By Stealth tac-9

by Colin Forbes

  It was still daylight but the light was fading. The wind was still blowing and as Hyde continued arranging his instruments there was a banging sound. The shutter had come loose again. They had switched on the fluorescent strip when they entered – and this made keeping her closed eyes still more difficult. Hyde swore foully.

  `You stupid cow! You still haven't fixed that damned shutter. Do I have to do everything for myself?'

  Obviously, Paula thought vaguely, Hyde had forgotten that Starmberg was the one who had most recently attended to the closing of the shutter. As the vacuum went on purring she heard the scape of the chair across the floor. Hyde was about to stand on it to fasten it once more.

  `Your clumsy fingers!' Hyde railed as Paula heard again the chair creaking, protesting under the weight of a human being standing on it. Human being? she thought. That was a misnomer if ever there was one – Hyde was a monster.

  There was another bang as Hyde pulled the shutter closed, then the scraping of metal as he struggled with the catch. Hearing – not seeing – was becoming unbearable. Paula gritted her teeth, heard the chair being pushed back into its position against the wall.

  The purring of the vacuum cleaner stopped. There was a forbidding silence. She might have been alone for a few brief seconds. Then Hyde spoke.

  'Take that thing away. Prepare the bowl of hot water. It must be boiling hot for sterilization of my instruments.'

  The heavy clump of Ilena's elephantine footsteps mounting the stairs. The door opening, closing again. She was now alone with Hyde. Thin talon-like fingers grasped her by one arm, shook her vigorously. She opened her eyes slowly. Dr Hyde was smiling down at her.

  `As you will see, Miss Grey, the operating table is ready. Now there is nothing to worry about. I am going to give you an injection which will put you to sleep. Then I will move you on to the table…'

  With Butler following close behind in his own Volvo, Marler had driven at speed to 'Fonder. The sky was a sea of grey clouds scudding above him in the wind. He arrived, driving slowly now, in the cobbled street where his lodging house was situated.

  To his surprise he saw a grey BMW parked on the opposite side of the street facing his temporary home. Then he saw Newman, smoking a cigarette, striding up and down with obvious impatience. Second surprise. As he parked, Newman opened the passenger seat door and sat beside him.

  `Don't turn off the engine,' Newman snapped. `If you say so,' Marler replied calmly.

  `Have you got a lead to where they're holding Paula?' Newman demanded.

  Butler had left his own car, was leaning outside the open window, listening.

  `Not yet,' Marler admitted reluctantly. 'But we have some sort of a lead as to where that cab driver dropped Dr Hyde,' he added quickly.

  Newman's manner and expression was bleak. He seemed on the verge of explosion point.

  `Far from here? Tell me quickly.'

  Tersely, Marler recalled the information Butler had extracted from Johnny Clausen. He also explained how he knew the area from his drive beyond Hoger the previous night. Butler produced his map, showed Newman the cross marking the point where Clausen had dropped Hyde.

  `Leave your car here,' Newman ordered Marler. 'We'll drive there in my BMW.' He looked at Butler. 'You keep up with us in your Volvo. Come on! Every minute could count.' He paused, half-way out of the car. 'Are you both armed?'

  `I am,' Butler said. 'Walther.' He patted his hip.

  `And that hold-all on the floor in the back contains my Armalite,' Marler informed him.

  `Bring it with you. And better switch off your engine…'

  Marler sat beside Newman as they accelerated once outside Tonder. Newman gestured with his head towards the windscreen, which was smeared with gritty sand.

  `Tonder is a gem. Coming down the coast road through the South Jutland area is pure hell. God, what a wasteland! Like Macbeth's blasted heath. Miserable scrubland. Nothing but sand and weedy tufts of grass. Then the wind blows up the blasted sand all the time. It's a nightmare.'

  `I have found Dr Wand's colony of twenty-eight new bungalows, all furnished and waiting for occupation. In a remote spot close to the sea, hidden behind sand dunes. And it is in the area marked on one of those maps brought back from Lop Nor by Cardon. Where is Cardon? And Tweed?' Marler asked.

  `Cardon is doing his own thing. Tweed stopped off at some closely guarded military encampment south of Esbjerg. He thinks Stealth is due tonight. But Paula is our priority.'

  `Agreed.'

  Marler kept quiet for a while, sensing Newman's mood of fury and frustration. It was Newman who broke the silence when they were north of Hoger, approaching the intersection where Marler had turned west heading straight for the sea.

  `You must have driven around a lot – searching. Sure that you haven't seen a likely place where they might be holding Paula? Something odd that caught your attention?'

  Marler snapped his fingers. Newman's phrasing had triggered off a recollection. He was still guiding him.

  `Slow down, we're coming to a side road off to the left. Not much of a road, but take it…'

  'Why?'

  `Stop asking bloody fool questions. Slow down. We turn off here to the left,' Marler snapped.

  Newman swung the wheel and they drove more slowly down a strip of road. Marler spoke as he leaned forward to see more clearly while the wipers whipped madly to clear the sand.

  `A remote house. Sizeable, but derelict, I thought. The light was just about as it is now. Fading. Driving past the front twenty yards or so away – across sand off the road – I saw a light in a semi-basement window. When it vanished, I thought I'd imagined it. Now I don't think I did. There it is. Get ready to turn off the road, drive over the sand when I say so. And don't ask why!'

  `A green Renault? That was the car parked by the road where that cab driver dropped Hyde?'

  `A green Renault, yes.'

  `There's some sort of shed at the back which could serve as a garage…'

  `Turn on to the sand. Now!'

  ***

  After waking Paula, Hyde walked away to the operating table, picked up a hypodermic out of an enamel tray where his instruments were neatly laid out. He took his time. Never rush things.

  Behind him Paula slid her hands out from under the straps. She had struggled for hours to achieve freedom of movement. Once her hands had been freed, she had loosened the straps round her ankles. Left alone, she had exercised her aching legs, bending her knees time and again, flexing her wrists, gripping the fingers of one hand with the other.

  Would her legs hold her up? Hyde had his enamel tray at the far end of the long table. She whipped her legs on to the wooden floor. It was a one-to-one duel – but only before Ilena, the ox-like horror, returned.

  She felt unsteady but forced herself to move to her end of the table. At that moment Dr Hyde turned round, hypodermic grasped in his right hand, saw her. His eyes widened with surprise, then with manic fury. lie moved towards her and she waited. When he was close she made her legs run down the far side of the table – so they had a barrier between them.

  Her right hand grasped a scalpel as he came after her. A moment later he was close. Her other hand picked up a small glass containing a blue liquid. She threw whatever the contents were into his face. He stopped, blinked, put his left hand up to his glasses. Still unsteady, Paula lurched forward. Remembering something else Butler had taught her on the training course, she aimed the scalpel for a point between his ribs. Hit the ribs and it would glance off. She put all her strength behind the thrust, felt the scalpel sink in through the cloth of his coat and well beyond. Like a knife going into butter, she thought viciously. No mercy for this bastard. She rammed the scalpel in deep, let go, stood back.

  Expressions flitted across Hyde's face as he stood stock-still. Surprise, amazement, fear. The hand holding the hypodermic flopped gently on the table, releasing the hypodermic with its deadly needle point. A patch of red welled up over his white coat where the scalpel ha
d penetrated. He took two steps towards the foot of the staircase, then slumped face-down to the floor.

  He wriggled, rolled over on to his back, his legs flapping on the floor, then there was less motion and he let out a deep groan of pain.

  Paula, more hard-faced than anyone had ever seen her, picked up the hypodermic. Ilena would be back soon with her bowl of boiling water. Paula was not confident she could successfully eliminate the stocky nurse. And as soon as she entered the basement she'd see Hyde lying on the floor.

  Paula, her strength growing with every movement, climbed the stairs and stood on the platform. She held the hypodermic ready and prayed. That was when she heard the key being inserted in the lock, but it was not turned. In the hall someone was hammering on the outer door.

  After pressing the bell and hearing nothing inside, Newman used his fist to hammer on the heavy front door of the house. They had found a green Renault inside the makeshift garage at the back. This was the place. He heard sounds of bolts being withdrawn, a clumsy key being turned. He had a smile on his face as the door swung slowly inwards.

  A squat, slab-faced woman with very short hair, wearing a white coat, faced him. She held a long-barrelled Mauser in her hand, aimed at his stomach. He frowned, raised his hands.

  `No need for that. I've lost my way.'

  He backed away slowly, step by step. She followed him.

  `How you get there?'

  The barrel of the gun emerged beyond the doorway, then the thick hand holding it. Pressed against the side of the house, Marler brought down the barrel of his Armalite with savage force on her wrist. She dropped the gun and grunted like a wild boar. As she retreated back into the house her other hand produced a wicked wide-bladed knife, doubled-edged. She held it in front of her as she continued back and Newman followed.

  `Where is the girl?' Newman snapped.

  `Girl die if you come in…'

  Newman continued to advance, followed by Marler and Butler. She reached the door to the basement. Despite Marler's ferocious blow, her right hand turned the key and she backed on to the platform inside the basement area.

  She saw Paula and started to swing her huge knife round. Two things happened at the same moment. Paula plunged the hypodermic into her thick wrist, depressed the plunger. Newman's right leg shot up and kicked her in the stomach. It was like kicking a tree trunk but Ilena was rammed back against the rail. The wood refused to take the strain. With the hypodermic still in her wrist, her eyes rolling, she fell backwards ten feet to the wood floor. Her obese body lay still, her head oddly twisted to one side.

  `Oh, thank God!'

  Paula threw herself into Newman's arms. He hugged, kissed her as she clung to him, then straightened up. She spoke as Butler, Walther in hand, began to search the rest of the house upstairs. Marler checked the ground floor.

  `Lord, I need a wash,' Paula said.

  `Try the kitchen at the back,' advised Marler, who heard her as he returned from his swift scrutiny. 'There's a sink with taps.'

  When she had gone Newman and Marler went down the steps into the basement. Newman checked Ilena's pulse. Nothing. He looked up at Marler.

  `Dead as a doornail. Her neck's broken.'

  `This thing's alive,' Marler reported, pointing to Hyde. `What do you think?'

  `If he faces a trial, he'll get X number of years. Then some shrink will testify he's normal and they'll release him. I'm not in favour.'

  `Join the club.'

  Using his knuckles to avoid leaving fingerprints, Marler heaved over the table. Hyde screamed as it landed on his knees, pinning him down. His precious scalpels scattered all round him.

  `He'll bleed to death before he's found,' Newman commented.

  `Which is the object of the exercise,' Marler replied.

  Paula freshened herself up under the tap of cold water. Butler had found her shoulder-bag thrown on a couch in a front room. To her surprise the contents were intact – including her. 32 Browning.

  `No one and nothing else in the house,' Butler remarked. 'Except an oil lamp burning in the front room.'

  Newman disappeared inside the front room. He closed the door, knocked the oil lamp on to the wooden floor, went back into the hall, again shutting the door.

  Paula had walked out into the fresh sea air, took in deep gulps. Then she stiffened. The wind had dropped suddenly. As night fell the air was still. No more sandstorms. Only an uncanny silence. She had stiffened because of what she saw creeping in from the sea. A dense mist. Growing denser every minute.

  48

  `It really was a trifle disconcerting,' Dr Wand remarked to Starmberg as the Luxemburger drove him away from Esbjerg Airport. 'We were held in a holding pattern while some stupid light aircraft was permitted to land. I gather it was lost and they wanted to get it on the ground before we landed.'

  The two men were inside a limousine with tinted glass windows. Wand had no idea that Inspector Nielsen had phoned the Esbjerg traffic controller.

  `When a Piper Aircraft, call sign Kalundborg, comes within your orbit, could you please give it top priority over all other planes?' he had requested.

  `Request granted,' the traffic controller had agreed.

  Earlier, at Kastrup Airport, Nielsen had arranged for the take-off of the Lear jet to be delayed. He had guessed Tweed would want to arrive first. Nielsen was staying in his office all night if necessary – at least until he had heard from Tweed.

  Starmberg wore his chauffeur's uniform and dark glasses as he bypassed Esbjerg and drove south on Route 11. He was heading for South Jutland by the direct route. Wand, completely relaxed, glanced at the Luxemburger.

  `There will be two Stealth vessels coming in tonight – a powerful missile-armed vessel leading the way, with Yenan, the smaller ship, following it. All the top operatives are aboard the Yenan…'

  `Why is that?' enquired Starmberg.

  Wand sighed. 'Again I am asked questions, which you know I dislike

  …'

  `My humble apologies…'

  `Just keep quiet and your question will be answered. The lead vessel, the Mao III, has as its main task the protection of the Yenan. There are also operatives aboard Mao III, but they are far less important. I am happy to say that as soon as the Yenan team has landed and occupied the bungalows waiting for them, my whole European apparatus will be established in place.'

  `Most satisfactory. You have planned this so well,' Starmberg replied with grovelling enthusiasm. Wand preferred top subordinates who looked up to him. 'Everything is now ready in Jutland for their reception.'

  `Kindly assure me that the escorts are in position.'

  `Twenty armed men will now have hidden themselves behind the dunes.'

  `And the dinghies, I trust, have been placed in a strategic situation? The Mao and the Yenan will have to stand offshore while the operatives are landed on the beach.'

  `The dinghies are also concealed behind the dunes. Trucks delivered them an hour ago.'

  There was silence for some time as Starmberg drove steadily south. Wand appeared to have sunk into one of his trances. They had reached the wilderness in South Jutland now. Wind blew a veritable storm of powdered sand over the windscreen. Starmberg had turned on the wipers at top speed but still a film of sand coated the screen.

  `You have checked the met forecast, I trust?' Wand asked suddenly.

  `Wind due to die at dusk. Then dense fog along this coast.'

  `It is dusk now…'

  Wand had just made the remark when the wind dropped, went away. A few minutes later, glancing to the west, Wand saw in the fading light a turgid grey mist creeping in from the sea. His mouth twisted into a smile of pleasure.

  `You haven't asked me about our good friend, Tweed.' `You don't like me to ask questions,' Starmberg reminded him respectfully.

  `Good. Very good indeed. You might like to know Tweed is due to receive a memento of his cherished Miss Grey. Namely her severed arm. That will break him finally.'

  `A pleasure fo
r him, I'm sure,' Starmberg replied with relish. 'We have nearly reached the bungalows. Inside the one which will be your headquarters a powerful transmitter has been installed.'

  `I would hope so. That is my means of communication with the Mao

  …'

  Both men were so absorbed in what lay ahead of them they had never even glanced behind them. Even if they had, it was doubtful if they'd have seen the scruffy Ford Sierra which had followed them all the way from the airport. Behind the wheel Philip Cardon slowed down, driving with great skill with only his sidelights on.

  While the Piper Archer was in mid-air, and soon after its take off from Kastrup, Tweed had – at Cardon's suggestion – asked the pilot to transmit a message to Nielsen over his radio.

  The pilot had immediately picked up his microphone and had spoken to Nielsen on the prearranged frequency. He had asked for an anonymous car – equipped with a powerful transmitter – to be obtained in Esbjerg and kept waiting for their arrival. As usual, Inspector Nielsen had delivered.

  On landing at Esbjerg the security chief had led the three passengers to two vehicles parked in a secluded area. One was a much-used Ford Sierra disfigured with smears of mud.

  `This is the one with the transmitter,' the security chief had informed them. 'Tuned to the correct waveband – and this bit of paper gives you the call sign to reach someone called Anton Norlin.'

  `That's mine,' Cardon had said.

  He had waited at the airport until Wand's Lear jet had landed. Nielsen had radioed the Piper Archer en route, telling Tweed about the strategem he'd used to delay the Lear jet. Cardon had been behind the wheel of the worn- looking Ford Sierra when Wand had appeared, had climbed into the front passenger seat while the uniformed chauffeur held the door open for him. He had watched cynically as the heavily built man with the ponderous walk had disappeared inside the limousine.