Billionaire
Elleck felt a chill listening to the Viscomte’s words. There was something about this whole evening – this extraordinary chateau, the bent Greek, the sincerity with which the Viscomte was talking. All his life, Elleck had taken steps to ensure that he only played in the ‘A’ team. Well here he was, as usual playing in the ‘A’ team, and he decided that tonight he might have been distinctly more at ease had he been playing in something lower down the league. ‘And how do you propose going about bringing the world to the brink of war, Claude?’
Lasserre picked his brandy punt up gently in the palm of his right hand; he stared down into the gold liquid for several moments, lifted the punt to his lips, took a small sip, held the brandy in his mouth for some moments, and then swallowed. He looked across at Elleck. ‘We have already started,’ he said.
There was a silence that lasted for nearly a full minute. The Viscomte passed it by lowering his nose into his punt and inhaling the fumes of the elderly brandy several times, slowly and deeply. Culundis passed it by examining first the end of his cigar which had half an inch of ash on; secondly, the end of his cigar which had half an inch of damp slobber; and then the space in between. Elleck passed it without removing his eyes from a point, on one of the open French windows, that was about six inches to the left of the Viscomte’s face; about halfway through the minute, he rolled his cigar over, once, in the ashtray. He had absolutely no doubt that the Viscomte meant what he said, and from what he knew of the Viscomte’s attitude to life and to people, he knew that the Viscomte was cold enough and ruthless enough to carry it out. From his short acquaintance with Jimmy Culundis, and from what he had read about him on the many occasions his name had appeared in the world press in the past, he had little doubt that Culundis had come from a similar mould. He tried to consider the significance of what the Viscomte had said, but he found he was unable to concentrate his mind. ‘What do you mean?’ he said finally, ‘you have started?’
‘What do you consider to be the most important commodity that could affect world peace at the present time, Monty?’ said Lasserre.
‘There is only one,’ said Elleck. ‘Oil.’
Lasserre nodded. ‘If someone were to threaten overnight to shut off half the Western World’s oil supply, what do you imagine would happen?’
‘I imagine the Western World would resist strenuously.’
Again Lasserre nodded. ‘Right.’
‘But to turn off half the world’s oil supply,’ said Elleck, ‘you would have to attack about six different countries all at once.’
Lasserre shook his head. ‘That is not correct, Monty; there is an easier way. At the present time, over half the Western World’s oil supplies are shipped in tankers down the Persian Gulf. There is one particularly narrow point in the Gulf – a mere twenty-seven miles wide – called the Strait of Hormuz. Block that, and nothing can get in or out of the Gulf.’
‘I’m sure you are right – in theory,’ said Elleck. ‘But in practice, if any one blocks the Gulf, the West will have it unblocked within hours. And how on earth could anyone block a stretch of water twenty-seven miles wide? A couple of hundred yards is one thing – but twenty-seven miles is quite another.’
Lasserre again shook his head. ‘You do not listen, Monty. I said, “threaten to block,” not actually “block.” ’
‘I don’t see there is much difference. If someone is going to threaten to block it, they must show they have the ability to carry out that threat.’
‘Correct.’
‘So how could anyone show they could block the Strait of Hormuz and keep it blocked?’
Lasserre looked at Culundis. Culundis drew hard on his cigar, puffed out his cheeks, then spat out the mouthful of smoke before speaking. ‘Nuclear explosives are not limited purely to massively powerful bombs for destroying land targets; a recent development has been the nuclear mine. There is no conventional mine in existence powerful enough to sink a large oil tanker – there are plenty that could make an ugly hole in one, but none that would destroy one. One small nuclear mine – say, twenty kiloton – would turn a supertanker into a mass of metal splinters, most of them no longer than a cigarette lighter flint; in addition, it would destroy any other shipping within a three-mile radius, and send out a tidal wave that would capsize any boat, of any size, within a ten-mile radius. Four tankers an hour go out through the Strait of Hormuz and four an hour come in; that’s eight tankers in an hour. The shipping channels are four miles wide each way, with a two-mile gap – that’s a ten-mile area. At any given time of any day or night, there would always be at least four tankers within capsize range of a twenty-kiloton nuclear mine.’ Culundis stuck his cigar back in his mouth and drew hard on it.
‘So all that any one,’ said Elleck, ‘who wishes to block the Strait of Hormuz has to do is nip down to his local supermarket, buy a boatload of nuclear mines and announce to the world that he is going to chuck them overboard in the Strait of Hormuz?’
‘No,’ said the Greek, ‘not anyone. Only those with access to nuclear mines.’
‘And who has access to nuclear mines?’
‘As far as I know, only three people can get their hands on a worthwhile quantity without any questions being asked: the Chairman of the Soviet Union, the President of the United States, and myself.’
‘I’ll remember to give you a call next time I need some,’ said Elleck.
Culundis blew him a kiss. ‘It will be no problem – just let me know the quantity and send me your cheque.’
Elleck looked down at the table, then out through the French windows at the dark blue, balmy warm night. ‘So how, with your unlimited supply of nuclear mines, which you will threaten to throw into the Strait of Hormuz, do you actually bring the world to the brink of war?’
‘In your line of work, it must be very important you keep up with the news, eh?’
Elleck nodded.
The Greek continued. ‘Some years ago, you may remember a small disturbance in the Middle East – in the United Arab Emirates? One of the Emirates, Umm Al Amnah, broke away and became once more independent. All the world said the Libyans were behind this revolution – with, of course, the Russians behind them. Well, it wasn’t the Libyans. I know – because I supplied the men and the weapons to Umm Al Amnah, and the Libyans were not involved. No outsider was; this was purely an internal situation. The old Emir Quozzohok fell out with the Government of the UAE just after oil was discovered in Amnah. He and the Government had never got on too well, and he was damned if they were going to have any benefits from his oil. This coup, of course, greatly upset the UAE and alienated Quozzohok from the governments of the Western World – they didn’t want to lose their valuable friendship with the UAE, so they had to spurn Amnah. The Libyans and the Russians courted Quozzohok, but he didn’t want to know.
‘The reason the West thought Libya was behind that revolution was very simple: I don’t like to have anything traced to me. So all the contracts with the mercenaries, all the purchases of weapons and ammunition and all other related purchases were made in the name of a company, Eurocorps, the origins of which can easily be traced, first to a Liechtenstein holding company and secondly to a Panamanian Company with nominee directors, and only one share issued. That share is owned by Sahqd-As-Sah, a Libyan arms wholesaling company. Right now, to assist them with certain internal problems, soldiers, weapons and ammunition are arriving at Umm Al Amnah every day. To anyone taking the trouble to find out who is behind them, the answer is easily found: Libya.’ Culundis smiled.
‘Although, of course, it is actually you,’ said Elleck.
‘Of course,’ smiled the Greek.
‘So you have set up Libya, in the opinion of the world, as being Umm Al Amnah’s supporter – whether Amnah likes it or not?’
‘In a nutshell, yes. Libya isn’t going to deny it – it’s good publicity for them. Poor exploited little Amnah – it all fits into Gaddafi’s Islamic revolution activities very neatly.’
Elleck slowly
nodded his head. ‘I’m following you. So Amnah is going to threaten to mine the Strait, with Libya as fairy godmother and Russia as the golden coach?’
‘No,’ said Culundis. ‘We are further than that. One month ago, something happened that was kept well out of the world’s press: an Oman Navy patrol boat picked up, in the Strait, a fishing dhow that was drifting with a dead crew on board. Also on board were eight twenty-kiloton nuclear mines, all with six-hour timer devices which would automatically prime themselves six hours after immersion in the water. They were utterly sophisticated devices that could not be reversed by a minesweeper. They had sonar detonators primed to go off as soon as any ship got within one hundred yards; if one of those had been dumped into the sea, the Lord only knows how it could ever have been got out again.’
‘Whose mines were they and how did they come to be on the dhow?’
‘The mines were Russian-made, for all intents and purposes. The dhow’s registration certificate showed its home port as being Al Suttoh. Al Suttoh is the chief port of Umm Al Amnah.’
‘And who was behind it?’ asked Elleck.
‘As far as the Western World believes, the Libyans,’ Culundis smiled.
‘And what does the Western World believe the Libyans have to gain by blocking the Gulf?’
‘In political terms,’ said Culundis, ‘that’s a good question. No one can be sure – but in economic terms it is very clear. Libya’s chief ports are on the Mediterranean. She is the only major oil-producing Arab country that does not need the Persian Gulf. If the Gulf was blocked for a considerable period of time, Libya would be in a position to ask just whatever the hell she liked for her oil.’
‘That’s a pretty good reason for Libya to block the Gulf,’ said Elleck.
Culundis nodded in agreement.
‘But you’re implying it wasn’t Libya who put those mines on that dhow?’
‘Correct, Monty. The mines were not, in fact, Russian-made at all – although they were made to look that way. They were actually made in France, by Lasserre Industriele. I arranged for them to be put onto the dhow.’
Elleck thought for some moments. ‘How come you were careless enough to let the Royal Omani Navy capture the dhow?’
‘Not careless,’ said Culundis very slowly, ‘careful!’
‘Careful?’
‘It was deliberate. Do not forget, Monty Elleck, we have been talking about a threat to block the Gulf – not an actual blockade. You yourself have said that a threat is useless unless you can show you have the ability to carry it out. Well, let me tell you something: Oman, because it actually occupies the land one side of the Strait of Hormuz, and because of its position at the base of the Gulf, is strategically one of the most important countries of the world. It is friendly to the West, but the Russians constantly are trying to infiltrate it, trying to erode the Government’s support by propaganda to the population. Oman is one of the most heavily-surveilled countries in the world; not merely because of its position as a watch post on the Gulf, but because of its strategically important position for the Americans and for NATO. There are more intelligence agents crawling around the sand dunes and rock caves of Oman than there are almost anywhere else in the world. There is not an intelligence agency in the world who did not hear about those nuclear mines being found aboard that dhow. You might not have read one word in the newspapers – because it was deliberately kept out – but I’ll tell you something: every government in the world right now knows those mines were on that dhow. They don’t know for sure why they were there – they can only speculate. But they know that they exist; they know that they were there; and if someone were to tell them that there were another thirty dhows out there, carrying a further 400 mines between them, you know what they’d think, Monty Elleck?’
Elleck slowly nodded his head.
‘Damned right, Monty Elleck. They’d bloody believe it.’
Elleck pulled another flat cedar taper from the silver box on the table, stuck one end of the taper in a candle flame, then held the burning taper to his cigar, puffed hard three times, then shook out the taper. ‘Couldn’t the mines be swept? There must be a way?’
‘Impossible. You cannot get near them without them exploding.’
‘Couldn’t they be detonated by remote control?’
The Greek shook his head. ‘Imagine 400 all within a few square miles. If one goes, there is a good chance it will set off others – perhaps even all the others; the result of nuclear mines detonating in that stretch of water is almost impossible to conceive. It would alter the entire floor of the Gulf – the Gulf isn’t that deep, and there would be a very real danger that a force of explosion of that size could raise up the entire bottom – making it impassable to all shipping for months and possibly years. It would create tidal waves up and down the Gulf that would wash away towns and villages, destroy the harbours – such a force of water that would break supertankers into little pieces.’
‘There must be some way to make these mines safe,’ said Elleck. ‘If your bluff was called and you had to put 400 mines in the Gulf, and then your demands were met, how would you make them safe? Or would you leave them? Umm Al Amnah has a coast on the Gulf – surely it would suffer as much as anyone if these mines did go off?’
‘There is a way to make them safe. These mines have been fitted with a detonating system that is primed automatically by six hours’ immersion in water. They can be defused only by a coded radio signal. The eight mines we put in the dhow which was captured had no such defusing system. We did not want anyone else to learn about the detonating system – I am sure you can understand?’
‘Naturally,’ said Elleck. He was pushing his mind forward, trying to anticipate what was at the end of all this, and he was finding it difficult; there were too many options.
‘What,’ said Elleck, ‘did Sheik Quozzohok, Emir of Amnah, have to say about all this?’
‘He never knew about it. It was felt in the Oman that it would be better to keep quiet – and keep watching Amnah to try and find out more about what might be going on. Amnah has no intelligence agents in Oman – nor anywhere else – for that matter,’ said Lasserre. ‘Now we come to the key part. Our aim is to push up the price of gold and, to do this, we need a major international conflict, preferably lasting several days, and worsening each day. You will probably not know yet, but the Sheik Quozzohok has abdicated, and the new Emir is his son, Abr Qu’Ih Missh.’
‘Very interesting,’ said Elleck. ‘He happens to be one of my company’s major private clients.’
‘Indeed?’ said Lasserre. ‘This is a complete coincidence, I can assure you. Now this man Missh is sitting on a very rocky seat – and I understand he is totally dependent on Jimmy Culundis for his personal security, and the security of his government. He will go along with anything that Jimmy instructs him, because he has no option.’ Lasserre turned to Culundis. ‘I am correct?’
‘We’ve got him by the balls.’
Elleck looked at Culundis and decided that if it had only been his balls that he had got him by, then the Sheik had got off very lightly.
‘Now,’ said Lasserre, ‘what we are proposing to do is as follows: Amnah is being watched very closely indeed by many intelligence networks; any information that is let out will immediately be passed onto the governments of the world. We intend to let it slip out that Umm Al Amnah, supported by Libya, is planning to mine the Persian Gulf, and will not remove the mines until Israel agrees to relinquish all the territories it has gained since the Six Day War in 1967.’
Elleck frowned. Israel was an obsession with him; he had poured hundreds of thousands of pounds into charities supporting the country, although he did admit secretly, to himself, that the reason was probably as much, if not more, his desire to keep his clients happy and to cultivate new clients as any particular passionate desire to help the homeland of his race.
‘Israel,’ said Lasserre, ‘will then, we hope, launch straight into war against Libya and Umm Al Amnah. W
ithin a very short space of time, one half of the world will be supporting one side or the other, whilst the other half will be trying to pull them apart. Whatever the eventual outcome may be, for a period of time the price of gold must surely go through the roof?’
‘Israel has suffered a lot of criticism in the past for striking too quickly. Begin only pushed Israel into the first Osirak raid because he felt it would gain him votes in the forthcoming election. The second raid was also similarly inspired – two days before an election. Without those elections immediately in front, I am not sure Israel would have attacked on either occasion. So how can you be so sure this time?’ said Elleck.
Lasserre got up from his chair, left the dining room, and came back a few moments later holding an RCA video-cassette in his hand. He put it on the table in front of Elleck. ‘I have a little home movie; if you like, after dinner we can see it. It is a tape of an Israeli, General Isser Ephraim, who is the Head of the Mossad – the Israelis’ overseas Intelligence Agency. He is one of the most powerful men in Israel, and a man whose advice, on military matters, is almost invariably acted upon. Wouldn’t you agree, Jimmy?’
Culundis nodded. ‘He is more powerful than the Israeli Minister of Defence. What he says, goes.’
Lasserre continued. ‘This tape was made at the Tel Aviv morgue. It would seem that General Isser Ephraim has an unusual pastime: he likes making love to dead boys.’
There was a long silence, punctuated only by the sound of an English commodity broking tycoon choking on vintage brandy.
‘Isser Ephraim?’ said Elleck.