a butane cylinder. They went into the back room and Hunt put down the cylinder. Stafford said, 'Can you rig this thing?'

'Yes.' Hunt hesitated. 'But I don't know that I want to.'