No Mercy

by Forbes, Colin

  Paula was thrilled when Tweed handed her the binoculars. It took her no time at all to view He des Oiseaux in her lenses. She studied the gulch carefully. Steep, but here and there were massive chunks of limestone by the side of the gulch. Possible hiding places.

  Then she swept the binoculars out to sea, and froze. A long way out she caught sight of smoke, the vague silhouette below it of a distant ship heading for the islands. She handed the binoculars to Cardon.

  'There's a vessel coming in, still a long way out. Could it be the Oran?'

  'Yes, it will be,' Garden told her. 'No other vessel is going to be heading for the islands from so far out. I estimate it should reach Oiseaux in a couple of hours, We'll get back to Vieux Port now.'

  Turning round, she saw Marler posted a long way back by the church. His golf bag, unzipped, rested against the wall. At the other end of the platform Butler was standing with his large satchel open at his feet. They were guarding the rear of Tweed and his companions. This was Marseilles.

  19

  They drove straight to Garden's boat in the harbour. It was a larger craft than Paula had realized. On the bridge a flat sheet of steel was securely attached to the deck. It was about the height of Paula's neck and she could just see over the top.

  'What's that for?' she asked.

  'Protection.' Cardon grinned. 'Against a hail of machine-gun bullets.'

  'This could be exciting, then.'

  'Doubt if we'll need it.' As he talked he was checking parts of the vessel that meant nothing to her. She became aware of the craft swaying at anchorage, the hull moving up and down. Large waves were sweeping in through the harbour entrance, but the sun still blazed down, bathing her neck and arms.

  'Change in the weather?' she wondered.

  'The heat at this time of the year happens about once in a decade. It's often accompanied by a strong breeze. It'll be more bumpy once we've left harbour.'

  'Excuse me, I want to find Tweed. He's gone below.'

  'First cabin on your right at the bottom of the steps.'

  She found Tweed leaning back on a bunk, looking unhappy and grim. He managed a smile as she closed the door.

  'Even in harbour this thing dances about all over the place,' he commented sourly.

  'It'll be worse when we get on to the open sea.'

  'Thanks a lot.'

  Tweed had never been happy afloat, complaining once that he didn't like the sea at all. It wouldn't keep still. She took a small bottle from her shoulder bag, emptied a pill into her hand, handed it to him, her expression stern.

  'Dramamine.' She picked up an opened bottle of mineral water. 'Don't argue with me. Just swallow it.'

  'Seems silly that I suffer from seasickness in this gentle swell.'

  'Lots of people do. The swell won't be so gentle out on the Med. Take it!' she commanded. 'I think we'll soon be leaving.'

  With a grimace he swallowed it, washed down with plenty of water. She sat beside him on the bunk, smiling cheerfully. 'If you're worried about Marin - Cardon, that is - knowing, I shan't say a word. Now relax. I'm exploring the rest of this vessel.'

  She found her fellow team members, except Cardon, in the spacious main cabin. They were very occupied. Marler was examining his Armalite rifle, then loading it. The golf bag in which he'd concealed it was lying on a couch. Butler was testing his Sten gun, aiming and firing without ammo. Nield had a Glock pistol, which he was tucking inside his belt under his windcheater. Butler dived inside his holdall, brought out something he handed to Paula.

  'An egg. Might come in useful.'

  The 'egg' was a hand grenade. She checked it carefully, then tucked it firmly inside her bag. During her recent retraining trip, the new instructor had made her throw three live ones over a wall, had not been satisfied and had handed her more. Altogether he'd made her throw thirty live grenades. 'You'll do' had been his final comment. Later she'd heard from Sarge, the normal trainer who had returned before she left: 'That's the highest compliment he ever pays.'

  'Where were you, Pete?' she asked Nield. 'You didn't come with us.'

  'Tweed told me to stay behind to keep an eye on all our rooms. I kept up a walking patrol.'

  'I didn't realize he was so nervous.'

  'Not nervous.' Pete squeezed her shoulder. 'Typically careful. Someone could have planted a bomb in your absence.'

  'Doesn't miss a trick.'

  'Which is why we survive.'

  The engine suddenly started up, making the vessel vibrate. Paula decided she'd visit Tweed, see how he was. When she entered his cabin he was standing up, walking about, slapping his arms round his body. He winked at her.

  'You're OK?'

  'I'm going up on to the bridge. The Capulet is about to leave harbour.'

  'Is that what it's called?'

  'Yes, I noticed when we came aboard. Garden has a soft spot for Romeo and Juliet. Want to join me?'

  Arriving on the bridge, they saw Harry on the landing stage, releasing the ropes, bow first, then stern. He leaped aboard agilely as the vessel edged its way into mid-harbour. Paula was always surprised at how agile Harry was with his stout figure.

  'Port master has radioed permission, confirmed the exit passage is clear,' Garden told them, both hands on the wheel. He took off one hand, grabbed two yellow oilskins and threw them to Tweed. 'If both of you are staying up here you'd better put those on. Sea's a bit choppy out there.'

  As they emerged into the open, Paula saw larger waves than she had expected. Tweed was gripping a handrail, peering over the steel sheet. He seemed to be in his element despite the swaying movements of the Capulet. He grabbed a sou'wester hat from a deep shelf, clapped it on his head. Spray was now spattering them on the bridge as the vessel plunged down the far side of a wave. Tweed took off his horn-rimmed glasses, tucked them in his suit pocket under the oilskin. As on earlier occasions he found he could see just as well without them. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with them. Fumbling in a pocket, he found his monocular. Cardon had increased speed and they were racing away from the mainland.

  Looking back, Paula was enthralled by the view. Now she could clearly see that vast limestone amphitheatre enclosing the city from a distance. The sun's glare was reflecting off the limestone so strongly she blinked. A panoramic sight she would never forget.

  'I'm picking up speed.' Cardon explained, 'because it occurred to me the Oran may arrive at Oiseaux earlier - to get under cover of the island.'

  'We must expect trouble when we're close to the gulch on this side,' Marler warned. 'They're bound to guard the only other landing place. If possible, we should avoid the sound of shooting,' he told Butler and Nield, who had joined them. 'Leave it to me if you can.'

  'So they won't hear you,' Harry said sarcastically.

  Marler showed him the Armalite. Paula had noticed that the barrel seemed longer than she remembered it. Marler tapped the tip of the weapon.

  'This is an advanced silencer invented by the boffins down in Park Crescent's basement. I brought it with me through the Waterloo checkpoint. As I'd hoped, wrapped in a special material it wasn't picked up by a metal detector. So, if it works, leave the killing to me.'

  Paula was gazing at the He du Chateau d'If as they passed a good way to its north. A brutal-looking rock — just the place to keep Alexandre Dumas's captive hidden for years. Beyond it the lie des Oiseaux came into view, its triangular shape now clearly visible. Tweed was staring through his monocular at the approaching gulch.

  Cardon had slowed down, to make less noise. They were close in now and the savage narrow gulch was clearly visible with the naked eye. Tweed studied it with his monocular from the flat base projecting into the sea up its twisting climb.

  'No sign of life,' he reported. 'Some convenient limestone chunks at intervals which could be used as firing platforms.'

  'I saw them from when we were at the Notre-Dame viewing point,' Paula recalled. 'Let's hope the brigands aren't waiting for us behind them.'

  Tension
was rising aboard the vessel. No one showed it outwardly but Paula could sense it. Cardon had explained the vessel would have to be moored to the rock platform with huge hooks he'd had attached to another set of mooring lines.

  Harry leaped ashore with one rope while Marler, at the prow, took another hooked rope. Rusty rings sunk into the platform were used to secure the Capulet.

  'Proceed with great caution,' Tweed warned before jumping on to the platform, gripping his Walther.

  It seemed strangely still and silent on the little-used platform, an atmosphere Tweed didn't like. Crouching low, he darted into the entrance to the gulch with Marler, looking up. He kept moving with the others at his heels. The surface of the gulch was an ankle-breaker. Small rocks scattered everywhere as the walls closed round them. Still no sound, no sign of life.

  Marler was in front now while Tweed followed with Paula by his side. Arriving at a massive chunk of limestone as big as a small house, Marler peered round it. All he saw was the steep incline of the gulch climbing above him. He began to move faster, Armalite held at the ready.

  They negotiated a stretch of path no wider than passage for one person at a time, past another massive limestone chunk. Marler paused frequently to listen, to stare up. The only sound was the lap of the waves against the platform way below them now.

  They reached the summit suddenly - so unexpectedly that Marler dipped his head. Tweed and Paula peered over the edge. They were stunned by what they saw below beyond the edge of the summit sloping steeply downwards.

  'It's been and gone!' exclaimed Paula.

  'They came in more quickly than I'd thought possible.' said Garden, who had followed them up, risking leaving the Capulet unattended. 'And they've dumped their cargo. Why?'

  They had a clear view of the landing platform at the edge of the sea. It was littered with large bales, some burst open, spilling their contents. Tweed was using his monocular to scan the Oran. The large freighter was broadside on as it headed out to the open sea.

  'That ship has a large square dent near the prow on the port side,' he observed. 'Must at some time have slammed into a harbour wall. It also has a lot of Arabs on deck - far more than I would have thought were needed to crew the vessel.'

  'But why dump their cargo?' Cardon persisted. 'It looks like fibrous materials used in Muslim food mixed with other ingredients.'

  'Taken aboard at Algiers to give it a legitimate reason for sailing,' Tweed told him. 'I suspect its real purpose is to collect something else from another destination. Paula, see the large wheeled landing stage shoved off the edge. Visible because the water is so clear.'

  A strong breeze was increasing in strength. Waves washed over the platform, sweeping the bales back into the sea. Tweed pocketed his monocular, turned to Cardon.

  'I want us to get back to your launch fast. We need to shadow the Oran for a distance. I want to know which course she takes when she gets out into the main channel.'

  'I suggest we get back very fast,' Paula warned. 'They've left guards behind on this island.'

  All eyes turned to where she was staring. Six Arabs armed with automatic weapons had appeared a distance away to their left. They were hurrying towards Tweed's team. Garden rapped out an order. 'Run like hell for the gulch. We've got to get down to my launch and away from here pretty damned quick.'

  Harry, carrying his Sten, led the way, his short legs working like pistons as he disappeared down the gulch. Tweed followed him with the others at his heels. Scrambling down the large crevice was harder than climbing it. Their feet slithered on small limestone chips. Marler stayed behind as Paula passed him. Nield was ahead of her and they'd both lost sight of Cardon, who was darting down the gulch like a fox running after hounds. Marler was now lying full length on the ground behind a small rock.

  The six Arabs had divided up into two sections with three men in each. They were moving faster than anyone had expected. Marler aimed his Armalite at the right-hand, near section. He fired three times rapidly. Three shots, and three Arabs sagged to the ground. The second section had located him. Machine-gun bullets spat up alarmingly close to him.

  He jumped up, ran, disappeared down inside the gulch. He was moving so fast he failed to notice Paula had slipped, turning an ankle behind a massive limestone rock. She was on her own now.

  Paula peered round the side of the limestone block, which gave her a view of the lower gulch. The team was spread out in a line at a point where the narrow path ran straight. She heard the crunch of boots coming down from above.

  Three huge Arabs hugging machine pistols were moving fast down the gulch. They only had to pass her rock, continue a short distance, then they could stand and aim a lethal fusillade, killing every member of her team.

  She reached inside her shoulder bag and extracted the 'egg' given to her by Harry. A grenade of great explosive power, she felt sure. Her crawl behind the rock had covered her from head to foot in limestone dust. She realized she merged with the ground she was lying on. Her ankle was half-killing her. She gritted her teeth, gripping the grenade.

  The tallest of the three Arabs gave an order in Arabic. She didn't understand a word. But she understood the act of the three levelling their weapons, barrels aimed downwards. It was going to be a slaughter.

  She pressed the red button, as instructed by Harry. With an agonizing effort, she eased herself round the rock, saw the three Arabs standing still, machine pistols aimed at their target. The whole team. She lobbed the grenade, saw it land at the heels of the tall Arab. She jerked her head back.

  The explosion, penned inside the gulch walls, was deafening. A round ball-like object, covered in blood, shot up the gulch past her rock. It was the head of the tallest Arab. Peering round again, she saw a horrible mess of shattered bodies. Easing herself back behind the rock, she extracted a water bottle and her scarf from the shoulder bag. After soaking the cloth in water, she stuffed it down inside her boot. The relief was indescribable. Hauling herself upright, she found she could walk. She hobbled down the gulch, past the shattered Arab bodies, continued on down until she reached the platform where the launch was tethered.

  'Where's Paula, for God's sake?' Tweed was shouting.

  'Bloody Paula is here,' she yelled back. 'What is this -women and children last?'

  'I thought you were ahead of us,' Tweed replied, rushing over to her.

  'Didn't damned well think at all, did you?' she blazed.

  'What was that explosion?' Harry asked.

  'Your flaming egg detonating. Killing three Arabs seconds before they blasted you all to kingdom come.'

  'Oh, heavens! I'm so sorry,' Tweed said, grasping her by the arm to help her hobble aboard the launch.

  'Won't forgive any of you for one hell of a long time,' she shouted. 'Cardon, hadn't you better get this old tub moving? Tweed wants to check the Draw's course.'

  Marler ran forward to where she sat on the bridge. He had the sense to say nothing. With a first-aid kit tucked under his arm he carefully removed her boot, checked her ankle after gently taking off the scarf. He examined it, squeezed ointment from a tube over it. Paula sighed with the pleasure of the coolness, bent down and kissed Marler. He looked up, winked. Then he slowly wrapped a bandage round her ankle and told her to hit him if it hurt. He used only one layer of bandage, told her she might be able to get her boot back on and this would give support. She didn't look at Tweed, who was checking the route the launch was taking.

  By now Cardon had revved up, steered the launch away from the platform and was guiding it round the end of the island and into the open sea. Marler slowly slid Paula's foot inside the boot and then waved his hand. He thought it best for her to see how it fitted. She leaned down, pulled it up inch by inch. No pain. Gripping a handrail, she stood up, maintaining her balance. Tweed kept turning round to look at her but never once did she return his glances. Marler shook his head and Tweed sensibly said nothing. Give her time for her fury to fade.

  The island was now behind them and the Ca
pulet was racing towards the distant Oran. The sea was now calm, a sapphire plate. The gap between the two vessels was closing as the Oran changed course. Tweed was leaning over the protective plate, staring intensely.

  'It's well out now,' he shouted above the engine sound, 'and it's changed course to southwest. That means it's heading for the Straits of Gibraltar and the Atlantic beyond. It will turn north. Europe is its objective. So, now I know.'

  'We're in trouble,' Cardon warned. 'They've seen us and they're winching a big power launch over the side.' He was studying the vessel through binoculars. 'A lot of men on board with guns. They're coming for us.'

  'Pancake time,' Marler called out, lifting his flat case.

  'Pancakes?' Paula said incredulously.

  'Latest development in sea mines.'