Jackals' Revenge

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Jackals' Revenge Page 30

by Iain Gale


  Anna and Smart between them had dealt with both Bandouvas’ and Lamb’s wounds, well enough for the present, although as far as Lamb was concerned the pain was really beginning to kick in. The second wound was the worse of the two. The bullet had hit him in the upper arm, and although it had not lodged itself it had taken away a piece of flesh the size of his fingernail. The field dressing was rudimentary and without any pain relief. He hoped the adrenalin of the moment would compensate. He was more concerned with the fact that he had left two of his men dead back there and it had fired him with an extra impetus to get the rest of them away.

  Bandouvas, he knew, had suffered worse in the fight at the monastery and he could only speculate as to the man’s current frame of mind.

  It was not long before he found out for certain. Bandouvas drew alongside Lamb at the head of the little column as it snaked between the massive sides of the gorge.

  ‘Are you all right? It looked a nasty wound.’

  ‘I’ll live. At least until we get to Alex.’

  ‘Pray God you do, Kapitan.’

  ‘You know the Germans are behind us. Not far off. I don’t know how many yet. They won’t give up now. They don’t just want the King. We have their general.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘They will have called in reinforcements, I think. You do know they’ll do anything they can to get him back. And they know where we’re going now. Your navy will have to be good to get in and out without being bombed out of the water.’

  Lamb nodded. ‘I know that too. You sent a signal?’

  ‘I sent my runner. If he gets through then we must hope that whoever is left at your headquarters can still send a signal.’ He thought for a moment. ‘But you don’t need to take the general, do you? It’s the King you came to rescue. And I know you’re determined to save him, whatever I might think.’

  Lamb turned to him. ‘What do you suggest? The general’s a valuable prisoner.’

  Bandouvas shook his head. ‘He’s an animal. You saw what he did at Theriso. And what about Anna and Hartley? And Ryan’s men too? And the monks and Sofronios? He deserves to die, Lamb. Right here, right now.’

  ‘That would go against the principles of war and the Geneva Convention.’

  ‘Did he respect the Geneva Convention? I don’t think so. He’s denied himself any decent treatment. We should kill him and leave his body for the crows, before they have a chance to get him back and he can do the same again, to more innocent people. Think about that.’

  Lamb’s mind was racing. His code as an officer demanded that a general, any enemy officer, should be treated with respect, but Bandouvas was right. What respect had Sussmann shown to his victims? Besides, over the past few weeks he had seen the old rules being thrown away. It would also make their journey easier to be rid of him.

  ‘Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps we should kill him. Who would do it?’

  Bandovas shrugged. ‘I don’t think I’d have any lack of volunteers.’

  Lamb bit his lip. ‘Give me a few moments.’

  Bandouvas nodded and fell back in line, and as he did so Lamb noticed that Comberwell had been walking close behind them and wondered how much he had heard. He walked over to Lamb.

  ‘All right. I’ll come clean, Lamb. You were right. I am with Section D.’

  ‘Why did you lie to me? Why keep up the pretence?’

  ‘It’s just the way we’re taught. No one must ever know who we are, in case they get caught and give us away. But now I have to tell you. I heard what you said to Bandouvas. You can’t do it, man. We have to get Sussmann away, back to Alex. He’s too great a prize. You have no idea of the information we can get out of him.’

  Lamb looked at him. He found it hard enough to believe that the man he had taken for a fool was in fact a British secret agent. And now he was telling him to go against his gut instinct and save the general – to intervene on behalf of a man who had ordered the massacre of a village and the torture of a woman he loved.

  ‘I’m not sure I can do that. It’s too late.’

  ‘It can’t be. You have to stop it. If my head of section found out he’d chuck you in the Tower and throw away the key. You’d be finished.’

  ‘Why should he find out?’

  ‘Look, old man, I know you must hate the general, after what he did to Anna and the rest of them. But believe me, if we can get Sussmann back to GHQ he will be the biggest prize we’ve ever had. Think of what it would do for your own career.’

  Lamb realised that either way he was compromised. The revenge of executing Sussmann would be sweet but short and ultimately futile. But perhaps to use this sadist as a means of his own advancement might be a sweeter revenge altogether. And there was the undeniable fact that the information he might provide to the intelligence service would almost certainly save hundreds, maybe thousands of Allied lives.

  ‘All right. I’ll do what I can.’

  Comberwell clapped him on the back. ‘Thanks awfully.’

  Stalling Bandouvas, Lamb pressed on along the gorge, pushing against the pain. After three miles he called a halt. The sky was quite clear now and the morning sun shone down on them. Lamb knew that the Germans could not be far behind, but they simply had to stop for a few minutes. Crossing a narrow wooden bridge, they found themselves on a wider path where a stream from further up the mountains cut across the valley floor.

  ‘We’ll take a rest here, Sarnt-Major. Ten minutes. No more. Post sentries and make sure everyone gets some water. The civilians included. And the general.’

  Bandouvas walked across to Lamb.

  ‘We could do it now. I could take him back down the gorge. There’s a cave. Did you see?’

  Lamb nodded. ‘I did, but I’m sorry, I can’t allow it.’

  ‘You’ve changed your mind? Why? That man Comberwell. He is an agent, isn’t he?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kapitan. It would be better to keep him alive. He has valuable information that could save many lives.’

  Bandouvas spat. ‘He’s a killer. A sadist. He deserves to die. Here.’

  Lamb turned on him. ‘No. I’m in command, and I say he stays alive. That’s an order, Kapitan.’

  ‘Why should I take orders from you?’

  ‘Because we came here to help you.’

  ‘You came here because you were driven out of Greece. And when you came you brought only misery and suffering, and the Germanos. I owe you nothing, least of all respect.’

  Anna ran towards Lamb. ‘Stop. Stop fighting. I know why you are fighting.’ She turned on Bandouvas. ‘You want to kill the general, don’t you? Because he murdered your family in Theriso.’ She looked at Lamb. ‘And you, Peter. You’d like to kill him too because of what he did to me. And I should want you to do it. I should want you to make him suffer. And if I told you to do that you would, wouldn’t you? For me.’

  Lamb nodded. ‘Yes, I believe I would.’

  ‘Well, I won’t. I won’t tell you to kill him, or to hurt him until he screams in agony. Oh yes, I’d love to do that. Can’t you see that I would?’ She paused. ‘But I won’t.’

  She turned back to Bandouvas. ‘And I’ll tell you, Kapitan, why I won’t do that. Because I want Kapitan Lamb to take the general away. To take him to Egypt. I want the general to sit in a cell with people who question him until his head spins, and I want him to suffer, and then I want the British to use everything he tells them. And then he will truly suffer. Yes, he will really suffer very much in his mind once he knows how much he has helped Germany to lose this war.’

  Bandouvas shook his head. ‘I still say slit his throat and let him bleed like a pig.’

  She stared at him. ‘No. He lives.’ She walked away.

  Bandouvas looked at Lamb. ‘It is not what I want. But she has suffered. It is her honour too that has been offended, and it is her right to decide what to do with him. You can take him.’

  After precisely ten minutes Lamb got them going again. He sent Eadie’s section in front now and p
laced himself with Smart, Stubbs, Bunce and Rothman, all that remained of Wentworth’s command, around the King and Prince Peter, followed by the Hartleys. Bennett followed on with his men and Sussmann, whose hands they had tied with the same rope he had used on Anna. After them came Comberwell and Anna, while Bandouvas provided the rearguard, his men strung out for 100 yards behind them, ever watchful. As they walked, the mountain goats scattered before them, scrambling away to left and right.

  They crossed another bridge, which could hardly be called that, being no more than two planks of wood across a wider stream. Lamb watched them from the other side until they were all across, including Hartley on his improvised bier.

  Last across were Bandouvas and the remaining andartes. Lamb waited for him. ‘How much longer until we reach the sea?’

  ‘How long now? Four hours, perhaps. It depends on how fast they can go, and you also, Kapitan. You are tired.’

  ‘How far are they behind us?’

  Bandouvas shook his head. ‘They’re getting closer. My men have just come in. They say there are no more than twenty of the Germanos, but they move like wild goats.’

  The mountain troops, thought Lamb. ‘Four hours? We haven’t got that long, have we? Until they catch up.’

  ‘No. I don’t think we have. We could wait for them. In ambush.’

  Lamb nodded. ‘Yes. That was my thinking too. But not here. We need to make some ground. Another two miles? Less?’

  ‘No more. And we’ll have to pick the ground with care.’

  They had been walking for two hours and already the day was hot. The dry, stony ground shone bright white in the rays of the sun that managed to penetrate down through the crevasse, but Lamb was thankful of the rockface of the gorge, which offered shelter from the heat. High in the sky, just visible through the gap 2,000 feet up, against the vivid blue sky, a bird of prey soared above them.

  They were nearing the narrowest part of the gorge and it seemed that the very earth was closing in on them. It was barely eight feet between the sides.

  ‘The sideroportes,’ said Bandouvas. ‘The iron gates. This is where the fighters of Crete used to hide from the Turks. There is a story of how one Turkish soldier followed them down here. They found him hanging from a pear tree. The andartes had taken out his teeth with a bayonet. I don’t know if he was still alive. I do know that the Turks never came down here after them again. People used to say of the portes that they were the doors of hell.’

  Smart shivered. ‘Don’t like the sound of that, sir. Not at all. Gives me the willies. How much longer, sir?’

  ‘Not long, Smart. Soon be at the sea.’

  Lamb could see the light through the end of the great rockface gates now. Eadie’s men had gone on a little, and as he picked up some speed to follow them Bandouvas caught up.

  ‘I will say one thing more. You know, Kapitan Lamb, if you get this man away, the general, what the Germans will do? They told my nephew’s people that for every German we kill they will kill fifty of us. Fifty for one, eh? Imagine what they will do if you take a general.’

  ‘Nice try, Bandouvas. But my mind is made up. Anna did that for me.’

  ‘We should stop then, once we reach the other side of the portes. If you’re still of a mind to fight.’

  ‘We have no choice, do we?’

  At last they spilled out of the slit in the rocks and the hills opened out into gentle slopes covered in loose rocks. The stream too was wider here, lapping gently under the overhanging banks. But the openness meant no shade, and the heat was overpowering.

  ‘Here,’ said Bandouvas.

  Lamb nodded. ‘Yes, this will do. But we’ll need cover.’

  The slopes to either side of the gorge were filled with poplar and cypress trees and strewn with boulders, and there were a number of low stone walls, almost enclosures, which might at some time have housed sheep.

  He called Eadie to him. ‘Charles, we’re going to make a stand here. It’s a good place for an ambush. According to Bandouvas’ scouts there are only a score of them following, so with luck we’ll catch them when they exit from the gorge. Get your lot in position, in whatever cover you can.’ He called to Bennett. ‘Sarnt-Major, detail three men to guard the prisoner and the King. We’ll put the Hartleys with them too. Oh, and find a rifle for Mr Comberwell. We’ll need his help this time.’

  For thirty minutes they sat there, waiting, silent. Lamb had told them to do nothing until they heard his signal. They were to sit tight. Bandouvas had agreed, although he had chosen his own positions. As Lamb yawned and wished for a cigarette, two goats bolted from the entrance to the portes. He thought that he saw something glistening in the sunlight and waved from his position behind a huge boulder to the others, signalling them to keep down. Then, very slowly, he saw one of the Gebirgsjäger crawl along the valley floor, hugging the rocks, followed by another. The two men made the cover of some rocks directly beside the portes and one of them called back with a bird call. Three more mountain troops appeared, and behind them Lieutenant Müller. Emerging into the sunlight and seeing no evidence of any enemy, Müller half straightened up, then called forward the other men behind him. One of them carried an MG34, another its ammunition and a third man an anti-tank rifle. Lamb counted. The andartes had not been wrong: exactly twenty men. Taking no chances, Lamb kept low, scanning the hillside for signs of life. They had taken the precaution of gagging Sussmann, but still, as he crouched out of sight, he could not help but think the enemy might see some evidence of their presence. He counted to five, slowly, and on the final count blew the whistle that hung on a lanyard around his neck. From behind the rocks and walls the men opened up. Two of the Gebirgsjäger went down immediately. Another managed to squeeze off a few rounds from his Schmeisser before the bullets took him, ripping into the left side of Partridge, who was with Bennett’s section. Valentine hurled a grenade and it exploded among some rocks, killing three of the mountain troops and creating a shower of lethal stone which sent shrapnel into three more. Having sprayed the rocks to his front, Lamb changed clips and was watching Dawlish and Hobdell as they pinned down a group of Germans to his left, when he noticed Comberwell. The man was lying across a rock, resting his rifle upon his arm, as if he might be about to take down a stag. As Lamb looked on, while bullets from both sides ricocheted off the rocks, Comberwell fired, and the round from the rifle smashed into Müller’s shoulder. The lieutenant let out a cry, and instants later a second bullet hit him in the thigh. Lamb watched, transfixed, but Comberwell had taken aim again, and his third shot got the lieutenant in the heart. The officer spun round and fell dead on the stones. More grenades found their mark, but the Gebirgsjäger were responding wildly now. The anti-tank gun fired a round and, hitting stone, splintered it into large fragments, one of which flew crazily across the valley and took off a section of Philips’ skull.

  Lamb moved forward and found a position slightly closer to the enemy. Taking careful aim, he squeezed off a single shot and saw a man go down. Anna was up with him now, firing into the enemy, and the few other remaining andartes had climbed higher up the rocks and were pouring it on from above. Lamb saw more of the Germans fall, and then one of them threw down his gun and raised his hands. He died with a bullet from Bandouvas’ gun. When another did the same, Lamb yelled, ‘Cease firing. Hold your fire. Stop firing.’

  The firing sputtered to a stop, and the remaining Gebirgsjäger stood up, their hands above their heads. There were just six left, four of them wounded, one severely.

  Bandouvas yelled at Lamb, something in Greek, and he waved back. ‘Sarnt-Major, bring them in.’

  Then Lamb turned, and walking back to where the royal party had been placed under guard, he stopped dead.

  The guards lay dead on the ground, and above their bodies stood Comberwell. He was holding a knife to the King’s throat. He smiled at Lamb. Beside him stood General Sussmann, who also smiled.

  ‘Captain, well done. Good shooting. Although you had a little help, didn’t
you? From Mr Comberwell.’ He nodded at Miranda Hartley. ‘You, the Englishwoman. Go to that man there.’ He pointed to Valentine. ‘Bring me his pistol.’

  Miranda walked over to Valentine and went for his holster. Sussmann yelled.

  ‘Not so fast. Turn round, so I can see you. And don’t try any funny stuff. Nor you, Sergeant Valentine, or Mr Comberwell here will slice the King from ear to ear.’

  Miranda reached into the holster and pulled out the Luger.

  ‘Now bring it here.’

  Sussmann rubbed at his wrists as Miranda walked towards him, and for an instant Lamb thought she might try something. But she simply handed it over.

  ‘And now we will take the King. Of course it means nothing to me whether he lives or dies, but right now he’s our insurance so we’ll keep him alive. For the rest of you, though, I’m afraid time is up.’

  Lamb played for time. ‘Comberwell, what I don’t understand is how you managed to alert the colonel.’

  Comberwell smiled and relaxed his hold on the King. ‘Oh, it was simple really. Such luck. You see I really am in Section D, but I recognised you from a list in Gestapo HQ. I went straight to Colonel “R”, as fast as I could. He was overjoyed to find that his protégé was in Athens. And then I had you. I knew that at some point in our little adventure I would be able to manipulate you and, well, here we are. Not quite as I had planned, but it will do.’

  Sussmann spoke again. ‘Yes, it will do. You’re all finished now.’ He called across to the captured Gebirgsjäger and quickly they walked over to Lamb’s men and began to disarm them. He called to Lamb, ‘Captain. If you please.’

  Lamb nodded to Bennett and the men handed over their weapons to the Germans, who moved quickly to join the general. He called a command and the Germans motioned Lamb and his men and those of Bandouvas, with the civilians, to close together into a tighter group. Lamb knew what would come next: the order to open fire.

 

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