by Vicki Beeby
He wasn’t such a fool he would go charging off without any backup. ‘This is serious, Jiří. I have every reason to believe Karol is a spy. I have to go after him, but I need you to alert the station commander.’
He barely waited for Jiří’s stammered, ‘Yes, sir,’ before he dashed out of the room. He was about to go down the stairs to ground level when a hand grasped his shoulder. He spun round to see Milan, hair tousled, and tunic buttoned askew.
‘What’s happening?’ Milan asked.
Alex explained in as few words as possible. Milan nodded. ‘I’ll come with you.’
There was no time to protest, and he could do with the help if things turned nasty. ‘Come on then.’
They ran outside. Alex released a shaky breath when he saw bicycles propped against the outside wall. It was a good mile to the far end of the airfield; farther, if they went around the perimeter track. He and Milan grabbed a bike each and began to pedal furiously.
‘You didn’t seem surprised about Karol,’ Alex called to Milan.
Milan seemed to have a bike with higher gears, for he kept up with remarkable ease, seeming to pedal only once for every three of Alex’s. ‘Something Jiří said at the pub got me thinking.’ Milan swept back a lock of hair from his eyes. ‘He joked that Karol might be trying to hide the fact he came from Moravia, which was why he’d got some facts wrong about Prague. But he doesn’t sound like a Moravian. Then it hit me he might be from the Sudetenland. And everything fell into place.’
Alex’s foot slipped off the pedal and his foot flailed in the air before it found the pedal again. He was only vaguely aware of the differences between the various peoples of Czechoslovakia: Moravians, Bohemians, Slovaks and Silesians, but he knew about the Sudetenland. It formed the borderland between Czechoslovakia and Germany. Although part of Czechoslovakia, a high proportion of Germans lived there. Everyone in Europe must know about the Sudetenland: it had been ceded to Germany as part of the Munich Agreement. They’d then used it as a foothold into the rest of Czechoslovakia.
‘He’s from a German family,’ Alex said more to himself than to Milan.
As Milan had said: everything fell into place once you considered Karol as German. Alex had refused to believe a Czech would sabotage aircraft intended to fight Germans, because the Czechs had good reason to hate the Nazis. But how easy for an ethnic German pilot from the Sudetenland to ‘escape’ across Europe to England, to join the ranks of Czechs and Poles doing likewise. Alex wondered with a sick knot in the pit of his stomach whether Karol had been recruited by the Germans or if he had volunteered.
The track turned to follow the line of the fence and hedge. Alex inspected it as they cycled past, looking for an area that had been disturbed, praying it would be obvious in the dark. If not, he would have to trust his instincts and head straight for the boundary with High Chalk House.
In the end, his worry was needless. When they got to the section of hedgerow between the airfield and the Waafery, there was enough moonlight to glint on the section of fence that had been cut and pulled aside. Alex swung out of his saddle and flung the bike down. ‘Give me your lighter,’ Alex said to Milan, who was crouching next to him.
Milan handed him a heavy silver lighter, warm from being in his pocket. Doing his best to shield the light from above, Alex snapped it open and examined the hedge by the light of the flickering blue flame. It was immediately obvious that Jiří had been right: not only had the fence been cut, but several of the lower branches of the hedge had been cut away, leaving a gap just large enough for a man to squeeze through. Alex wasted no time in wriggling through the gap, doing his best to shield his eyes from the dangling branches that slapped at his face. He staggered to his feet once through and heard the rustle and snapping of twigs that told him Milan was following.
‘Stop right there!’ a woman’s voice snapped.
Before Alex could respond, a tall figure loomed in the darkness. Then whoever it was stumbled, emitting a distinctly feminine squeak. She grabbed Alex’s arm, pulling him off balance, and they both tumbled to the ground. He struggled to disentangle himself, then blinked when a light shone in his face for a brief instant.
‘Squadron Leader Kincaith!’ the voice gasped.
Staggering to his feet, he found himself face to face with a tall WAAF. ‘May?’ he said, rubbing his bruised arm.
Rustling from the hedge told him Milan was forcing his way into the garden. ‘Where were you when I was being attacked by an Amazon?’ he asked, when Milan emerged, leaves tangled in his hair.
Another figure materialised from the gloom. ‘Apologies for the reception, sir.’ Alex recognised Flight Officer Ellerby’s voice. ‘Lidford came to me with an unbelievable story of spies cutting through the hedge, so I asked her to show me.’
‘It might be incredible, but I have a horrible feeling it’s true.’ Alex turned to May. ‘Did you see where he went?’
‘Up into the fields. Evie and Jess followed him.’
Alex felt as though he’d been stabbed through the chest. ‘Evie?’ he gasped. At the same moment, Milan said, ‘Jess?’
Alex turned on the flight officer. ‘What possessed you to send them?’
‘I didn’t. They had already gone by the time Lidford woke me.’
It was almost impossible to think when his whole mind was screaming that Evie was in danger. Alex had never known such terror, even when bullets were smashing through his cockpit. ‘I’m going after them.’ It was the only thing to do. Gradually his frozen mind started to work again, switching into the detached state it usually went into when he was in combat. He turned to Ellerby. ‘I’ve sent one of my pilots to report to the station commander, but I’m worried he won’t be believed.’
‘I’ll telephone him myself,’ Ellerby said.
‘Tell him we need armed men up here on the double. As many as he can muster.’
He didn’t wait for anything more but set off at a run, Milan on his heels.
‘What do you think Karol’s going to do?’ Milan panted as they passed the dim outline of the stone lions flanking the entrance and turned onto the lane.
‘Only one thing I can think of.’ He’d considered all angles as they’d cycled around the airfield, and only one scenario explained why Karol would need to go up into the open fields, why the road had been bombed, isolating them from outside help. ‘Parachutists.’ It was impossible to say more when he was running so fast the blood roared and pulsed in his ears.
And if they didn’t find Evie and Jess before they arrived, the two girls wouldn’t be up against just one man, but many, maybe dozens. All armed and trained to kill.
As if summoned by his fears, the dull, ominous drone of aero engines swelled, barely perceptible above his own heartbeat at first but growing louder all the time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Evie wriggled to find a more comfortable position as she peered out from between the broad leaves of the hazel thicket she and Jess were hiding in, lying prone to avoid being seen. It was impossible to find a spot on the ground that wasn’t a mass of twisted roots. She shifted to edge away from a knotted lump digging into her left hip, only to find another root sticking into her stomach. Fallen hazelnuts crunched under her hands.
‘What’s he doing?’ Jess’s voice was little more than a breath, timed to coincide with the stir of the breeze rustling the leaves.
Evie looked across again at the field, straining her eyes against the darkness. The cloud was clearing now, revealing patches of star-studded sky. The light was just enough to allow her to see Karol’s dark shape, motionless, maybe a hundred yards from the hedgerow. Evie could hear rather than see the sway of ripe barley in the field, the faint hiss of the breeze caressing the stems, the barely perceptible rattle of heavy seed heads knocking against each other.
‘No idea,’ she replied. ‘He’s just standing there.’
It was a complete mystery. If he was going to transmit information, why had he come all the way up here? There we
re plenty of places where he could conceal himself that were far closer to the station than this large field. Frustration welled up inside her. She had hoped to see evidence of Karol’s treachery, but what did she have to report? She could just see herself going to Alex and saying, ‘I watched him stand in a field for half an hour.’ If they were caught out alone when they should be in the Waafery, they could wave goodbye to any chance of promotion.
Then she heard a sound. A distant rumble. It faded in and out of her perception for a while. Each time it disappeared, she strained to hear, wondering if she had imagined it, then the sound would swell again, a little louder than before. Only when it was an unremitting drone did it finally dawn on her what she was hearing.
‘Aeroplanes!’ she said to Jess.
Jess had her head cocked to the sky. ‘Just one, I think. More than one engine. Why haven’t our lot picked it up?’
‘It must have flown low enough to avoid detection,’ she whispered back. But why hadn’t their observers reported it? Then she remembered Karol, always strolling around the station when he wasn’t flying, conversing with anyone and everyone. ‘Oh, my goodness. What if Karol’s found out where all the observers are based? He could have signalled their position so a single aircraft could slip past unnoticed.’ A large group of hostile aircraft would be less likely to go undetected, but one… If the pilot knew the locations to avoid, it might be possible.
She kept her eyes fixed on Karol as she spoke, and gripped Jess’s arm when she saw him lower his satchel to the ground and pull something out. ‘What’s he got?’
A split second later, a beam of light emanated from Karol’s hand and stabbed the sky. It flashed rapidly on and off four times, then a pause, then another four flashes. It continued in that pattern until a shadow blotted out the stars and the drone roared to a crescendo.
Evie gripped Jess’s arm even harder. ‘He’s signalling to a bomber!’ But even as she said it, she knew it didn’t make sense. If the Germans had come to bomb Amberton, Karol would send his signal from the airfield, not up in this empty field. She had never felt so helpless. Whatever Karol was planning, there was nothing she and Jess could do to stop him. All they could do was watch, hoping Karol wouldn’t see them, and pray May had got the message through to Alex and the others at Amberton that they needed help up here.
The aircraft appeared to be directly overhead now, and Evie tensed, waiting for the whistle of a bomb. But nothing happened. The drone of aero engines faded and rose to a crescendo as though circling, then it faded into the distance, heading south, and didn’t return.
Evie heard Jess release a shaky breath beside her. ‘What just happened?’
Various scenarios poured through Evie’s mind, but none of them made sense. Then before she could answer, a dark shape drifted past her eyes from above and struck the ground with a thud. She had to bite her lips to prevent a cry of shock giving away their presence. Beside her, she heard Jess’s sharp indrawn breath. Suddenly everything was clear.
She pulled Jess close and whispered, ‘Parachutists.’
She felt rather than saw Jess’s answering nod. She kept her eyes fixed on the patch of ground, no more than fifty feet in front of her, where she had seen the shape hit the ground. Her heart hammered against her ribs; the blood sang in her ears. She could only pray the parachutist didn’t hear their shaky breaths, because try as she might, she couldn’t control her breathing. Her lungs felt as though they were starved of oxygen, and she couldn’t prevent herself from drawing great gulping breaths in a desperate attempt to drag more air into her body.
The object on the ground didn’t move. The more she stared, the more convinced she became that it was the wrong shape for a man. Unless he was lying with his arms and legs drawn up. Evie’s eyes ached from the effort of trying to pierce the darkness. Still there was no movement. A mad impulse seized her to scream, do anything to release the unbearable tension coiled in her chest.
‘Why isn’t he moving?’ Jess whispered.
In fact, there was movement on the ground, some distance from the object. It looked like the ground itself was rising and falling slightly with each breath of a breeze. A flood of calm swept over her as it dawned on Evie what she was seeing: a parachute canopy. Gradually she was able to get her breathing under control, and she realised she was clutching Jess’s arm so tight her fingers were digging into the bone. She blew out a shaky breath and relaxed her grip.
‘It’s not a man,’ she replied, doing her best to time her words with the breeze stirring the hedgerow. ‘It’s a package. Must be equipment for whoever else arrived.’ She knew what they had to do. She crawled on hands and knees out of the shelter of the branches and paused on the edge of the field, listening for any sign of movement nearby. When she was satisfied no one was close, she hissed at Jess, ‘Come on. Quick. We need to grab that package and hide it.’
Jess crawled out beside her and rose to her feet, but Evie grabbed her arm and pulled her down. ‘Stay low. They might see your silhouette.’
Crouched almost double, they made their way towards the object. Evie continually darted glances around, aware that Karol and, presumably, the other parachutists must be seeking this package. Just as she reached it, a high-pitched yelp sounded in the distance. Evie nearly jumped out of her skin, her heart pounding like a piston. She went limp with relief when she realised it was a fox.
The parcel was firmly bound in some kind of tarpaulin. It was roughly cubic, about the length of her arm. Groping her way around it, Evie’s hands met the parachute lines, still attached to the bundle. ‘Help me drag it over to the hedge,’ she whispered to Jess.
Whatever the bundle contained, it wasn’t light, but working together they were able to drag it back towards the hedgerow where they’d been concealed. The crunch and rustle of it dragging through the tall barley filled the air. Surely whoever else was here must hear and would be homing in upon them. Evie’s hands grew damp with perspiration; the thin cords slipped through her fingers, burning her palms. If the enemy found them, Evie had no doubt they would be brutally silenced. Jess, too, seemed to be fully aware of their danger. Evie could see her throwing looks over her shoulder as they heaved the heavy weight, her breaths rapid and shaky.
‘Nearly there,’ Evie whispered, as much to reassure herself as Jess, after she felt the barley give way behind her and she staggered backwards onto the narrow path at the edge of the field.
Panting, they gave one last heave and pulled the bundle into the hedgerow. Evie wanted to scream with each crack of the twigs. If they could only get the package out of sight before anyone came to investigate, it would buy them enough time to fetch help while the parachutists were searching for their supplies. The hedgerow consisted of a line of hazel bushes interspersed with elders and blackthorn. As luck would have it, they reached the edge of the field beside a patch of blackthorn thicket. Investigating, Evie discovered the gnarled stems formed a structure almost like a tunnel, making a natural cave in the centre of the bushes.
‘In here!’ As they pushed, Evie caught sight of two figures striding towards them. With one last shove, she pushed the bundle deep into the thicket, then grabbed Jess’s arm and pulled her deeper into the hedge. Her throat was so tight she couldn’t have made a sound even had she wanted to, but the pressure of a scream was building up in her chest.
Then her foot caught in a root and she plunged to the ground, dragging Jess down with her. She scrambled to her knees instantly, but too late. The two men must have heard them, and they plunged into the hedgerow. A hand grabbed her collar and yanked her to her feet. Beside her she could see the other man grasp Jess by the arm and pull her up.
Then the man holding Evie spoke. ‘Evie. Thank God. Are you all right?’
There was no mistaking the soft Scottish burr. Evie sagged, clutching Alex’s arm, grateful for his strength. ‘I’m fine.’ Those were all the words she could manage at first. She gulped for breath, waiting for her heartbeat to ease. Behind her she heard Alex’
s companion talk to Jess and recognised Milan. But there was no time to lose. She fought to get the words out. ‘Karol’s out there. Signalling parachutists.’
‘I know.’ Alex’s voice was grim. ‘What in the blazes are you playing at? You could have been killed.’
Something inside Evie snapped, and nothing could hold back her frustration, not even the presence of enemies. ‘Maybe if you’d listened to me earlier, I wouldn’t have to be here.’
Alex released a long breath, and she could make out enough of his outline to see him rub the back of his neck. ‘We don’t have time for this. How many are out there?’
No apology, then. She shoved the thought aside for later and shook her head. ‘We couldn’t see. But we did find a bundle.’ In a low voice she described what she and Jess had seen and done. Time enough to explain herself to Alex once they’d found Karol and the parachutists.
* * *
Alex did his best to control a wave of fear while he listened to Evie blithely describe how she and Jess had marched into the barley field without a thought of the danger they were in. Later he would drum some sense of personal safety into her. For now, he had to stop Karol before they all got killed.
‘Where’s Karol now?’
But before Evie had a chance to do more than draw a breath to answer, a series of four brief flashes flickered somewhere near the centre of the field.
‘That’s him,’ Evie hissed. ‘It’s the same code he used when the plane came overhead.’
He must be signalling to the parachutists, to bring them together from their scattered locations. Alex knew enough about parachuting in a group to know it was almost impossible to land together. They could be hundreds of yards away. An idea struck.
‘You and Jess wait here. Don’t move! Milan, you’re with me.’
There was no time to explain his plan, so he could only hope Evie would do as she was told. With Milan at his shoulder, he moved through the barley, praying that if Karol heard them, he would assume they were the parachutists. He headed in the direction of the flashes, hoping he didn’t drift off course in the dark.