ithhangoversusetheoxygentocureheadaches.)Hetriedthecottonwoolagainandthistimeitfrozeon.

    Hehadabouttwentyminutes.Afterthatthebatterytemperaturewithinthebombwouldriseagain.Butfornowthefuzewasicedupandhecouldbegintoremoveit.

    Heranhispalmsupanddownthebombcasetodeteyripsial.Thesubmergedsewouldbesafe,butoxygencouldigcameintotactwithexposedexplosive.Carlyle’sflaw.XoverY.Iftherewereripstheywouldhavetouseliquidnitrogen.

    “It’satwo-thousand-poundbomb,sir.Esau.”Hardy’svoithetopofthemudpit.

    “Type-markedfifty,inacircle,B.Twofuzepockets,mostlikely.Butwethinkthesedoneisprobablynotarmed.

    Okay?”Theyhaddiscussedallthiswitheachotherbefore,butthingswerebeingfirmed,rememberedforthefinaltime.

    “Putmeonamicrophonenowaback.”“Okay,sir.”Kipsmiled.HewastenyearsyouhanHardy,andnoEnglishman,butHardyiestinthecoimentaldiscipliherewasalwayshesitationbythesoldierstocallhim“sir,”butHardybarkeditoutloudahusiastically.

    Hewaswfastnowtopriseoutthefuze,allthebatteriesi.

    “youhearme?Whistle....Okay,Iheardit.Alasttoppingupwithoxygen.Willletitbubbleforthirtyseds.Thenstart.Freshenthefrost.Okay,I’mgoingtoremovethedam,...Okay,damgone.”Hardywaslisteningtoeverythingandrecitincasesomethiwrong.OnesparkandKipwouldbeinashaftofflames.Ortherecouldbeajokerinthebomb.Thepersonwouldhavetosiderthealternatives.

    “I’musingthequilterkey.”Hehadpulleditoutofhisbreastpocket.Itwascoldaorubitwarm.Hebegantoremovethelogring.ItmovedeasilyaoldHardy.

    “They’regingguardatBughamPalace