‘Oh dear,’ a voice called out softly. ‘You seem to have got yourself in a bit of a pickle, my dear chap.’
He turned as he recognised Moss’s voice and saw his companion with his chute and kitbag bundled in his arms. He dropped them by the tree trunk and drew his knife to help Andreas.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Helping you out, old boy.’
Andreas shook his head. ‘That’s not the way it works, my friend. We’re supposed to make our own way to the school. You remember what they said. It’s easier to avoid attention and capture if we act alone.’
Moss chuckled. ‘Of course. That’s what they told us. And having told us that you can be sure the patrols will be looking for men on their own.’ He tapped his jump helmet. ‘Using my loaf. Come on, let’s get this mess sorted out.’
Andreas turned his attention back to the silk and cords festooned over the tree and they worked quickly until most of it had been cut away. Then, burying the chutes, their suits and helmets in a shallow pit, they paused to take their rations, compass and revolvers from their kitbags. The weapons were unloaded but issued to the agents to add to the versimilitude of the exercise. Underneath the jumpsuits they wore plain civilian clothes and while Andreas stood some chance of being taken for a local, Moss did not, and had to wear a cap over his cropped fair hair. With the location of the reservoir he had seen earlier, together with the compass, Andreas had the direction they would need to travel and they set off, across the open ground towards a hill a few kilometres off that Andreas had chosen as their first waypoint. They walked in silence for a while, striding quickly across the dark landscape to get away from the landing site. There was to be an hour’s grace before the search for them began. It would commence from where they had landed and sweep in the general direction of the school and towards a second cordon of patrols lying across the path of the agents.
They steered clear of settlements and roads and used tracks that could not easily be traversed by vehicles. A few times they encountered flocks of sheep and warily worked their way round. Once they were not so successful and the animals rose to their feet and their bleating roused a shepherd who shouted angrily into the night as Andreas and Moss ran off. Reaching the crest of the hill just as the first smudge of light crept along the eastern horizon, Andreas paused to scrutinise the lay of the land ahead. Trees blanketed the slope in front of them before giving out on to more farmland and pasture. A small town lay some five kilometres off and a minaret rose up, dark and slender, against a fainter shade of darkness beyond.
‘Look there,’ Moss said quietly and Andreas turned to see his companion pointing back the way they had come. The beams of headlights crept across the ground where they had landed over an hour before. There were more vehicles abroad, picking their way steadily along the rutted country lanes.
‘They didn’t waste much time. And they’re starting to head in our direction. We’re in for some sport. Now I know how the fox feels.’
‘Fox?’
‘Hunting, old boy. Surely you know. Horses, hounds and a wily fox to run to ground.’
‘Not on Lefkas.’
‘Really? Poor show.’
Andreas regarded him with concern. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we did not regard this as a game.’
‘But it is a game. All a game. The difference is the stakes are much higher. When a man is playing for his life against the lives of others, he is engaged in the absolute acme of sporting pursuits and there is nothing finer, more noble or more downright enjoyable.’
‘You may think so. But I am only interested in liberating my country from tyranny. That is all. It is not a game for me. It is a sacred purpose.’
Moss frowned at him. ‘A different perspective, to be sure, but no more than that. As long as we dish the Hun, that’s all that matters.’
Andreas drew a deep breath to calm his irritation, and again wondered if Moss truly felt this way, or whether it was a manner he affected to carry him through the terrible dangers he faced serving in the SOE. If so, it seemed to be a common trait of the British officers he had met and he wondered if he would ever truly understand them. But this was not the time to speculate.
‘We should keep moving. We could be in that town by dawn and have a better chance of hiding in a crowd.’
Moss considered the notion and nodded. ‘How far from there to the school?’
‘If that’s Al Qatah, then another eighteen or twenty kilometres at the outside. We can cover that before the deadline.’
‘It’s not the distance that’s an issue. They’re bound to have the approaches to the school covered. That’ll be the real challenge.’
Andreas nodded. ‘We’ll work out a solution when we get closer. Let’s go.’
Scrambling down from the crest they entered the treeline and picked their way through the trees. On the far side, they kept close to the walls and drainage ditches dividing the farms and worked their way towards the town as the dawn crept into the sky and the landscape resolved itself into more detail and pastel shades of colour. Once, as they made to cross a road, they had to take cover as they heard a vehicle approaching and an open-topped car with two red-capped military policemen rumbled past, leaving a wake of swirling dust. Andreas and Moss stayed pressed to the ground in the ditch beside the road and only emerged after the sound of the vehicle had faded away. Thereafter they approached any roads and tracks cautiously, until they reached the more humble dwellings at the edge of Al Qatah. Some of the inhabitants had already risen and exchanged curious greetings with the two strangers striding purposefully into the town.
‘I think we’re provoking a little attention,’ Moss muttered.
‘We’re not local people, and we aren’t dressed to pass as locals,’ Andreas said. ‘We should change. The patrols probably know what we look like. It’s the sort of thing the instructors at the school would tell them to make it more of a challenge.’
Moss nodded.
A short while later they were in the heart of the town, in the market square where some of the stallholders were already setting out their wares. Andreas used some of the currency from the equipment bags and bought a pair of keffiyehs, baggy trousers, sandles and dark jackets for them to wear and they changed in a side street, abandoning their former clothes and boots in a heap of refuse that had been swept into a space between two buildings.
By the time they left the town there were plenty of other people, animals and vehicles on the road and they walked steadily along the verge, trying not to look conspicuous by walking too fast or too slow. Late in the morning another military police patrol cruised along the road towards them, the occupants scrutinising those they passed by. Andreas felt his pulse quicken as they approached, fearing that their true identities would be obvious amongst the more markedly Middle Eastern features of those around them. As the car came closer, Moss stepped off the edge of the road into a field and pulled down his trousers and squatted. Andreas silently cursed him, but then the car was alongside, the driver glanced at Moss with a quick look of disgust and eased the accelerator down to pass by more quickly. When he had gone a safe distance Moss pulled up his trousers and hurried back to Andreas’s side with a wide grin.
‘Did the trick!’
‘Surely. But please warn me next time you try something like that.’
Moss laughed good-naturedly and they continued along the road in the direction of the school without seeing any sign of further patrols. Then, shortly after midday, the same car came back along the road and as it went by Andreas saw one of the other agents sitting in the back, beside a military policeman.
‘That was Theopopilis,’ he said quietly.
‘I saw. Tough luck for him.’
Andreas nodded. His fellow Greek would have to repeat the exercise. In the field, if he had failed, he would have been in the hands of the Gestapo and would be facing interrogation, torture and execution. The thought made Andreas all the more determined to ensure that he regarded the exercise a
s the real thing and did whatever it took to reach his goal. The sooner his training was over, the sooner he could return to Lefkas and fight those who had invaded his beloved island.
It was mid-afternoon before they neared Mount Carmel and saw the school and its grounds on the slope. Even at a distance they could see the tiny figures of men patrolling the fields and terraced fruit trees around the buildings and Andreas appreciated the challenge facing him and his companion. Then, as they rounded a sharp bend in the road, they saw a checkpoint ahead of them. Two cars were parked either side of the road and a squad of redcaps was checking people through, scrutinising them and questioning some closely before waving them on. Two military policemen were walking either side of the cars, carts and pedestrians queueing to get through.
‘What do we do?’ asked Moss. ‘They’ll pick us out quick as a flash. We’d better run for it.’
‘Too late for that,’ Andreas replied. ‘We run and they’ll see us at once. We’re not going to get far in these sandals.’
‘What then?’
‘We’ll have to try and bluff it. That’s all we can do now.’
The queue shuffled forward and as they approached the checkpoint Andreas prepared himself to play the part of an Arab with no command of English, and hoped that they would focus their attention on him and let Moss stand still and silent at his side, head lowered.
‘It’s no good,’ Moss whispered. ‘I’ll never pass for a local. I have to get out of here. Look, I’ll try and make a scene of it. If I can get away, so much the better. Either way, you take advantage of the diversion to get past that lot.’
Andreas thought about protesting but he knew his friend’s suggestion made sense and after a hesitation he nodded his agreement. It would be better that one of them succeeded than both be taken. He sucked in a breath between his teeth. ‘Good luck, Bill.’
‘And you.’
They were a scant ten feet from the checkpoint when Moss suddenly bolted towards the side of the road and the field beyond.
‘Oi, you! Stop!’ a redcap shouted and his comrades instantly turned towards the commotion.
Moss kept running, keffiyeh flapping as he fled.
The redcap sergeant in charge of the checkpoint drew his revolver and cupped it in his spare hand as he bellowed. ‘Stop, Abdul, else I’ll put a bullet in your bloody back!’
Moss ignored the cry and the military policeman fired a round into the air. At once the civilians on the road hunched down in alarm and Andreas followed suit. The redcap lowered the barrel of his revolver and took aim at Moss, using his left hand to steady his grip. ‘Last fucking warning, Abdul . . .’
Moss stopped and turned round.
‘Raise your hands!’
He did as he was told.
‘Now get your arse over here.’
The agent strode back towards the military policeman. As Moss reached the road he lowered his hands and smiled. ‘It seems you have me, my dear fellow.’
‘Keep you hands up.’
‘Really, I don’t think this sort of thing is terribly necessary.’
The redcap kept him covered, but smiled back. ‘For all I know, you could be a Jerry spy, sir.’
‘If that was so, then I hardly think you would call me “sir”.’
‘You may think what you like, but keep your ruddy ’ands up.’
Moss did as he was told and the redcap shoved him in the direction of the nearest car. The civilians stood up now the drama was over and milled around.
‘Get that bloody lot through the checkpoint and clear the road!’ the sergeant roared. His men waved them through with cries of, ‘Emshi! Emshi!’
Andreas rounded his shoulders and lowered his head in obeisance as he hurried past the soldiers and on to the road beyond. He continued a short distance before risking a look back. The sergeant was still questioning Moss, who had been allowed to lower his hands so that they could be handcuffed. Then he was led to one of the cars and made to sit in the back seat, with a redcap at his side. Andreas felt regret that his comrade had been captured but he still had to complete the exercise on his own and looking up at the approaches to the school entrance he could see no clear way to get past the patrols and those keeping watch.
A short distance ahead the road bent to the right, before the turning leading up the hill to the school. The crowd had begun to disperse and Andreas deliberately slowed until he was at the rear. As he reached the bend he turned and saw the sergeant making his way over to the car with Moss sitting inside and climbing into the driver’s position. The sound of the engine starting carried up the road and Andreas’s pulse quickened as he conceived a plan of action. It was risky but it seemed like the best chance he had of completing the exercise. He hurried round the corner and picked a spot where the car would have to slow down as it rounded the bend and prepared to turn on to the road leading up the hill to the school. The last of the local people had already moved some distance ahead and would not be able to thwart his plan if they looked back.
The sound of the engine being revved as it started up the road spurred Andreas’s resolve and he moved out into the middle of the road, heart racing, and reached into his bag. A moment later the car changed down a gear as the sergeant approached the bend. With a deep-breath to control his nerves, Andreas lay down on the road, and curled up into a ball. He could hear the gravel crunching under the car’s tyres as it negotiated the corner and then he saw it, coming fast towards him. He saw the sergeant’s jaw drop in surprise an instant before he kicked down on the brakes and the car rapidly slowed and slid to a stop, ten feet away.
‘What the fuck are you doing there? Get up and get off the bloody road, you lazy Arab!’
Andreas raised an arm feebly and let it drop back beside him. The sergeant cranked the handbrake up and climbed down from the driver’s position and strode towards him.
‘Up! Up, I said, damn you!’
Andreas let out a groan and gave a slight writhe. He saw the shadow of the military policeman on the gravel in front of him and then the sergeant squatted down on his heels and shook Andreas’s shoulder. ‘On your feet.’
Andreas’s left hand shot out and his fist piled into the sergeant’s jaw, sending the man sprawling on to his back. Andreas scrambled to his feet, pulled out his revolver and aimed it at the sergeant’s face. He glanced towards the car. The other redcap was rising from the seat while Moss’s expression creased into a cheerful grin.
‘Uncuff the prisoner!’ Andreas ordered in his accented English. ‘Do it! Or I’ll shoot this man.’
The redcap hesitated and Moss chipped in, ‘Better do as he says. Looks like a desperate man to me.’
After a brief hesitation, during which Andreas pressed the muzzle of his weapon into the sergeant’s cheek, the soldier took out his keys and released Moss. Andreas prodded the sergeant with his toe.
‘All right, I want you to drive. Your friend sits beside you. We’ll be behind with guns to your backs. Clear? Now hand your weapon over. You too!’ he added, glancing up towards the other soldier. The redcaps did as they were instructed and Andreas climbed into the back, putting his own gun away as he took up the sergeant’s weapon.
‘All very neat,’ Moss said approvingly. ‘You have a knack for this kind of work. So what next?’
For the first time since the exercise began, Andreas felt confident enough to smile. ‘We drive into the school and complete the exercise.’
He prodded the back of the seat with the revolver. ‘Let’s go. Up the hill. Not one word of warning to anyone, Sergeant. Is that clear?’
‘Or what, sir?’
‘Or I’ll blow your spine out. I would, if I was in the field. But even if this is only an exercise, your revolver is real enough, and so are the bullets. Bear that in mind. Now, let’s get moving.’
The sergeant put the car into gear and eased it forward carefully, not wanting to take any risks of being accidentally shot with his own weapon due to some unfortuitous jolt. He turned on to the
road leading up the hill and the two agents kept low, squeezed into the gap behind the front seats. Soon the car was negotiating hairpin bends and once slowed as the sergeant exchanged a brief greeting with a patrol they passed on the road. Andreas gave the redcap a gentle prod and he accelerated and drove on. After fifteen minutes or so the sergeant began to slow down.
‘What’s the matter?’ Andreas demanded.
‘There’s a barrier down at the gate to the school, sir. What should I do?’
Andreas thought quickly. ‘Drive up but stop a short distance from the barrier, far enough so they can’t see the rear seats. Tell them you have an urgent message for the commanding officer. If they don’t raise the barrier, then drive through it.’
‘Are you mad?’
‘No. But I am armed, and for the purposes of the exercise, dangerous. Do as I say!’
The sergeant shrugged. ‘As you wish, sir. But I’ll want it in writing that I was acting on your orders. They’ll not be stopping my pay to cover the damages.’
‘Shut up and drive,’ Moss growled.
The car slowed and stopped as it was challenged by a sentry on the gate. The sergeant barked his response.
‘Message for the CO! Open the barrier!’
‘Leave it with me, I’ll pass it on.’
‘I’ve orders to deliver it in person.’
‘Sorry, Sergeant. No one enters without the say-so from the CO.’
‘Don’t you bloody give me that. I’ve got orders. Now get the barrier up or I’ll have you on a fucking charge, my lad!’ He gunned the engine for good measure, and then, as his two hidden passengers exchanged a doubtful glance, they heard the clank of a chain and the squeal of metal and the car edged forward. They swept past the whitewashed barrier, pointing into the sky at an angle, and the sergeant slowed down and looked over his shoulder.
Hearts of Stone Page 23
