The Mandarin Cypher (q-6) by ADAM HALL

Author:ADAM HALL [HALL, ADAM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf

I put on the mask.

The nerves were back to normal and it hadn't taken so long as I thought: for three hours I'd been moving around Central as free as a tourist and nobody had tried to raid me or even get on my tail, besides which Ferris hadn't been mean: it was a white summer-weight linen suit and quite a good fit and I felt a bit less like a lavatory brush with the mange. I'd kitted up again at Lane Crawford's: new suitcase, shaver, toilet things, shoes, so forth, and the case was genuine leather because I can't stand plastic, so that scaly old hell-hag in Accounts was going to cough up her brimstone when she got the bill.

I breathed in through the nose and the faceplate tightened satisfactorily and I took it off. We spent a lot of time getting a good fit for the fins: he was a helpful little man, five feet high with a crew cut and a jolly smile and the right hand off at the wrist, said it was a shark and I believed him.

'You from England?'

'Yes.'

'What part?'

'London.'

'So! I have sister in London! Beshnill Green!'

'Well I never.'

I asked him for a double hose regulator and three standard single cylinders of compressed air with reserve mechanisms and nickel-plated interiors, capacity 71 cubic feet each.

'Can you recharge these for me if I need more air?'

'No.' He shook his head beaming. 'Used to have charging-room, but had also assistant who broke valve one day. Tank went through wall here and flew three streets away, finish through side of bus!' Peals of laughter. 'Nobody hurt, but take permission from me. You get them filled at another place, I give you address.'

'Thank you.'

Tank harness with instant release buckle, lead belt, depth gauge, compass, underwater watch.

'Dry suit?'

'No, wet. Foam neoprene, have you got one?'

'Oh yes.'

Diving knife, saw-tooth edge one side, straight edge the other.

'You want shark repellent?'

'Yes.'

'Speargun?'

'No.'

'Abalone iron?'

'No.'

I had to try three wet suits on before I found the right one. It had a yellow insignia on the back as a safety marker and I'd have to cover it with black adhesive tape later.

'Do you stock chains?'

'What sort of chains?'

'To secure the tanks to the boat.'

'No. Tell you where to buy.' He gave me another address.

'I need a lamp.'

He kicked the stool over to the shelves again and jumped up and hooked down the box, catching it in the crook of his elbow. We tested the batteries and I signed a traveller's cheque, sweating a lot after trying on all those suits but feeling much better, almost back on form, even the muscles feeling smoother. Tonight I'd be getting some sleep because Ferris wouldn't be able to rustle up everything we needed before the morning. God only knew how he was planning to send me in to the objective but if it was going to be an air drop we'd obviously have to make it by night: that would be tomorrow at the earliest.

I'd hired a dark grey station wagon from Fleetway so that I could lay the air tanks flat.

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