by Peter Watt
‘Here,’ he grunted and Matthew guessed that he, too, was to disguise himself as a desert Bedouin.
Ben walked over and handed Matthew a revolver. ‘You might need this,’ he said. ‘As you have probably guessed by now, when we make our raid we will be speaking Arabic and acting as bandits. Any Arab workers who see us will tell others that we were unknown Bedouin on a raid. I am going to make the executions appear to be the result of a robbery. We will need to get Miss Hatfield out first so that she does not get caught in any cross fire.’
Matthew liked the simplicity of the plan; the less complicated, the less likely something was to go wrong. He and Ben walked up to a crest with a view over the archaeological site. He lay on his stomach, scanning the camp through binoculars Ben handed him. He could see the Junkers sitting on the airstrip.
Ben lay down beside him, while the rest of the party, now armed with rifles, sat in the hollow smoking cigarettes and playing cards.
As Matthew swung the binoculars across the campsite he picked up the figures of Erika and Kramer sitting at a table outside a tent. Matthew passed the binoculars back to Ben.
‘The woman you can see sitting at the table is to be spared. She would be able to verify to her people that they were attacked by Arab bandits.’
‘That is reasonable,’ Ben nodded. ‘I do not see Miss Hatfield.’
Matthew frowned. He hadn’t seen Diane either. Maybe she is inside her tent, he thought doubtfully. Once Ben was satisfied that he had identified the two targets he told Matthew that he would give his final briefing just after sunset and at 1 am they would strike with the speed of a desert scorpion.
‘It is time for us to eat now,’ Ben said, rolling away from the crest. ‘I have a meal of bread, dates and cheese for us all.’
Matthew was reluctant to leave his spot on the hill as he had not yet seen Diane in the camp. Already his sense of dread was growing. Had the Germans already disposed of her?
*
Diane’s feeling of unease was growing by the minute. They were within sight of the village now and nothing had gone awry, so she could not explain her intense discomfort.
She turned a corner and braked suddenly as three men dressed in European style stepped into the middle of the road, gesturing for her to stop. Every instinct told her that she was in an ambush, and her intuition was confirmed when the men produced pistols. Diane had survived many dangerous flights by making split-second decisions and her instincts screamed out that the man sitting beside her was part of the trap. With all the strength she had she turned to shove at the Arab, whom she could see from the corner of her eye had reached for the knife tucked in his belt.
Her attack had been so unexpected that Mohammad fell against the rickety side door and fell to the ground.
With a grinding of gears she went on the offensive and drove directly at the men spread across the road. They flung themselves out of her path, firing wild shots at the truck. Diane picked up speed. When she glanced over her shoulder she could see the men, Mohammad included, running along the road to catch up with the truck. She gathered pace and slowly drew away until the ambushers were out of sight. Her mind was working frantically. Why were the men attempting to pass as Jews? Clearly they intended her harm; she suspected they had intended to murder her, and by all appearances she would seem to have been murdered by Jewish men. Diane knew that if she attempted to turn back she would be driving towards her ambushers. She was deep in enemy territory; for all she knew the men who had attempted to stop her were from the village directly ahead. It was a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire with only one dangerous option left.
24
Diane sat behind the steering wheel, the lorry parked by the side of the road. Ahead of her was the village and behind her the men she was sure were tasked to kill her.
‘Right, girl,’ she said. ‘Time to figure a way out of this mess.’
No doubt the ambush had been planned by Albrecht; her cover was obviously blown. She had not seen Matthew since Basra and now despaired that she would ever see him again.
Diane rummaged around in the cabin of the truck and found a water bottle and a tin toolbox. Inside was a large screwdriver, which she appropriated as a weapon, and a flashlight. It was time to leave the truck, it was too easy a target and Diane guessed that the ambushers might have even blocked the road. She would make her way into the arid hills overlooking the dirt track. She would need every navigation skill she possessed in order to work her way back to the campsite and her plane. She did not know how she would avoid the Germans but she decided to worry about that when the time came.
Taking her meagre supplies she exited the truck and set a course directly north into the hills. She was half a mile away from the truck when she heard the shouts of angry men drifting on the wind. She hoped they would not be able to track her footsteps. For the next five hours Diane kept a course travelling north, using the sun as her compass guide. When night fell she would change course and travel west in the series of rocky hills and sandy gullies.
It was near sunset when Diane stopped to get her breath. She heard the faint sound of male voices; she recognised one of them and her blood ran cold. It was Mohammad. Through luck or intention, he had taken the same path as Diane. To head for the high ground was a logical choice, she thought bitterly. Maybe she should have gone south, but that would have exposed her to anyone on the road above the valley. All she could do now was pray for the sun to set and use the night as a cloak to keep her hidden. She guessed that the men were used to harsh conditions and could easily overtake a woman who spent a lot of time seated in the cockpit of an aircraft.
The wind brought the voices closer. They were closing the gap and Diane began to shiver. She gazed to the west and could see the red ball slowly descending towards the ridge of low hills. Now it was time to change course and hope that the men chasing her would continue north. But Diane made a critical mistake and set off on her western course just as the party of killers led by Mohammad appeared on a ridge and saw her alteration. They, too changed course and picked up their pace.
*
The sun was below the horizon and Matthew could feel the chill of the night settling over their surveillance position above the Germans’ campsite.
‘I still have not seen Diane,’ Matthew said when Ben took up position beside him. He put the binoculars down and rubbed his eyes
‘She means a lot to you,’ Ben said. ‘I think I understand why it was important for you to be on this mission.’
‘You were there when Joanne died,’ Matthew answered quietly. ‘I don’t want that ever happening again in my life.’
‘We will find her and she will be safe,’ Ben replied, remembering that terrible day on the top of a hill when he was still little more than a boy with a gun fighting the Ottoman enemies of the British.
‘Your boy James seems to hold promise of a good future,’ Ben continued. ‘I think my cousin Zelda is a little smitten by him.’
‘I have to thank your father for looking after him,’ Matthew said. ‘I am sure Zelda will take his mind off my unexplained absence.’
‘Does James intend to follow in your footsteps?’ Ben asked.
‘I have a feeling James has come to understand why I love flying, and has the potential to become a good pilot,’ Matthew answered, realising just how important his son was to him, and regretting the years they had been apart. But the past could not be altered and only the future planned.
The two men lay side by side as the sun finally disappeared beneath the hills of the Holy Land.
*
Diane could feel every muscle in her body ache with the strain of forcing herself up the hills and down the slopes. She had consumed the water and discarded the bottle; now she gripped the long screwdriver and focused the flashlight on the ground ahead. She thanked God that it was a moonless night as every now and then she could hear the voices behind her shout to each other and each time they were a little closer. She knew now that it w
as impossible to outrun them. Even in the dark they would probably find her and it sounded as though the party had spread out in a line.
For a moment she stopped and stared directly ahead. She thought she could see a darker shadow in the rocks ahead. She crawled forward and found a narrow opening leading to a small space in the rocks. She was afraid of what may be inside but she knew she was physically spent and could not go on tonight. Closing her eyes she cautiously slid inside, praying that the space did not harbour snakes, spiders or scorpions. Nothing bit or stung her, so she settled down on her back to wait out the night. With any luck, her pursuers would overshoot her hiding place and think she’d escaped them.
*
It was just after midnight and Ben, who had taken the watch, shook Matthew awake from his slumber.
‘The lights are out in the tents,’ he said. ‘The workers have a fire going on the western side of the campsite. I counted fourteen workers located about fifty yards from the German tents. Most have retired and only two are sitting by the fire. Both are armed.’
Matthew rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘Which tent did the woman go to?’ he asked, and Ben indicated a smaller tent in the cluster of canvas.
‘Is there any sign of Diane?’ Matthew asked, and Ben shook his head. Matthew tried not to panic but all he could think was that he was he too late; the Germans had killed her already. The rest of the team joined them at the top of the crest and Ben briefed them in Hebrew, which Matthew did not understand.
‘The Georgians are going to take care of the workers by the fire,’ Ben explained. ‘They are both very good with knives. Myself and my young friend will take the two tents where we know Albrecht and Kramer have retired. We will shoot them. If the Arab workers attempt to interfere in our mission the Georgians will take care of them, but I predict they will flee into the night if they think we are Bedouin bandits. We will leave the German woman alive.’
‘I will have to question her on Diane’s whereabouts,’ Matthew said.
‘Then you will have to kill her as she will inform her government and the British authorities that you were involved. We would be wasting our time impersonating our enemy.’
‘I think I can get her promise to remain silent on the matter of seeing me,’ Matthew answered, but even in the dim light he could see the expression of doubt on Ben’s face.
‘We will see,’ the young man said evasively. ‘You will follow me down to the camp and stick close,’ Ben instructed, before giving the signal to the rest of his team to leave.
Matthew, Ben and his young partner moved cautiously, acutely aware of making any sound in their stealthy advance on the camp. They were guided by a lantern light from Erika’s tent, and Matthew thought that she might still be working. Within minutes they had reached the tents of Kramer and Albrecht. When Matthew cast about him he noticed that the two Arab men by the fire were gone and guessed their fate. For big men the two Georgians moved liked cats.
Ben eased open the flap of the first tent and the young man disappeared inside. Ben slid his rifle barrel through the opening of the second tent and stood quietly for a moment, then fired once. He entered the tent and fired again. Next door Matthew heard the half-strangled cry of a man cut off from life by the blade of a knife.
‘Albrecht,’ Ben said, lighting the interior of the tent with a flashlight. Matthew could see the German agent lying on his back. Both bullets had gone through his chest, and he had died without waking.
A woman screamed. Matthew recognised Erika’s voice and hurried across the campsite. He could hear voices calling, ‘God is great!’ in Arabic. He suspected it was the Georgians trying to add to the impression that the raid was being carried out by Bedouin bandits.
Matthew burst into Erika’s tent and saw her sitting up, clutching blankets to her chest. Her eyes were wide with fear that turned to confusion when she saw him. The confusion was soon replaced with a glimmer of hope.
‘Oh, Matthew, what is happening?’ she gasped, throwing herself at him. She was wearing a slip that hardly covered her nakedness and Matthew could feel the warmth of her body as she trembled in his arms.
‘Arab bandits,’ Matthew replied lamely.
‘What are you doing here?’ Erika asked, standing just a little way back from him now. ‘Are you with them?’ she asked, her face suddenly contorted with fear.
‘Where is Diane?’ he asked.
‘What has happened to Dr Albrecht?’ Erika countered, anger creeping into her voice.
‘I promise that if you answer my questions honestly, no harm will come to you,’ Matthew said. Suddenly Erika spun around and grasped an object from under her pillow, turning around to point a pistol at him. He could see fear and anger in her face now.
‘Put the gun down,’ he said. ‘If you kill me, the others out there will kill you.’
‘What is going on?’ Erika demanded. ‘Dr Albrecht,’ she called out.
‘He is dead, Erika,’ Matthew said. ‘I am aware of your true role as agents for the Nazi Party.’
Erika looked about as if seeking an exit.
‘If you answer my questions you will be spared, as long as you give me your word that you never saw me here tonight,’ Matthew said.
‘How can I accept your word?’ she asked bitterly.
‘I wish that we had got to know each other better,’ Matthew lied, hoping to appeal to her emotional side to cement a tentative bond between them. ‘I have to know where I can find Diane.’
‘She is dead,’ Erika spat. ‘Albrecht sent her to an Arab village east of here. As she has not returned, I can only presume that the man we sent with her has successfully completed his task and killed her. We knew who she was working for.’
‘Where did you send her?’ Matthew asked, feeling sick to his stomach with despair.
Erika provided Matthew with the name of the village, which he remembered from the map. Suddenly the room seemed to explode and Matthew saw Erika’s head jerk back as she crumpled to the floor. The acrid smell of cordite filled the tent and Ben stepped through the entrance, reloading his rifle. Blood flowed from Erika’s head and was soaked up by the sand floor. Stunned, Matthew did not react.
‘She could have killed you,’ Ben said in a flat voice. ‘I had no other choice. Our mission is complete and we need to get out of here. The workers have disappeared into the desert, but by sunrise the place will be crawling with British army and police.’
‘She . . .’ Matthew tried to find the words to describe his sadness for the news from Erika about Diane’s fate.
‘We have to get out of here before the sun rises,’ Ben said harshly. ‘She was a Nazi sworn to carry out Hitler’s work. She would not have hesitated to kill you.’
‘Erika told me that Diane was driving to an Arab village east of the site,’ Matthew said, staring at the body of the woman at his feet. ‘We have to go there and find her.’
‘If she has not returned, then I fear we can presume she is dead,’ Ben said a little more gently. ‘I would be putting my team in unnecessary danger if we were to travel to the village.’
Matthew turned to face Ben. ‘Then I will go alone,’ he said.
‘That will not be necessary,’ Ben sighed. ‘We will go back to our car and drive to the village,’ he said. ‘It is just fortunate that my men can pass as Arabs. But we cannot remain in this territory for very long before the enemy work out who we really are.’
‘Thank you,’ Matthew said.
They made their way back to the hidden car, where the young man and the two Georgians were waiting. Already they had changed back into European clothing and discarded the Arab dress. Matthew and Saul slipped out of the dress of the Bedouins. Ben briefed them on their new mission and Matthew could see some reluctance on their faces. Still they agreed, and soon the car was bumping along the track east towards the village. Three hours passed and suddenly the headlights picked up a lorry parked off the road. Ben brought the car to a stop.
‘This has to be the truck Diane w
as driving,’ Matthew said to Ben, and they bundled out of the car with their rifles, wary of any Arab militiamen.
‘It appears she is not here,’ Ben said. ‘Where do we go from here?’
Matthew gazed up at the stars. ‘If I were Diane I would have headed north if I’d had to abandon my vehicle for some reason,’ he said.
‘How do you know that she was not killed here and her body dumped close by?’ Ben countered.
‘I don’t,’ Matthew answered. ‘I just know that she is one tough and resourceful lady, and I owe her some measure of hope. At the worst we may find her body when the sun rises, but in the meantime I can set out north in search of her.’
‘It will be like searching for a needle in a haystack,’ Ben said.
‘I don’t expect you to stay here – I know that you are responsible for your men,’ Matthew said, removing the map from inside his jacket and spreading it out on the bonnet of the car. He illuminated it with a hand torch he carried with him for the night mission.
‘You can go back and organise to pick me up at this location,’ Matthew said, indicating a point on the map halfway back to the Germans’ campsite. ‘If I have not found her, then I will return to Jerusalem with you.’
‘According to my calculations,’ Ben said, staring at the map, ‘you should reach that point by midday. We will meet you there but will not remain in the area long as our mission tonight will have stirred up a hornets’ nest.’
‘I understand.’ Matthew folded the map and slipped it inside his jacket.
Ben passed Matthew a rifle with three full magazines. ‘You might need this out there,’ he said.
Matthew accepted the rifle, a Lee Enfield .303 – a weapon he was very familiar with. Ben also scrounged up a bottle of water and some cheese and coarse bread wrapped in a cloth, which Matthew accepted gratefully.
‘Take care, my friend,’ Ben said. ‘My father will kill me if anything happens to you.’
‘We’ve faced worse together in the past,’ Matthew reassured when he shook Ben’s hand. ‘I will be at the RV at midday.’