the Iron Tiger (v5)

by Jack Higgins

  The wireless operator climbed up on the fence and swung a leg over. There was a sudden cry and a group of Chinese appeared about forty yards to the left. Several of them fired at once and he screamed and fell backwards into the yard, clutching his face.

  Sher Dil scrambled through a gap in the fence and started up the slope and Drummond went after him, weaving desperately from side to side as the Chinese continued to fire. He was aware of Hamid hard on his heels, of Sher Dil disappearing over the rim of the escarpment.

  He could taste blood in his mouth as he clawed his way up, slipping on the wet earth, and then the jagged rocks on the skyline loomed above him. He went over the top, head down, sobbing for breath and tripped over an outstretched foot.

  He had one brief impression of Sher Dil sliding down the steep slope of shale to the river below, picking himself up at the bottom and plunging into the water, and then they moved out of the swirling smoke to surround him, small and misshapen in their quilted uniforms, each carrying a rifle that seemed too large for him, an old-fashioned sword bayonet on the end.

  Hamid was lying on the ground a few yards away and a soldier stood over him, a foot on his neck. Drummond backed against a boulder and the brown peasant faces moved in on him.

  7

  Edge of the Sword

  THE town gaol was one of the few major buildings left undamaged by the attack, and from the small cell on the corner of the second floor, Drummond had an interesting view of the city through the barred window.

  It was 10 a.m., four hours since the initial attack, but smoke still drifted across the stricken city through the heavy rain and a heavy grey mist moved up from the river and crouched at the end of the streets.

  It was unbelievably cold and rain drifted in a fine spray through the bars as Drummond dropped to the ground. 'It's going to be an early winter this year. I feel it in my bones.'

  'For us, a matter of academic interest only,' Hamid said from his bunk.

  'You think so?'

  There was the sullen chatter of a machine gun from down by the river and Hamid smiled bleakly. 'There's your answer. Nothing like cutting down on the opposition. They haven't stopped since this morning.'

  'Then why have they let us last this long? Why the special treatment?'

  There was no time for a reply. A key grated in the lock, the door opened and a small sergeant stepped in, flanked by two privates armed with sub-machine guns. Hamid got to his feet and the sergeant shook his head.

  'Not you, this one.'

  They pushed Drummond into the corridor before he had a chance to say anything, and the door clanged into place with a grim finality.

  The sergeant turned without a word and started along the corridor and Drummond followed, the two privates bringing up the rear. They mounted a flight of stone steps to the top floor and halted outside a door. The sergeant knocked, listened for a moment and then led the way in.

  The room had once been the governor's office. The walls were hung with Bohara rugs, sheepskins covered the floor and logs burned in the large stone fireplace.

  A Chinese officer stared down into the fire, one foot on the hearth, and tapped his booted leg with a leather swagger stick impatiently. The heavy greatcoat with the fur collar which swung from his shoulders carried the epaulets of a full colonel.

  He turned and examined Drummond calmly. 'You don't look too good, Jack.'

  'No thanks to you, you bastard.'

  'Nothing personal, Jack. We just happen to be on different sides. Regrettable, but true.'

  'What are you, Military Intelligence?'

  'That's right.'

  'Am I allowed to ask for how long you've been making a monkey out of them back on Formosa?'

  'I've never been to Formosa,' Cheung said. 'The Nationalists did have an agent called Cheung and they did send him on a mission to Nikkim. He got as far as Singapore. I took his place from there.'

  'What about the guns I flew into Tibet and Moro and his boys? All that was a fake, too, I suppose?'

  'An elaborate pretence which enabled me to communicate constantly with my superiors to help pave the way for the regaining of what has always been legally a part of the Chinese Empire by the Army of the People's Republic.'

  'I can do without the speeches,' Drummond said. 'Where did Famia fit in?'

  'She and her mother were of no particular importance. I paid them well to keep me informed of your movements.'

  'You speak in the past tense.'

  'Only where Famia is concerned. She was struck in the head by a piece of sharpnel back at the airstrip.'

  Remembering the months of pretence, Drummond dismissed her with no particular regret. 'Do you really think you're going to get away with this?'

  'Why not?' Cheung said. 'India will not interfere. She is interested only in maintaining the status quo and the two countries have never had a mutual defence pact. In the United Nations, there will be an emergency session, they will talk far into the night and do precisely nothing. No one wants to rock the boat, Jack. A phrase you taught me.'

  'You've got it all nicely worked out, haven't you?'

  'Except for one rather important detail. The Khan is dead, which is something of a convenience, but these are a superstitious people, and to them the Khan is priest as well as king. Prince Kerim can be his only successor.'

  'And as such, an obstacle to the setting up of a People's Republic.'

  'Not at all.' Cheung smiled briefly. 'With our guidance, he could be of great help to his people. He could lead them along the true path.'

  'Now I've heard everything,' Drummond said.

  'Good, then perhaps you will be sensible enough to help me in this matter. After all, you always did have an eye to the main chance. Where is the boy?'

  Drummond stared at him in astonishment. 'You mean you don't know?'

  'He is not at the mission. Neither are Father Kerrigan nor the American girl. My men have spent hours checking the crowds and searching the immediate area of the city.'

  'And you expect me to help?'

  'I know you went straight to the mission from your bungalow after Brackenhurst brought you news of the invasion. Famia told me.'

  Drummond decided to take refuge in the truth. 'That's right. We left my jeep and told Father Kerrigan to pack up as quickly as possible and meet us at the airstrip. Your men moved too fast for him, I suppose.'

  'But Brackenhurst also is proving difficult to locate. You arranged an alternative plan in case of trouble. I know you, Jack. I know how your mind works.'

  'Can I go now?'

  'You might find it wiser to co-operate. I could make things easier for you.'

  'Do me a favour, for God's sake,' Drummond said. 'That's like a line from a bad play.'

  Colonel Cheung stared at him, apparently calm, the leather swagger stick beating against his right boot. 'All right, take him away, Sergeant,' he said abruptly in Chinese. 'Bring the other one.'

  Drummond paused in the doorway and shook his head. 'Now you really are wasting your time,' he said.

  Chinese headquarters had been set up at the palace and the commanding officer, General Ho Tsen, stood on the terrace and looked out over the garden. He seemed far from happy and paced up and down impatiently.

  There was a slight cough from behind and he turned to find Cheung standing in the window. 'You have found him?' he demanded eagerly.

  'I'm afraid not, General.'

  Ho Tsen slammed a hand hard down on the balustrade. 'This is your direct responsibility, Colonel I expected to find the boy ready and waiting when I arrived.'

  'It seems that the priest and the American girl left the mission with the boy shortly before our men arrived. We've confirmed this by questioning herdsmen at a camp up river. I've just had a report that their jeep has been found abandoned ten miles north of here at a village called Quala. There was a vehicle ferry there which has apparently been destroyed so I'm assuming they've crossed by boat. A Land Rover belonging to the man Brackenhurst has been found in
the same place.

  'Has the patrol gone after them?'

  'Unfortunately there were no other boats. The village was quite deserted. Obviously the entire population had crossed over. Since then the level of the water has risen with the rains.'

  'Is there any place where the river may be crossed with vehicles?'

  'Certainly not here. The current was always too swift for a ferry.'

  Cheung spread out a map on a wrought iron table. 'Twenty miles north of here at Kama. The river is very wide and shallow there. We could cross in half-tracks.' His finger traced a line to the border. 'There is only one road to India and they have no transport, remember. We should catch them easily. They must stay on the road. The priest is an old man and in any case, with the woman and the boy, he couldn't hope to get through the mountains on foot by any other route.'

  Ho Tsen nodded. 'I hope so, for your sake. Pekin will not be pleased if you fail. I will also send other patrols south on this side of the river in troop carriers. They should find boats sooner or later. Once across, they can proceed on foot and cut the road ahead of you.'

  'An excellent idea.'

  Ho Tsen put a cigarette in his mouth and leaned to the match Cheung offered. 'One thing worries me. What if the priest had an alternative plan? Perhaps a vehicle waiting on the other side. It would explain why they did not drive north to Kama and attempt to cross in the jeep. This man Drummond you spoke of? You are certain he knows nothing?'

  'He is a difficult man to be sure of and the Pathan is as stubborn as the breed usually are.'

  'You have exhausted the accepted methods?'

  'They take time, General, and in any case, Drummond must be preserved for a more searching examination in Pekin.'

  'Why is this?'

  'He is known to have worked for British Intelligence.'

  'I see!'

  Cheung hesitated. 'I would like to have one last try before leaving in case they do have information of value. A small subterfuge which often has remarkable results.'

  'Which sounds interesting,' General Ho Tsen said. 'I think I shall accompany you, Colonel. Let us hope I'm not wasting my time.'

  The wind across the river was like a bayonet in the back and Drummond shivered as it cut into him. He flexed his hands to ease his cramped muscles and winced with pain as the wire that was twisted about his wrists bit into his flesh.

  Hamid was next to him and on the other side one of Sher Dil's soldiers in tattered uniform was silently weeping. Every few moments the man coughed and a trickle of blood came from his mouth. After a while, he slumped on his face and lay motionless. The guards standing talking a few yards away took no notice.

  Two troop carriers, half-tracks biting into the mud, drove up and parked thirty or forty yards away, each containing a dozen men and a heavy machine gun mounted on a pivot.

  Drummond eased back on to his heels and looked along the line of kneeling men. There were at least thirty of them, mostly Sher Dil's soldiers with a few tribesmen who'd been caught carrying weapons. In his mind's eye he saw them keel over one by one as the machine gun curved in an arc and finally reached him and he shuddered.

  A jeep drove up and parked behind the troop carriers and Hamid said quickly, 'We've got company, Jack.'

  Cheung walked across the broken ground towards them, General Ho Tsen at his side. They paused a few yards away and the General said calmly, 'These are the men?'

  Cheung nodded. 'They both speak Chinese.'

  'Excellent.' The General came closer. 'Let us not waste any more time, gentlemen, I find this rain most unpleasant. We wish to know the whereabouts of the Catholic priest and the young Khan. If you are sensible and help us, I will see that you are well treated. If not ...'

  Drummond and Hamid stared up at him without speaking and Cheung sighed with exasperation. 'You're a damned fool, Jack,' he said in English. 'You always were. We've found the jeep at Quala which means they've crossed the river. They won't get far, I promise you.'

  He and the General turned and walked back to the troop carriers. Ho Tsen climbed into the shelter of the jeep and Cheung looked up at the sergeant who stood beside the heavy machine gun in the first troop carrier.

  'You have your orders. Stop firing when you reach the Indian and the Englishman. If you harm either of them, I'll have your head.'

  He climbed into the jeep beside the General and Ho Tsen smiled and offered him a cigarette. 'You were quite right, Colonel. This should prove most interesting.'

  Drummond stared at the sodden earth, numb with cold and waited for what was to come. He wondered about Father Kerrigan and Janet and the boy, somewhere on the other side of the river in the mist, and prayed that the old man would have the sense to keep on the move. But the Indian border was a long way off all of three hundred miles.

  A burst of shrill, girlish laughter came from the Chinese and he stiffened. They strutted towards the line of prisoners, their thin voices bird-like on the wind and Drummond dropped his head and waited.

  A boot thudded into his chest and he rolled on his face and fought for breath. The wire was torn from his wrists and a kick in the side drove him to his feet. The Chinese soldier grinned amiably and held out a spade.

  Drummond glanced once at Hamid and they started to dig. The soil was soft and sandy and lifted easily. Beside them the other prisoners worked silently, and as Drummond bent to his task, he knew with a feeling of utter hopelessness that it wouldn't take very long.

  The rain increased into a heavy downpour and the Chinese turned and ran to the shelter of their vehicles leaving one man on guard, a sub-machine gun crooked in one arm.

  The trench was now a couple of feet down and Drummond wondered how deep they wanted it. Six feet was the statutory requirement for a grave back home, but it was unlikely that the Chinese bothered about such niceties.

  He leaned on his spade for a moment and Hamid moved closer. 'I don't suppose we've got much longer,' Drummond said.

  Hamid glanced once over his shoulder at the mist rolling up from the river. 'Not if I can help it. Any good at the hundred yard dash, Jack?'

  Drummond frowned in bewilderment. 'What in the hell are you talking about?'

  'This,' Hamid said crisply and slapped him heavily in the face.

  As Drummond staggered back, momentarily dazed, the guard hurried across to see what the disturbance was about. He leaned over the trench, the sub-machine gun pointed threateningly and Hamid swung the edge of the spade against his neck. The man fell into the trench without a sound.

  The rain was now a heavy grey curtain that almost shrouded them from the troop carriers and the jeep. Hamid snatched up the guard's sub-machine gun, scrambled out of the trench and ran towards the river. Drummond went after him, slipping and stumbling in the mud.

  Behind him he heard a cry and glanced over his shoulder. The other prisoners were strung out in a ragged line, running for dear life. Beyond them, the first Chinese had already reached the trench, firing as they advanced, and one of the troop carrier's heavy machine guns opened up above their heads.

  The river was very close now and he increased his pace as he smelled water. A bullet plucked at his heel and he tripped and fell heavily. Hamid was beside him in an instant. He dragged him to his feet and together they stumbled down the slope to the water.

  The river was in a sullen, angry mood. It ran smoothly through the heavy rain, but sudden swirls on the surface indicated dangerous currents and the speed with which tree branches drifted by argued against any attempt to reach the other side.

  There was a rattle of stones and earth behind and one of Sher Dil's soldiers ran past, his face purple with effort so that a scar which stretched from one eye to the corner of his mouth gleamed whitely. He plunged into the water and began to swim furiously.

  In a few moments, the swift current had carried him out of sight into the heavy rain. Others followed, some bleeding from wounds, crying with fear as they stumbled down the slope and flung themselves into the river.

 
'They won't last five minutes,' Hamid shouted. 'The water must be near freezing.'

  A bullet landed at their feet, showering them with dirt. He turned as four Chinese appeared at the top of the slope and swung the sub-machine gun in a wide arc, firing from the hip. Two of them crumpled to the ground.

  As their companions dropped behind an outcrop of rock, several more appeared on the skyline and Hamid drove them back with a long burst that emptied the gun.

  As one of the troop carriers came into view, Hamid tossed the useless weapon to one side and they ran into the river and splashed through the shallows towards a line of dense, thorny bushes that grew down into the water. Bullets churned around them and then they were waist deep and hidden by the rain.

  The water was bitterly cold and Drummond could feel it eating its way into his bones. They could hear the cries of the soldiers coming nearer and began to move further downstream aided by the strong current.

  The land curved out for about fifty yards making a natural breakwater, imprisoning a floating mass of smashed trees and branches. They pushed towards it and the current, taking pity on them, swept them into the safety of the floating jungle.

  They rested side by side, holding the branches of a tree, gasping for breath. Voices came from the shore and half a dozen soldiers appeared, pushing their way through the bushes along the water's edge.

  They were no more than ten yards away from the shore and through the branches Drummond could see the Chinese clearly, the peaked caps pulled down over the eyes, the red star prominent, the shining Burp guns and rubber, knee-length boots.

  The breathless minutes passed slowly and the cold gradually numbed their limbs. The soldiers appeared to be having a conference. After a while, they split into pairs and disappeared into the driving rain.

  'Now what?' Drummond said.

  'Only one thing for it,' Hamid said, his lips blue with the cold. 'We'll have to try to get across on one of these logs. They'll be swarming around like flies on this side of the river. We wouldn't last five minutes.'

  He let go of the tree and splashed to the next one, progressing slowly through the floating mass and Drummond followed. When they reached the edge, they found a large tree that was already swinging out into the river, straining to be free.