‘Throttle back,’ I shouted. ‘Ease left on the rudder.’
From the way the plane lurched from side to side, I figured the pilot was struggling to bring her down safely. Loki slid to a halt next to me. ‘She looks nose-heavy to me,’ he said, puffing hard from his exertion. ‘And she’s yawing to starboard. Could do a better job myself.’
It was a Lysander, we decided. Her dragonfly wings were a giveaway. With large floats replacing her under-carriage, it looked as if she’d been modified for takeoff and landings on water. I hoped they’d work OK on the snow and ice, and realized we’d soon find out. The feverish pitch of her engine note dropped to a hum. ‘He’s gliding her in, Finn,’ said Loki. ‘You wait and see. Just before touchdown he’ll rev her up to slow the rate of descent.’
The Lysander descended rapidly, reaching the first pair of flares at an altitude of about one hundred feet. Suddenly her engine roared and her nose lifted. Just before the second pair of flares, she smacked down onto the ice with an almighty crash. She slid towards us, weaving and sliding. And she kept on coming.
‘She can’t stop!’ shouted Freya.
The Lysander swept past us amid a storm of snow whipped up by her propeller blades. The noise was deafening. On she went, finally grinding to a halt about fifty yards further south. Slowly she turned.
Freya hauled Jack to his feet, throwing his left arm over her shoulder. ‘Well, don’t just stand there, Loki!’ she yelled. ‘For God’s sake give me a hand.’
‘Bye, Jack,’ I shouted. ‘Safe journey.’
He nodded to me, his face still scrunched up with pain.
‘Finn, stay with the radio. Loki, you’ll have to carry Jack’s briefcase as well,’ said Freya.
I watched them head off. Part of the cockpit canopy slid open and a head poked out. The man inside waved frantically, gesturing to them to get a move on. God, it was exciting. My delight, however, proved premature, for Jack had been guided barely fifteen yards when the shooting broke out.
It came from the west. I saw distant flashes, then heard the rat-a-tat-tats of short bursts of machine-gun fire. Then I spotted shells ripping into the snow, sending up their telltale puffs. It all happened so fast. I dropped onto my back and wriggled free of the S-phone’s straps. Sliding the device in front of me, I hid behind it and tried to figure out exactly what was going on.
Loki broke free from Jack, thrust the briefcase into Freya’s left hand and hurried back, throwing himself down beside me. He snatched up his rifle, rolled over and pressed the butt into his shoulder. ‘Freya told us to give them covering fire,’ he yelled. ‘Where are they, Finn?’
‘There.’ I pointed beyond the plane, towards the far side of the valley, into the darkness. We couldn’t see anything in the moonlight but it was the direction from which the flashes of gunfire had come. I picked up my rifle, fired, and quickly set about reloading it. I was all fingers and thumbs, dropping more bullets than I could count.
‘Skiers, I think. See them, Finn?’ whispered Loki.
I rolled up beside him and peered into the night. ‘How many are there?’ I asked. I could vaguely make out shapes as they got nearer.
‘God knows, Finn.’
Freya shouldered Jack towards the plane. I could see they were struggling. I wanted to leap up and run to help. But all the while bullets pinged and zipped around us. ‘Run,’ I shouted. But they moved painfully slowly. I took aim again. ‘Shoot, Loki,’ I said bluntly. ‘Quickly, before it’s too late.’
Lying still, we steadied our rifles and squeezed the triggers. I saw the flash from my barrel, and the sharp recoil jarred me.
‘I think I hit one, Finn. I think I got one of the blighters,’ said Loki. ‘Did you?’
‘Don’t think so. Hurry up and reload,’ I shouted.
We were outnumbered and outgunned, but several factors were on our side. The German patrol was still a long way off. They were firing while skiing. I figured it would take a lucky shot to actually hit anything. Our rifles, on the other hand, were ten times more accurate than their machine guns. If we kept our nerve, we could pick them off, one by one. I fired again.
‘Did you get one, Finn?’
‘Don’t know. Hard to tell.’
‘Damn it!’
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.
He turned and pulled a face. ‘Rifle’s jammed.’
‘Here, take mine. I’ll try and get to Freya’s. It’s over there by her rucksack. Cover me. And you’d better make each shot count,’ I said. ‘No pressure.’ My nervous grin was soon wiped off my face when a stray bullet smacked into the S-phone. I ducked down low and cursed.
The Lysander’s engine howled as she slid slowly towards us. Jack and Freya were almost there. Just another ten yards. I willed them on. The Germans were closing in fast. I knew the plane’s pilot would not want to hang around. Success or disaster would be decided in a matter of seconds. I saw that a small ladder had been welded to the Lysander’s fuselage. Reaching it, Jack raised his good leg and placed his foot on the bottom rung. Hands from inside the plane reached down and grabbed him. I blew a sigh of relief. Job done, I thought. I was wrong.
I heard a whistle and was suddenly blinded by a flash. A thunderous bang deafened me and I was jolted by the pressure wave of an explosion. Snow and ice rose up high into the air and then rained down on us.
‘They’ve got mortars!’ Loki cried.
I blinked, wiped snow from my face and peered towards the plane. The blast had caught Jack and he’d fallen off the ladder. Freya had been thrown to the ground too. She quickly got up, but looked dazed. Jack hauled himself to his feet as well, but the moment he straightened up, a bullet thumped into his back. He toppled over like an empty tin can struck by a stone. Disaster.
‘Get the hell away from there!’ I screamed. ‘Freya! Come back! Now! Run!’
Loki fired another shot. ‘I don’t like the look of this, Finn. Not sure we can hold them off much longer.’
I yelled again towards the plane, frantically waving Freya back. Loki fired bullet after bullet into the night. There was no let-up to the flashes of machine-gun fire. And the flashes were getting brighter, closer. I saw that Freya looked confused, frozen to the spot. The pilot revved his engine until it screamed and the plane began to snake forward again. ‘For God’s sake, get a move on!’ I shouted at the top of my voice. I doubted she could hear me.
Another mortar struck to our left. Lumps of snow and ice hammered down on us. I lay flat in the snow and shielded the back of my head with my arms. When I dared look up, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The man inside the plane had stepped out onto the top rung of the ladder, leaned down, and was beckoning towards Freya. At once it dawned on me. He wanted her to climb aboard. She looked in our direction, and then towards the approaching Germans. ‘Loki! Finn!’ she cried. She waved to us, as if she wanted us to get to the plane.
I rose to my knees. ‘Can we make it, Loki?’
‘No, Finn. We’re pinned down. For Christ’s sake keep down. That plane can’t take all of us anyway.’
Freya, crouching beneath the plane’s wing, still had hold of Jack’s briefcase. I saw she was in two minds whether to run back towards us or head for the ladder. There was nothing we could do. We just watched as she made a dash for the man’s outstretched hand.
‘No!’ I yelled. ‘Come back, Freya.’
It was too late. She was climbing up. Another mortar landed behind the plane. The blast knocked me flat onto my back. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and blinked. My ears rang from the thunderous bang and I felt slightly giddy. Freya looked stunned by the blast too. She swayed and began to fall backwards. Jack’s precious leather briefcase slipped from her hand and flopped down onto the snow. As she started to fall, the man grabbed her hand and hauled her into the plane.
Bullets ripped through the Lysander’s tailfin, and zipped and pinged all around us. The pilot had run out of time. There was no way they could retrieve Jack’s briefcase now. The plane’s eng
ine grew into a frenetic, deafening howl. She quickly picked up speed amid a cloud of swirling snow and began sliding towards the northwest. After barely eighty yards she lifted off, climbing steeply into the night.
‘No!’ I yelled. ‘Come back, Freya!’
Loki grabbed my arm. His face had turned as white as the snow. ‘Tell me this isn’t happening, Finn. Please. Tell me.’
I just shook my head.
The plane grew smaller to the eye, banking as she climbed.
‘Hit the deck,’ Loki whispered. ‘Lie still.’
I dropped flat and held my breath. Three skiers appeared through the gloom. They stopped beside Jack’s body. I heard German voices. Other soldiers fired their machine guns in vain at the disappearing Lysander.
Turning onto my side, I watched the plane embark on a steep right-hand turn, and then she disappeared over a ridge. The soldiers ceased firing.
Loki slammed his palms into the snow. ‘This is a nightmare,’ he whispered.
We watched the soldiers while they examined Jack’s body. Then they slowly headed off back in the direction they’d come from. Although they’d gazed in all directions into the night, they’d not seen us lying in the snow barely twenty yards away. We waited until they were out of sight.
‘Come on, Finn, we’d better get the hell out of here in case Fritz decides to come back. Don’t want them stumbling on top of us. I don’t fancy getting caught.’ Loki gingerly rose to his knees.
I was frozen to the spot, staring into the sky. He shoved me hard in my back. ‘Hurry up, Finn. Get those skis back on. And forget about the S-phone. We’ll have to leave it here. We can’t afford to let it slow us down. We’re going to have to ski for our lives.’
I strapped on my skis. Loki swung my rifle over his shoulder. ‘Ready? Let’s go.’
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Jack’s briefcase. It’s over there. Freya dropped it.’
‘Forget the blasted briefcase.’
‘No, you know it’s important.’
He gazed towards Jack’s body. ‘I can’t see it. Are you sure she dropped it?’
‘Yes!’ I dug my poles into the snow and sped to where I thought it had fallen.
‘You’re nuts, Finn!’ Loki shouted after me.
I reached the spot where Jack lay face down in the snow. I prodded him with a ski pole, just to make sure he really was dead. No reaction. There was a red smudge in the snow beside him. Blood. I reached down and tried to turn him over. He was heavy, but I managed to roll him onto his side. His eyes were open, vacant, staring. I took a sharp breath and quickly let go.
Loki called out, ‘Hurry up, Finn.’
I peered around. I was sure Freya had dropped the briefcase close by. But I couldn’t see it. Had the Germans taken it? Was Jack’s mission for nothing? Had he died for nothing? Maybe it had moved when the plane took off, I thought. I skied in the tracks left by the Lysander. Something caught my eye. It was the handle of the briefcase poking out of the snow. I slid across and grabbed it. We were in luck – it had been dragged some distance by the plane, out of sight of the soldiers. I held it up. ‘Found it!’ I shouted.
I felt a sharp stab in my shoulder. And then I heard the shot. Surprised, I looked at my anorak and saw a growing patch of red. Then the pain struck me, a gnawing, agonizing, weakening ache. ‘Jesus, Loki, I’ve been shot!’
Chapter Sixteen
One for Mr Naerog
‘MY ARM,’ I cried.
There was no time to examine the wound – I just had to hope it wasn’t serious. Loki’s face flashed with concern but he urged me on. ‘Come on. Fritz is coming back. We’ve got to get out of here. Here, give me that briefcase. I’ll carry it.’ He handed me back my ski poles. ‘OK!’
I nodded.
‘Good. Come on.’
Together we skied like we’d never skied before, driving one pole into the ground after the other, thrusting our skis forward as we raced to climb up and out of the valley. My shoulder complained bitterly and the red patch on my anorak slowly grew bigger.
I couldn’t bring myself to look back, though Loki did from time to time. And I didn’t like the way he speeded up after each backward glance, especially as I kept hearing bursts of gunfire. Surely these are our final moments, I thought. A million memories flashed through my head: Mother, Anna, Loki, Freya, everyone. I’d never see them again. It felt odd, like being rubbed out – one moment there, the next gone, for ever. Like Father. Like Jack. Like Mr Naerog. Like Idur Svalbad. And yet! I didn’t feel the slightest bit scared. I’d never felt more alive. I could sense my heart pounding, and I was moving quickly, faster than I’d ever skied uphill before.
Loki stretched out ahead of me, his stride long and rhythmic. My calves burned and my arms throbbed, and I felt sweat streaming down my neck. My breaths became gasps, the icy air scorching my lungs. I tried calling out but Loki moved like a man possessed. All I could do was put my head down and press on, willing myself to keep going, desperately trying to convince myself that just a little further ahead we’d be safe.
The gap between the rocks wasn’t far off now. In the moonlight I could see the entrance to the mountain pass. Once through it, once beyond the cave, it would be downhill to the fjord, and the ruins of Heimar’s house. Banging my poles into the snow, I wondered whether the ambush at the rendezvous had just been bad luck. Had a routine German patrol spotted the plane or our flares? Was that it? An unfortunate coincidence? Or had they known? Had we been betrayed? I thought of Jack and what he’d said about the Penguin and the Telescope. Were there really Germans spying for us? Or was the whole thing a ruse? What if Fritz had decided the best way to destroy the Resistance was by infiltrating it? What a cunning plan that would be. But could it be true? If only Jack had told me more. Maybe the contents of his briefcase would yield more of his secrets.
Loki sped through the narrow gap between the sheer rock faces and slid to a halt. He peered cautiously back down into the valley. ‘Have they given up the chase?’ I panted, leaning heavily on my poles.
‘Afraid not,’ he said. ‘You OK?’ He grasped my arm and took a quick look at my shoulder. ‘Just a graze, Finn. Barely a flesh wound. You’ll live.’
‘Great,’ I wheezed. I didn’t have time to worry either way. ‘Can we make it to our boat in time?’
‘Of course we can. Just remember what your father taught you about downhill skiing. Keep the blades parallel, bend those knees and crouch as low as possible. Minimizes wind resistance. With any luck we’ll stretch our lead.’
I looked to what lay ahead. It would be a difficult challenge: hard enough in daylight, but in the milky pale moonlight it looked an impossible task. I swallowed hard as my courage deserted me. I suddenly felt incredibly tired. Even if my bullet wound wasn’t serious, I’d still lost some blood. I just wanted to curl up and sleep. ‘Can’t we hide in the cave until morning?’ I asked hopefully.
‘No. Our tracks will give us away. Come on.’ Loki grabbed and shook me. ‘We’re going to get through this, Finn. Believe me.’
So down the valley we skied, our speed as exhilarating as it was frightening. No longer did I have to push my poles into the snow. Now I used them for balance, letting them drag against the surface as I swerved left then right in broad curving sweeps and turns. The wind whistled past my ears and hammered into my face and I desperately wished I had goggles. In the gloom, I could barely make out where I was going. In the end I just tried to follow in Loki’s tracks. In the powder snow, our old skis coped remarkably well. Heimar always looked after his outdoor gear, even the old stuff. He often said that if you treated equipment kindly, it would serve you well, but that if you neglected it, it would become your enemy. Thanks, Heimar, I thought. He’d probably just saved our lives.
I figured I was shooting along at about forty miles an hour. Every time I smacked a bump I lifted off and hung in the air for what seemed like for ever before crashing back down. My knees jarred and I tried not to think about what would happen if I crashed. Bu
t on we went, ever faster, the edges of our skis cutting through the white, making ripping sounds just like cloth being torn into shreds.
Suddenly I glimpsed trees and the sparkle of moonlight on the fjord. Yes! We might actually make it. I wanted to fling my poles into the air and yell at the top of my voice. But we weren’t safe yet. We shot past the ruin and outbuildings, slid along the path through the trees and stopped just yards from the jetty. We pulled and yanked at our bindings and shook our boots free of our skis. I looked down into our tiny rowing boat and my heart sank. A long row awaited us and I was in no fit state to spend hours heaving on those oars. Would Loki have the strength? I peered up the valley but couldn’t see any soldiers. Loki pulled back the hood of his anorak and wiped the sweat from his brow.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said. ‘Let’s take the Gjall. It’ll be one hell of a lot quicker. And it’ll stop Fritz using her to give chase. Quick, Finn, tie our boat to the Gjall’s stern. I’ll try and start her up.’
It was probably Loki’s best idea ever. He clambered aboard and disappeared into the wheelhouse. I untied our rowing boat and guided it beneath the jetty so that it bobbed and clonked up against the Gjall’s stern. Then I leaped aboard, tied her on, and unfastened the Gjall, pushing her away from the jetty with my good arm.
The Gjall’s engine cranked noisily. Puffs of oily smoke belched from her chimney. She seemed very reluctant to rouse herself. I dashed into the cabin and shouted, ‘Did you open her fuel line? Heimar always shuts it off when she’s moored up.’
‘Think so, Finn. Check if you like.’
Dogfight Page 19