“Yes,” said the American.

“Tell his father to wait until he’s contacted. And then cooperate. If he tries anything, with the authorities or any people like you, we’ll kill the boy. You got that?”

“Yes,” said Williams again.

A fifth man appeared in the doorway with a gunlike object in his hand. None of the three men recognized it as an immunization compressor which injects without the necessity of a needle. There was a hiss as the man fired against the necks of the American and the driver and into the hand of the second Arab. Unconsciousness was almost immediate.

“They’re not hurt,” said the curly-haired man to the boy.

Azziz looked fearlessly across the car at him. “Get this gun away from my head,” he said. “It hurts.”

The man nodded and the pressure was relaxed.

“You won’t be harmed,” said the man. “Not if you do what you’re told. You’re going to get out of this car and be taken to another. If you try to attract any attention, we’ll shoot your legs away. You won’t die, but you’ll be crippled for life. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Azziz.

“All right,” said the man. “Now get out.”

The boy got out of the car, fully aware for the first time of the number of men who had crowded around the vehicle, shielding what was happening from anyone else who might have entered the car park.

“You’re idiots,” said Azziz. “Do you have any idea what sort of man my father is?”

“We know exactly what he is,” said the man. “That’s why we’ve got you.”

The Liberian-registered and appropriately named Bellicose, a freighter of 25,000 tons, sailed from Genoa in ballast, making easy passage with the coast of Italy and France always in sight until it reached Marseilles. Captain Sven Erlander let his first officer go ashore to arrange the loading, while he completed the official record from the rough log. He was still working on it when Raoul Edmunson entered the cabin.