The Golden Rendezvous by Alistair MacLean Read Free Book Online Page A

going to do with this weapon-the twister, they call it, isn't it? Even if he does get it out of the country? who's going to buy it?
    I mean, as nuclear devices go it could be ranked almost as a toy: it certainly isn't going to change the balance of world power, no matter who gets his hands on it."
    "Tony's right," miguel carreras agreed. "Who is going to buy it?
    besides, there's nothing secret any more about the making of nuclear weapons. If a country has enough wealth and technical resources-so far there are only four in the world-it can build a nuclear weapon any time.
    If it hasn't, all the plans or working models in the world are useless to them."
    "He's going to have an interesting time in hawking the twister around," tony carreras finished. "Especially since from all descriptions you can't get the twister into a suitcase. But what's this guy got to do with us, mr. carter?"
    "As long as he is at large every cargo vessel leaving the eastern seaboard gets a pretty thorough going over to make sure that neither he nor the twister is aboard. lows up the turn-round of cargo and passenger ships by 100 per cent, which means that the longshoremen are losing stevedoring money pretty fast. They've gone on strike-and the chances are, so many words have been said on both sides, that they'll stay on strike when they do nab dr. caroline. If."
    "Traitor," said miss harrbride. "Thirteen generations!"
    "So we stay away from the east coast, eh?" carreras senior asked.
    "Meantime, anyway?"
    "As long as possible, sir. But new york is a must. When, I don't know. But if it's still strike-bound, we might go up the st. Lawrence first. Depends."
    "Romance, mystery, and adventure." carreras smiled. "Just like your brochure said." he glanced over my shoulder. "Looks like a visitor for you, mr. carter." I twisted in my seat. It was a visitor for me. Rusty williams-rusty, from his shock of flaming hair-was advancing towards me, whites immaculately pressed, uniform cap clasped stiffly under his left arm. Rusty was sixteen, our youngest cadet, desperately shy and very impressionable. Cadets were not normally allowed in the dining room and rusty's eyes were goggling as they took in the young ladies at the captain's table, but he managed to haul them back to me as he halted by my side with a perceptible click of his heels. "What is it, rusty?" age-old convention said that cadets should always be addressed by their surnames, but everyone called rusty just that. It seemed impossible not to. "The captain's compliments, sir.
    Could he see you on the bridge, please, mr. carter?"
    "I'll be right up." rusty turned to leave and I caught the gleam in susan beresford's eye, a gleam that generally heralded some crack at my expense. This one predictably would be about my indispensability, about the distraught captain sending for his trusty servant when all was lost, and although I didn't think she was the sort of girl to say it in front of a cadet, 1 wouldn't have wagered pennies on it, so I rose hastily to my feet, said, "excuse me, miss harrbride, excuse me, gentlemen," and followed rusty quickly out of the door into the starboard alleyway. He was waiting for me. "The captain is in his cabin, sir. He'd like to see you there."
    "What? you told me-"
    "I know, sir. He told me to say that. Mr. jamieson is on the bridge"-george jamieson was our third officer-"and captain Bullen is in his cabin. With mr. cummings." I nodded and left. I remembered now that cummings hadn't been at his accustomed table as i'd come out, although he'd certainly been there at the beginning of dinner. The captain's quarters were immediately below the bridge and I was there in ten seconds. I knocked on the polished teak door, heard a gruff voice, and went in. The blue mail certainly did its commodore well. Even captain Bullen, no admirer of the sybaritic life, had never been heard to complain of being pampered. He had a three room-and-bathroom suite,
    done in the best millionaire's taste, and