by Colin Forbes
He took bottles from the first jeep, handed them round. He was careful to take the bottles back. No attack force should be lumbered with anything except the weapons they'd use.
Miller again checked his watch while Brad, rather reluctantly, climbed behind the wheel of his jeep. Stu joined him. Alan and Moke cut across the road and vanished through the hole in the hedge, started crawling through the grass quickly.
Miller, his Magnum tucked inside his belt, picked up his automatic rifle, checked the action, loaded up. Then he began his climb up the slope, his long legs taking large and careful strides. Below him he heard Brad start revving up.
The tension was growing inside the quarry. Tweed glanced at his watch without letting his two companions see him do it. There were a lot of hours left while the blowtorch sun roasted them. It was a question of stamina.
Looking down, he'd seen Lisa behind the sandpile frequently talking to Newman. He almost wished Paula had stayed behind the sandpile to calm Lisa down. He glanced at Paula and she winked at him. Then the blank expression came back on to her face. She was leaning back against the bunker-like cave, showing no signs that she was in any hurry for something to happen.
'This reminds me,' Lisa was saying, 'of when I was hiding in the basement area with that tramp. Keeping so quiet while Barton and Panko spoke to him.'
'That was in Bedford Square,' Newman commented. 'Rather a long way from here.'
'But at least I'm here with you. I was thinking of when
403I'd been hit by Delgado at Reefers Wharf and was rushed to the clinic. Lying in bed I felt so frustrated because I couldn't speak.'
'But you did speak. You gave us the clues about getting to Hamburg. Which were vital.'
Keep her talking, he thought. It will keep her mind off the heat, the present situation.
'Then,' he recalled, 'you had a really tough time when you were grabbed by Delgado in Flensburg. But you saved yourself.'
'I'm glad I choked him with those handcuffs,' she said with satisfaction. 'Some people would be haunted by that kind of experience. I won't be. It was a case of him or me — and I was determined it wouldn't be me. Like Bedford Square. If Barton had come down those steps I was going to snatch the bottle from the tramp, hold it by the neck, smash it and shove it in his rotten face.'
'Well, I doubt that we'll see them again.'
The light aircraft with Barton at the controls and Panko next to him was now flying some distance away from the quarry. It was a deliberate manoeuvre on Barton's part.
'Where hell is blue Mercedes?' Panko asked.
'We'll just have to hope it reappears on the road it was on, keeping our distance well clear of that road.'
Barton was as puzzled as Panko. Earlier the Mercedes had at one moment been driving along the road, then it had vanished. The disappearing act had happened while Barton was flying the aircraft further away from the road to avoid being spotted.
When he had turned the plane round the car had gone. Barton had not seen the quarry and couldn't imagine where the car had gone. If it was hiding from them he couldn't see where it could have hidden. There were no convenient barns it might have slipped inside. No buildings of any sort as far as they could see. He took the plane to a greater altitude.
'We tell Thunder?' Panko suggested.
'Oh, that would be really smart. We phone a powerful man like that and say sorry, we've lost it. He'd give us a medal, I don't think.'
'Phone Oskar?'
'Oh, sure. Phone Oskar, a man who bites your head off when you don't get something right. Any more brilliant ideas, Panko? If you have, keep them to yourself.'
'Try to help . . .'
'Panko, I'll tell you how to help. Sit still. Keep your friggin' trap shut.'
Moke had darted through the hole in the hedge after Alan, had crawled through the deep grass, was now opposite the entrance. He held back opening fire while Alan, crawling almost at the speed of a rabbit, reached a hole facing the bottom of the slope below where Harry crouched in his cave. Alan rushed across the road, paused at the foot of the slope, looked up, saw nothing, began to ascend the slope, keeping below the rim, an automatic rifle in his right hand.
While this happened Brad, with Stu beside him, was revving up like mad. He nodded to Stu to warn him. Stu raised his automatic rifle, nursed a grenade in his lap, gripped well above his knees.
Miller was halfway up the slope on his side of the quarry, crouching low. He wanted to reach the summit while the jeep careered round the interior of the amphitheatre, keeping the enemies' heads down. He held his automatic rifle in his left hand - he was left-handed. He heard the jeep take off, wished he could see it, but dared not risk giving away his position.
By now Moke was blazing away, sending a hail of bullets at the sandpile on the left. He paused just before the jeep appeared, swung inside the quarry. Then he resumed his relentless firing. Moke thought the operation was going well.
In Tweed's cave, Paula, hearing the jeep starting to rev up, suddenly stood up, began climbing the sand slope above her before Tweed could stop her, before he could say a word.
Her ascent was swift. In her right hand she held the last grenade. Marler and Butler, stationed on the far side, saw her wriggling figure, fighting its way higher and higher. Both men were paralysed with fear for her. She was totally exposed.
'You crazy cow,' Marler said aloud, appalled, certain she wouldn't survive.
Tweed stared up, terror-stricken for the first time in his life. He had never felt more helpless, more affectionate, even thought of going up after her. Nield, also looking up, sensed what was in his mind.
'Stay where you bloody well are,' he snapped. 'Marler put us here. So here we stay.'
As he spoke he had grabbed Tweed by the arm, to imprison him in the cave. Tweed nearly hit him to gain his freedom, then realized the sense of what Nield had said so ferociously. He continued watching, unable to take his eyes off her.
Paula made a last spurt, arrived at the rim, hauled herself over, breathless but out of sight of the quarry. She looked down. She looked up. Then she saw him. A tall, massively built man with white hair. He was higher up, about thirty feet away.
She had rolled over to get clear of the rim. Now she stood up, took the pin out of the grenade, hoisted her arm, as she had once done playing netball at school. Something caused Miller to look round. He saw her, saw the grenade leave her hand, come hurtling towards him. He flung himself down, rolled away from her like a top spinning, felt the ground slope beneath his body, continued the roll. The grenade landed the other side of the slope, detonated. Shrapnel burst into the air. A sliver hit him in the chest. His flak jacket saved him, but he felt a bruised rib where the sliver had ricocheted off him, tearing a second hole in his camouflage jacket. Who cared about a bruised rib?
He stood up, pulled the Magnum .375 out of his belt, went back. Paula was looking up. His head and body appeared, no more than thirty feet from her. That was when she remembered she'd left her shoulder bag in the cave — with her Browning automatic inside it.
He aimed the Magnum at her point-blank.
The muzzle looked to her like the mouth of a cannon.
She froze, braced herself.
His eyes, staring into hers, weren't human.
He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. The firing mechanism had jammed.
'You'll get yours later, honey.'
He started hurrying up the hill towards the summit. He could have used the automatic rifle to finish her off. But the bitch had delayed him. His timetable had gone all to hell. He could hear constant shooting in the quarry below, the jeep screaming on its wheels.
Behind their sandpile Lisa and Newman had seen nothing of the near-tragedy above them. The jeep had swung in through the entrance like a torpedo. Stu was firing non-stop with his rifle, spraying gunfire round the walls of the quarry. Firing at random. Brad aimed the jeep for the blue Merc parked below the summit of the quarry.
Newman cr
ouched by the inner end of the sandpile. He had the stock of his rifle jammed into his shoulder. Bullets from Moke's fusillade were hammering into the far side of the sandpile. The sand was so dense none of them penetrated to where Lisa crouched.
Newman aimed his rifle at the jeep's driver. In his cave, Marler had the driver's head in his crosshairs. Inside his cave, Tweed was standing up, Walther gripped in both hands, aiming at the driver's chest. All three men fired at the same moment.
Newman's bullet hit the driver in the chest. Marler's bullet slammed into his head. Tweed's bullet tore through his throat. Brad collapsed, fell sideways on top of Stu. The rifle Stu had been firing left his hands, fell out of the jeep. Stu fought to take control. He heaved against Brad's corpse, saw to his horror that Brad's foot was jammed down hard against the accelerator.
The jeep went wild, began zigzagging across the floor of the quarry at top speed. Stu couldn't reach the wheel. Then it headed straight for the blue Merc. Tweed held his breath. If their car was smashed up they would be marooned in the middle of nowhere. If they survived and started walking, the sun would scorch them to cinders.
The jeep continued its mad zig-zagging. Almost making a tour of the amphitheatre. Then it zigzagged back towards their Mercedes. At the last moment it changed direction, skimming past the car, speeding now towards the rear wall of the sand quarry. Stu, hanging on to the windscreen, was horrified to see the quarry wall rushing towards them. The front half of the jeep slammed into the wall with tremendous impact. It stopped with the bonnet and the front seats buried deep inside the wall. Sand cascaded down on it. The motionless vehicle looked as though it had been sandblasted.
They were all staring at the phenomenon when Miller reached the summit. He was holding his automatic rifle ready for firing. From his dominant position he could look down and see all his enemies. He saw Tweed, decided to make him his first target. Kill the leader and the rest lose their nerve. He took careful aim.
Only Marler was not completely distracted by the weird end of the jeep. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted movement at the summit. A giant of a man with white hair, his rifle aimed across the other side of the quarry. He raised his Armalite, had the giant's chest in his cross-hairs, pressed the trigger. The bullet hit Miller in the chest. His flak jacket took the shock, largely absorbed it. The impact made Miller stagger, really bruised his ribs. He still gripped his rifle. The blow would have made most men fall down. He took two paces forward to the edge of the quarry, aimed again at Tweed.
Marler blinked.
Flak jacket, he said to himself.
He raised the Armalite slightly. In the cross-hairs he saw the giant's face. He squeezed the trigger. The bullet crushed the lower half of the face, blew it away. Miller fell forward over the edge, dropped head first a hundred feet. His body thudded on the quarry floor, lay still.
Harry was still alert. Moke was still firing through the entrance from the field opposite. Harry laid down a hail of fire on the road, then swiftly raised it a fraction. Moke saw what was coming, jumped up to run, took a volley of bullets, dropped. Suddenly there was total silence. Unlike the others, Harry had counted casualties. Five men had come to kill them. Two had been obliterated in the jeep, now half buried inside the cliff. Marler had shot the giant who had appeared on the summit. Harry himself had shot the man in the field who had fired non-stop through the entrance. That made four. Where was the fifth man?
While Miller had rushed up his slope to the summit after his failed attempt to kill Paula, Alan had been making his way up the far side more cautiously. There were rocks and some stones scattered in the grass. Alan wasn't sure of the precise position of the machine-gunner, so had been careful so far.
Harry was still very alert. In the heavy silence he heard the rattle of a stone falling behind him. Holding his Uzi at the ready, he stood up, facing the other way. Alan was yards away from him, standing up to get a better view, his rifle pointed at the figure which had suddenly risen up. Harry gave him a short burst. Alan, already dead, toppled over backwards, rolled down the slope to the bottom, lay motionless.
Paula's head and shoulders appeared over the rim of the quarry. She called down and her words echoed all round the amphitheatre.
'Hello, all of you. Is it safe to come down?' she enquired cheerfully.
Tweed felt relief surge through his whole body.
CHAPTER 38
They were driving along country lanes with Newman behind the wheel. Behind him Tweed was checking the map, navigating. Paula would have given anything for a shower. Her body was bathed all over in perspiration. She looked back at Lisa, smiled and worked her fingers over her damp hand.
'Me too,' said Lisa. 'But one day we're bound to reach civilization.'
'Let it be today . . .'
Before they had left the quarry Tweed and Marler had checked all the bodies. It had proved to be a formality. They'd had no alternative but to leave them where they lay. Ahead of them Harry was riding his motorcycle, hardly in sight. When they had parked the Mercedes under the cliff Harry had hidden his machine behind the car.
, 'Next stop, Travemiinde,' Tweed remarked. 'I'll guide you, Bob, so we bypass Lubeck.'
'And then we have to sit by the river at the cafe described by Mrs France - with large glasses of water,' said Lisa.
'Will it be Mrs France who comes to meet us?' asked Marler.
'No,' Tweed replied. 'She said Rondel would be here . . .'
They had been travelling some distance, had crossed over the autobahn beyond Bad Bramstedt, were again in lonely countryside, when Tweed suggested to Newman that he pull off the road onto the grass verge.
'I need to stretch my legs,' he explained.' 'Care to join me for a walk, Paula?'
'I'd love to. I'm going to get cramp if I sit still much longer . . .'
Newman parked the car and everyone got out, stretched, walked back and forth near the car - except for Tweed and Paula. She suspected he wanted to get her on her own because he had something he wanted to talk about. They had just started out when Harry came hurtling back on his machine. He pulled up.
'We're just going for a walk,' Tweed explained.
'You'll be OK the way you're going. I've covered miles and there's nothing. Hardly any traffic, either. Now I'm off to check no one's creeping up on us behind the car . . .'
'In this mysterious business,' Tweed began, 'no one is what they seem to be.'
'Most encouraging. Who do you think set those murderous thugs on us? Oskar Vernon?' Harry asked.
'Could be. More likely it emanated from Gavin Thunder - he immerses himself in detail. And I wonder if Danzer is still hiding out in that windmill near Sylt?'
'Why would he do that?' Paula interjected. 'Who might not be what they seem to be?'
'Mrs Gina France. I can't get it out of my head that I've seen her somewhere before,' Tweed mused.
'You did when she arrived at the Four Seasons. You'd seen her when we were leaving Rondel's mansion. She came out and gave me those beautiful hydrangeas,' Paula recalled.
'No. Before that. Earlier. I just can't place it.'
'Well, she did look different at the mansion. Plumper and muddle-headed. But that could have been the clothes she was wearing. That floral dress. The silly glasses she had on her nose, that floppy hat. She was transformed when she came to the hotel, even her personality. Clad in a flying suit and helmet, wearing huge glasses, her crisp way of speaking.'
'Weird,' said Tweed.
'But she explained,' Paula reminded him. 'She doesn't like Rondel — so she creates the impression of a disorganized mess when he's about. Doubt if he often visits the bank in Hamburg. I bet when she goes there she's in her career mode, as they say today. Stupid expression. Comes from America. Now, satisfied?'
'No. I have seen her before those two occasions you mentioned. The devil of it is I can't pinpoint where,' Tweed went on.
'I wonder where Oskar is at this moment? "Waiting for us with a reception committee in Traveműnde
? And that light aircraft has come back. It's over there.'
'No reason to suppose it's the same one.'
'Yes, there is. It has a blue insignia on its tail. So did the light aircraft I saw flying when we were first approaching Tender to spend the night there. It's sticking to us like glue. I suppose it couldn't have Barton and Panko on board,' Paula wondered.
'Rather unlikely. They're probably back in Tonder. If you remember, after the firefight in the maize field off the autobahn Harry spotted Barton and Panko climbing aboard the Land Rover Delgado escaped in. We know Delgado was in Flensburg - Lisa had that terrible ordeal with him. And where Delgado was I'm sure Barton and Panko were too. Not flying in some aircraft following us.'
Paula stopped, stood still, stamped her foot on the road. She was blazing.
'Every damned theory I come up with you shoot down.' She slapped his arm. 'What the hell's wrong with you?'
'I'm sorry, but I did have a shock when you shinned up the slope out of our cave. You seemed to be gone for ages. And I heard a grenade explode. What happened up there?' Tweed asked.
'You don't want to know.'
'Yes, I do want to know,' he said quietly. 'So please do tell me.'
'It was a bit grim.' She paused. She could still see in her mind's eye the giant aiming his gun at her, the gun with a muzzle like the mouth of a cannon. So she told him everything. He stood still with her, listening, pursing his lips as he visualized the ordeal she had experienced. At the end of her description she broke, her body trembling, and tears appeared in her eyes. She threw her arms round him, hugged him. He hugged her back, stroked her hair. She was talking into his shoulder.