V for Vengeance

by Dennis Wheatley

  The Russian cursed softly, but Gregory whispered: ‘Don’t grumble! you’ve done damn’ well so far. I thought my number was up just before you killed that Leutnant. Even one on the battle bowler will be enough to make that fellow keep his head in for a bit and gives us more time to get away.’

  As he was speaking they had resumed their backward progress, and soon afterwards they were sufficiently far out of the line of the door to get to their feet and run for it. Instinctively they headed seaward, and a few minutes later pulled up, stumbling and panting, among the tangle of big boulders which fringed the sandy beach.

  Immediately after landing them the launch had turned and headed straight out to sea on its way back to England. It had taken them a good quarter of an hour to find the ruined castle and another five or six minutes had elapsed since. In that time the powerful engines of the launch would have carried it seven or eight miles upon its homeward journey, and it must have already been too far out when the shooting started for Lieutenant Cummings and his men to have heard the sound of the shots; so both the fugitives realised that there was no hope at all of escape that way.

  ‘We’ll have to swim for it,’ muttered Gregory. ‘That’s our only chance, but the mainland can’t be much more than a mile distant.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Kuporovitch grunted. ‘Go ahead, my friend, and good luck to you. Unfortunately, I can’t swim, but I’ll cover your retreat and kill a few more of these lice before they get me.’

  ‘If you can’t swim we’re staying here,’ said Gregory firmly. ‘I’m not going to leave you to be butchered.’

  ‘No, no!’ the Russian protested. ‘What is the sense of our both being killed or captured? Besides, it’s much more important that you should get away than myself. It is you that Lacroix wishes to see in Paris, not me, and great things may hang upon your meeting.’

  ‘Maybe they do,’ Gregory’s voice was surly. ‘All the same, I’m not going without you. But listen! I’m a pretty strong swimmer. If you lie flat on your back and keep dead still I reckon I could get you across. How about it?’

  Kuporovitch shook his head. ‘No, my friend. If the channel were only a few hundred feet that might be possible, but it is a mile or more. I weigh sixteen stone, and we should be as hopeless as new-born children if we landed naked on the other side, so there is also the weight of our clothes, weapons and ammunition. You could not possibly tow such a weight all that distance.’

  Gregory knew that his friend was right. The effect would be too much for him and one or both of them would drown half-way across.

  ‘All right, then,’ he said, ‘We’ll stay here. If you remember, Lacroix told you that the sea runs right out, and that people can walk dryshod from this island to the mainland when the water’s low. With luck we may be able to hide among the rocks until the tide goes out.’

  True. So there’s still a good chance that I shall be able to evade capture. That’s all the more reason you should make certain of your escape by swimming the channel now. Gregory, I beg of you to do so. Somehow or other I will manage to join you later on.’

  That’s no good. We should never find each other. But as it was high tide at eleven-thirty the tide will be full out by half past five. It will still be dark, as dawn is not till six-thirty, and the moon’s already well down on the horizon. We’ll stick it out together, Stefan, and slip away as soon as the water’s fallen far enough for us to wade across. We should be able to make a start round about half past four.’

  ‘All right, then, if you insist; but for the next four hours it looks as though we shall have a pretty game of hide-and-seek between these rocks.’

  Gregory laughed softly, but there was little humour in the sound.

  ‘Hide-and-seek with death, eh? How’re you off for ammunition?’

  ‘So far I’ve only used one clip and I started out with a hundred rounds.’

  ‘Let me know if you run low, and I’ll pass you over my shells. My big gun was knocked out of my hand when I fell; so I’ve only got the little fellow that I carry strapped under my armpit. Still, it’s pretty deadly at short range.’

  As they whispered together they kept their ears and eyes alert for signs of the enemy. Now that they were back again on the seaward side of the old ruin they could no longer see the light coming from its doorway; but evidently the Germans had plucked up the courage to leave the building, as they could be heard calling to one another in the distance.

  Suddenly a bright finger of light pierced the darkness a quarter of a mile away, then another flashed out, and the two swept backwards and forwards over a wide arc, meeting in its centre. The Germans were using portable searchlights to try to locate their attackers.

  For a good half-hour Gregory and Stefan crouched among the tangle of rocks, while the Germans moved up and down the south and east coasts of the island, which were nearest to the land.

  Now and again the long beams travelled swiftly over the gently heaving water, and Gregory had cause to thank his stars that his decision to remain with his friend had caused him to abandon any idea of swimming to the mainland; the searchlights would almost certainly have picked him up and, without the least chance of retaliation, he would have proved an easy target for the enemy.

  Gradually the searchlights grew nearer and began to flicker over the boulders towards the northern end of the island. Evidently the Germans were satisfied that they would have spotted the fugitives had they taken to the water and felt certain that they must still be hiding somewhere on the island.

  The golden rays flickered on the big piles of stone, throwing them up with glowing brightness, but here and there patches of shadow still remained, made blacker by the contrast. Even in the glare of the lights there would have remained a score of safe hiding-places in each square hundred yards of rocks but for the fact that the Germans were using their searchlights with considerable skill. Every few moments the lights were switched off, the men who were carrying them moved several hundred feet, then switched them on again from a new position; in consequence, the two friends never knew from which direction the beams would suddenly flash out next.

  With growing anxiety they decided to move round to the west side of the island, and crawling forward cautiously on hands and knees they covered about a quarter of a mile, while the searchlights slowly probed the black patches between the boulders at their rear, and the methodical Germans called encouragement to one another.

  The game of hide-and-seek had been on for over an hour when, to their perturbation, Gregory and Kuporovitch found that half-way along the west beach the rocks abruptly ceased, giving place to an open stretch of bare shelving sand. They wriggled forward for some way across it, hoping to find another cluster of great boulders; but having covered about a hundred yards they could see no indication of rocks ahead and began to fear that they would be caught out there in the open. Halting, they held a whispered consultation, decided that it was less risky to return, and swiftly snaked their way back to their former cover.

  Another twenty minutes passed, then the unhurried but devilishly systematic search-party began to approach the edge of the rocky belt in which the fugitives were now concealed. After that, they knelt in a little gully, their guns in their hands, and so tense with suspense that they hardly dared to breathe.

  Both of them felt there was still a good chance that they might continue to escape observation and that the Germans would turn back when they reached the open sand to try the rocks on the south and east of the island again, or perhaps give up altogether in the belief that their attackers must, after all, have managed to swim away before it had been possible to get the searchlights going. Yet the strain was grim. At any moment now one of those ever-seeking fingers of light might catch and hold them; then, within an instant, they would be fighting for their lives.

  The Germans were still calling to each other, and from their shout Gregory gathered that several of the men were browned-off. They were grumbling that further search was now useless, and they wanted to
turn in to get some sleep, but a harsh-voiced Unter-offizier, who was evidently in charge, kept cursing them and spurring them on to continue their efforts. He damned them for fools and bitterly reminded them that if they failed to account for the two spies everybody concerned would get hell pasted out of them by the High Command at Dinan when he reported the affair, which could not possibly be concealed, owing to the casualties they had already sustained.

  Suddenly one of the beams flashed out only some twenty feet from where Gregory and Kuporovitch were lying flat on their faces between two great slabs of stone. The light was held high and it swept lengthways right through the tiny canyon. In an attempt to evade it they scuffled swiftly forward round the corner of a rock, but a loud shout from the man who was directing the searchlight told them that they had been discovered. Instantly the other light was also directed on the area in which they were lurking, and the Germans, who from their shouting appeared to be ten or twelve in number, rapidly closed in; but the game was not yet played out.

  In their new position the fugitives were again in a black gulf of shadow, and now they both came to their feet, guns in hand, to peer over the rocky ledge. Kuporovitch’s big pistol cracked. There was a yelp from the man who held the nearest light, and it disappeared as he stumbled and fell.

  The second that Kuporovitch fired the Germans began shooting from all directions at the flash of his pistol, but he and Gregory had ducked down again, and the bullets spattered harmlessly among the rocks.

  ‘Well done!’ Gregory exclaimed. ‘If only we can shoot out both their lights we’ll get out of this fix yet.’

  But unfortunately, although Kuporovitch had aimed for the light, he had only hit the man; so it was not smashed but had fallen on the ground, from which it was swiftly retrieved by one of the fellow’s comrades, who began waving it wildly back and forth across the rocks behind which the fugitives crouched.

  As the firing subsided Gregory poked up his head again and sent three bullets cracking in the direction of the second searchlight, but the pistol he was now using was too small for accurate range at such a distance. The only effect of his shots was to bring another burst of fire from tommy-guns and pistols.

  Next moment he caught a slithering noise upon the stones behind him. Swivelling round he was just in time to see a dark form scrambling over the nearest boulder. His little gun spat again. The German gave a whimpering moan and collapsed almost at his feet.

  Knowing that a wounded German can be very nearly as dangerous as an unwounded one, Gregory leapt upon the man. Grabbing him with the left hand round the throat he clubbed his little pistol in his right and brought it down with all his force on the fellow’s skull.

  It was just as well, as the man was still grasping an automatic rifle, and had he been left there at such close range he would certainly have succeeded in putting a dozen bullets into their backs. Dragging the rifle from the man’s now limp hands, Gregory cautiously stood up and let fly with it at the searchlight nearest to him. It suddenly went out, and a scream of pain told him that he had also got its bearer.

  Bullets were now spattering all round him, but disregarding them for a moment he swivelled the rifle towards the other light. He was just too late. A shouted order from the N.C.O. came even as he turned, and the light was switched off before he could draw a bead on it.

  The firing petered out. For the next few moments there was a sinister silence. Gregory and Kuporovitch crouched back and back, straining their eyes into the darkness, and expecting at any instant that they would have to face a mass attack from the whole force of their enemies. It did not mature. Twice they thought they saw moving shadows and fired their pistols, but with no result. Then there came a sharp whizzing noise in the air, and something fell with a clang and a faint plop within a few feet of them. Both of them caught their breath. They felt certain that the Germans, having come to the conclusion that to take them alive would prove too costly, had now decided to blow them to bits with hand-grenades.

  The moon had set and the banks of heavy cloud had rolled away. Overhead the stars were shining in an almost clear sky, but in the crevices between the great tangle of stones it was impossible even to see a white hand stretched out before one’s face, much less to locate the small bomb that had fallen in their immediate neighbourhood. Throwing themselves flat on their faces again, they could only pray that it was not actually in the gully which they occupied, and that when it exploded the great boulders on either side of them would protect them from its jagged fragments.

  In fearful suspense they waited there, each instinctively counting the seconds as they dragged by; but no explosion came. Instead, another missile hurtled over and bounced from rock to rock before coming to rest in their vicinity. A third and a fourth landed near by. A full minute had passed, yet the first had still not exploded. Perhaps it was a dud, but even if it were the second should have gone off with a blinding flash and deafening roar before this. Kuporovitch could feel a small pulse throbbing swiftly in his forehead and Gregory held his breath until his lungs were almost bursting.

  At the same moment they suddenly became conscious of the same thing. Their eyes were beginning to water and smart. Both being old soldiers, the truth flashed upon them. The missiles that had clattered upon the rocks were not hand-grenades filled with high-explosive, but small canisters containing tear-gas.

  Within another few seconds their eyes were irritating so much that it needed an intense effort of control not to rub them. As lachrymatory gas is much heavier than air, and they had been lying at full length, they had already caught the worst effects of it. With rage in their hearts they knew now that nothing but immediate treatment could save them from temporary blindness. The filthy stuff was prickling on their shaven skins. Although they shut their mouths they had to breathe, and as they stumbled to their knees they drew in great breaths of it through their nostrils, which caused them to sneeze and cough violently.

  They were weeping now as copiously as bitterly wronged children. Tears streamed down their faces, and, try as they would, they simply could not keep their eyes open to see what was happening round them. Even when the remaining searchlight flashed out again they were only conscious of it as a blur of light pouring down upon them. A moment later they caught the sound of heavy metal-shot boots clinking upon the smaller stones. Both of them began to fire wildly, but strong hands grabbed them from behind, and they were forcibly disarmed.

  As they were seized by the cursing but triumphant Nazis they could only wonder if they would be handed over to the Gestapo, or if their captors meant to butcher them at once as a reprisal for the Germans that they had killed that night.

  9

  Hitler Youth at Play

  The doubts of Gregory and Stefan as to the treatment they were likely to receive from their captors were soon resolved; within five minutes both of them had made up their minds that they would never live to see another dawn.

  They were still blinded by the tear-gas, which rendered them incapable of even dodging the blows aimed at them, and the men who had caught them were in a most evil mood. Nearly half their original number had been either killed or injured, and they were obviously determined to take full vengeance on the two spies who had led them such a bloody dance.

  The two were cuffed, kicked and beaten by the cursing Germans, who now set upon them from all sides, and they would certainly have had their brains battered out on the rocks there and then had not the N.C.O. exercised all his authority to restrain his men; not with any thought of mercy, but, as he kept bawling to them, because the night was still young and they’d be fools to deprive themselves in a few minutes of the material for hours of good sport. Gradually, the violent manhandling to which the prisoners had at first been subjected lessened, as the N.C.O. succeeded in restoring some sort of order. In a rasping voice he then decreed that they should be frog-marched up to the castle.

  How they survived the ordeal neither of them afterwards knew. With their arms straining in their sockets from
the weight of their bodies, so that it seemed they must be dragged out, they were bumped and hauled, first across the smooth sand, then over the rough higher ground up to the centre of the island. They could not protect their faces, which were constantly scraped and cut against stones or lumps of earth and by the coarse grass. That hideous progress seemed unending, and, stout-hearted as they were, both of them were screaming for mercy before it was over.

  At last they were thrown, bruised, battered and bleeding, on the wooden floor of the big room that Henri Denoual had patched up into a home for himself. For a time they lay there groaning, too far gone now to respond to fresh kicks from the jeering Germans grouped round them. Even these sweet-natured and highly cultured products of the Hitler Youth Organisation found that they could get no more fun out of their victims for the moment, so turned away to tend their own hurts and cleanse their weapons.

  The effects of the tear-gas were now wearing off, and through a mist of pain Gregory found that with his left eye, which was close to the floor, he could see a little. The other was swollen and fast shut from a savage blow he had received upon it. He dared not move from fear that at the least sign of consciousness these paladins of the New Order would set on him again with their hobnailed boots. All he could see as he lay there was one of Stefan’s legs, and beyond it the booted feet of two soldiers who were sitting on a long stool.

  He had no idea how long he lay like that, but suddenly he let out a gasp of shock and began to splutter violently from someone having pitched a bucketful of cold water right over his aching head. A roar of laughter greeted his wriggles, as he weakly shook the water from his hair and endeavoured to sit up. Next second there was another splash and a loud shout, as Kuporovitch received the second bucketful in his face.

  ‘On your feet, damn you!’ yelled the Unter-offizier. With an effort Gregory twisted round his head and, while attempting to rise, got his first sight of their principal tormentor.