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coast—Bridlington, Lowestoft, smaller coastal towns. They’re camouflaged as heavy-haul tractor-trailers—lorries.”
    “What is their strategic purpose? Why did McLeod allow them in?”
    Taskins took a moment to find a chair while he composed an answer. “Mr. Somerset, I’m the Ambassador to the U.K., not the national security advisor or President Robinson, and I don’t know that I have either the knowledge or the right to speak for them. But if I can remind you that there’s Communist missiles in Guiana, six minutes away from American soil—”
    “What is that to us?” Caulton interrupted caustically.
    Determinedly, Taskins continued. “Moscow has us on a very short leash. If we can adjust the balance by putting a few kilotons on their doorstep, I say it’s a good thing to do. I’m sure Prime Minister McLeod recognized that and did as much as he felt he could to aid us.”
    “Does Moscow know what’s on their doorstep?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Do you intend to tell them?” Caulton asked. “Or just start a war without warning?”
    “Hold on to reality, Bennie,” Somerset said gently. “No American President is mad enough to invite a thrashing from the Red Bear.”
    “They’re of no value unless the Russians know they’re there,” Taskins said. “Of course we’d tell Moscow. But not until the Weasels are all in place. And not unless the British government is prepared to take the heat and let them stay.”
    Extinguishing what was left of the second cigarette, Somerset walked to the window. “It seems to me that the French are as shaky now as the West Germans were in ’fifty-three. It must look very tempting to Secretary Kondratyev. Especially when they’re certain that we Brits won’t intervene because of promises made two decades ago.”
    “Their Parliament is forty percent Communist already,” Taskins said, wondering at the change of focus. “I don’t think there’d be much point to fighting over France.”
    “Perhaps not. But if Paris becomes another Red capital, John Bull is going to start wondering where it ends. I can hear the screaming in Parliament already. They’ll expect some strong action, some unambiguous warning to the Soviets to leave us be.” Somerset paused to blow a perfect smoke ring, then turned to face Taskins. “Very well. I have a message for you to relay to Washington. Tell Peter I like his style. The Weasels can stay.”
    Taskins released an audible sigh of relief. “I—”
    “In fact, I think we want more than the numbers you talked about Squadron strength, perhaps. I’ll get back to you on that. And we must discuss operational control,” Somerset said. “But the most important thing is that this has to be absolutely quiet.”
    “Understood.”
    “I don’t know if you do understand. K, what about using MI-5 as a—what’s the word I want, a test, to measure how sharp the Yank security is.”
    “Tiger team,” K said.
    “Right. A tiger team. I’d like to think we can spot leaks before the GRU can, give you a chance to recover. I do believe that our boys are sharper than theirs. It is still our country, after all.”
    “I think that would be a valuable check.” Taskins said.
    “But, Robbie—understand that we won’t take your punishment for you. If we’re caught at this, I intend to blame McLeod as loudly as I can, and I’ll expect you to pull the Weasels out of the country as fast as you can. I want your missiles in my pocket. I don’t want them thrown in my face.”
    Taskins gathered his feet under him and stood. “I understand,” he said.
    Somerset touched a flaming match to a new cigarette. “It doesn’t matter that you understand,” he said. “See that Robinson understands.””
South-West Africa, The Home Alternity
    The small twin-engined cargo plane had been flying low over the empty lands for nearly four hours. Taking off from the tiny airfield at Baia dos Tigres, at first it had followed the Atlantic coastline south, passing Cape