by Seb Spence
Vaughan, followed by the two women, walked rapidly down the side of the truck to the front, where Hahn and the other man were standing with Lukasz. They had opened the bonnet and were looking in at the engine. The two Brandenburgers had their machine pistols slung around their necks, and Hahn was holding a large canvas pack with his left hand.
“Lukasz,” Vaughan said, “it’s time to go. Sergeant, I believe you are accompanying us?”
“That’s right, but I have to tie up a couple of loose ends first. Corporal Mutz here is going to assist me.” The other man grinned at Vaughan, and Hahn continued: “You go on ahead, Brigadier. We’ll bring up the rear and cover you if necessary. I’ll catch up with you beyond the headland.”
“Come on, then,” Vaughan urged the others, “there’s no time to loose.” With that, Vaughan, Lukasz and the two women began to follow after Drechsler’s men at a trot.
As soon as they reached the promontory, the Brandenburgers scrambled up its side and began to dig in to positions behind boulders and bushes near the ridge. By the time Vaughan and the others had got to the tip of the headland, Drechsler’s men were no longer visible, having concealed themselves totally. Grace took a last look back towards the lorry and saw that Hahn and Mutz were doing something at the far end of the bridge, though what it was she could not make out at that distance. As she rounded the point of the headland, they became lost to view.
Beyond the promontory, the track swept in a semicircular arc round the edge of a broad bay that, she estimated, must have been about a mile across. As they started to run along this stretch, Grace noticed that at the far side of the bay there was a jetty with a rowing boat tied up to it. She could also see, in the distance, the western end of the loch and noted that there was a single-storey structure of some kind on its shore – perhaps a boathouse of some sort, she wondered.
5.
09.51 – 10.13 hrs: Loch Carran and surrounding area
General Cunningham had his driver pull up at the junction for Loch Carran and then got out of the car to wave down the vehicles approaching from Lochearnhead. He stopped just long enough to explain to the captain in charge of the detachment what was happening and what needed to be done. Rather than ride point himself, he judged that it would be better if the ‘Dingo’ scout car led the way down the road to Loch Carran: he realised that with its inch-thick frontal armour, it was more likely than his staff car to survive any further rifle-grenade attacks. His car would follow it, and the rest of the convoy would come on after him. Two men were to be left at the junction to flag down the troops coming up from Callander and redirect them down the turn-off.
Within a minute, Cunningham and the detachment from Lochearnhead were on the move again, driving along the narrow, meandering road that led to the loch. He estimated that Vaughan and the others could not be more than two or three minutes ahead. However, a mile or so down the road there was a further delay when the ‘Dingo’ took a bend too fast and slewed into a wall. Fortunately, neither the crew nor the vehicle suffered serious harm, but the incident held them up for a couple of minutes.
Once the ‘Dingo’ was back on the road, the convoy started off again and reached the head of the loch without further setbacks. As their staff car emerged from the woodland and began to follow the road around the end shore, Cunningham and Minton simultaneously spotted Vaughan’s lorry three hundred yards away, standing at the approach to a bridge. The tailboard was down and both cab doors were open. It seemed to be empty.
“Looks as if they’ve abandoned it in a hurry,” Cunningham observed.
“Perhaps,” Minton replied, pulling his service revolver from his holster. “I think I’ll have this at the ready, though, in case they’ve left a welcoming committee.”
The convoy reached the lorry in less than a minute and came to a halt behind it. Cunningham and Minton got out and ran quickly down the nearside of the scout car and up to the lorry’s cab, scanning the surroundings as they went. They found no one there and saw no sign of anyone nearby.
“They’ve probably bolted for the cover of the trees,” Cunningham suggested, nodding towards the woods a few hundred yards away to the east.
Minton looked along the margin of the trees but could detect no sign of the fugitives. Turning back towards the lorry, he happened to glance down and notice the hole at the bottom of the petrol tank. He bent down to examine it and then a few seconds later straightened up. “The tank’s got a bullet hole in it. My guess is they ran out of fuel. If they were heading for somewhere in particular, they might have continued on foot – we can’t rule out the possibility that they’ve gone on down the road.”
“I don’t think so, Minton. They’ve lost the initiative – they’re just reacting to events now. They dodged down this back road in the hope of throwing us off their trail. It was a gamble, but it hasn’t paid off. Now they want to melt into the countryside, and their best bet is the woods: they know they’ll be visible from the air if they try crossing the hills by day. That reminds me, where are the damned spotter planes?”
Minton looked up and searched the sky for aircraft, but there were none.
“Still,” Cunningham continued, “you might be right: we should send the scout car down the loch road in case they went that way.” He turned round and regarded the lorry: it had come to a halt a few yards from the bridge and was blocking access to it. It would have to be moved. He looked into the cab and noted there was no key in the ignition.
At this point, the captain in charge of the Lochearnhead detachment joined them. “Do you want me to get the men out of the transport now, sir?”
“Yes, and organise them into search teams. The chances are that Cobalt and her German friends have made for the forest yonder – we’re going to have to hunt them down there. And you’d better get a squad of your men to push this lorry off the road so that the ‘Dingo’ can get by – I want it to continue down the loch side to see if there’s any sign of them in that direction. Once you’ve arranged that, radio the command centre in Stirling and tell them to divert all spotter aircraft to the airspace around Loch Carran, and to send us the dog teams and trackers straightaway.”
The captain ran back down the line of vehicles, shouting out the order to debus, and then, from among the first to jump down, he picked a lance-corporal and told him to take half a dozen men forward and push the abandoned lorry off the road without delay.
Minton and Cunningham had laid out over the bonnet of their staff car, a map of the area and were poring over it as the captain’s men ran up to deal with the lorry. The lance corporal climbed into the cab, released the handbrake and took the wheel, while the others put their shoulders to the rear and began to push for all they were worth. Slowly, it started to move forward and the man in the cab turned the wheel to steer it onto the verge. Then, without warning, a terrific explosion ripped through the vehicle. The men at the rear were thrown violently backwards by the blast, and even Minton and Cunningham were knocked to the ground by the force of it, though they were shielded from the worst by the scout car.
“The bastards have bloody booby-trapped it,” Cunningham raged, as he struggled to his feet. Minton pulled himself up and walked unsteadily over to the men who were lying on the ground near the lorry. They were stunned, bruised and lacerated but thankfully none seemed to be seriously injured. He then went round to the cab, which was now burning fiercely, but it was pointless: the lance corporal had not stood a chance.
The captain ran up with some of his men and began to tend to the injured. Cunningham pulled him aside: “Get the casualties out of the way,” he ordered, “we need to deal with that lorry.”
The driver and gunner in the ‘Dingo’ had slid back its roof and were peering over the top of the turret at the scene before them. Cunningham now turned and shouted to the driver: “Bulldoze the wreck out of the way, then go across the bridge and round the promontory over there – see if there’s any sign of the Germans along the loch.”
Immediately, the sc
out car drove off the road and manoeuvred round so that it was able to come at the wrecked vehicle from the side. Of a similar weight to the lorry and with a powerful engine, the ‘Dingo’ was soon able to push the burning hulk off the road, thereby clearing access to the bridge. Having accomplished this, the driver reversed the scout car back onto the road and then moved forward towards the narrow bridge. However, because of the limited field of view he had through the visor in the front armour, he did not see the fine wire stretched, about a foot from the ground, between the parapets at the near end.
As the scout car accelerated forward, it severed the wire and was able to progress only a few yards onto the structure before there was a loud detonation and the centre of the bridge disintegrated into rubble and a cloud of dust. Weakened by age and weathering, the centuries-old bridge stood no chance of withstanding the 5 lb demolition charge that Hahn had attached under its arch. The scout car plunged into the yawning gap that appeared in the middle of the span and ended upside down on the bed of the shallow river below. Seconds later, its fuel tank, ruptured by the fall, ignited, and there was a second explosion. This set the vehicle’s solid rubber tyres ablaze, with the result that soon a dense, black plume of acrid smoke was rising skyward.
Momentarily, everyone froze in stunned silence while grit and pebbles thrown up by the demolition of the bridge rained down on them, but then they sprang into action. Cunningham, Minton and the captain, together with several of the men nearby, ran to the riverbank to see if there was any chance of rescuing the occupants of the scout car, but it was clearly hopeless: it was lying wheels uppermost in a couple of feet of water and was well ablaze.
Cunningham was gripped by a cold fury. He looked down the track towards the promontory and then turned his attention to the river. It was only ten yards wide, and the water itself was not deep, but the banks were steep, so it would be impossible for a vehicle to get across now that the bridge was blown. “They’re trying to stop us going along the road. It seems you were right Minton – chances are, they’ve gone down the side of the loch.” He turned to the captain: “Take one of your platoons, ford the river and proceed on foot along the road. And for God’s sake be on your guard – we don’t want any more surprises.”
6.
10.03 – 10.13 hrs: South shore of Loch Carran
They had been running for over five minutes now and were more than halfway to the place where the jetty protruded out into the loch. Hahn had caught up and was striding along effortlessly at the rear of the group. In contrast, Grace was finding the going difficult: she was wearing slip-on shoes with a slight heel and they were not suited to running on the uneven, stony surface of the track. Consequently, she was keeping to the grassy verge, at the side nearer the loch.
As they ran around the bay, the promontory was between them and the head of the loch, so they had not seen the convoy of army vehicles sweep down the road towards the old stone bridge and come to a halt behind their abandoned lorry. However, they had all heard the faint drone of vehicle engines in the distance behind them and guessed that the army was about to arrive on the scene.
“Are those the lorries that were following us?” Grace asked breathlessly, addressing the remark to Vivian Adair, who was running alongside her.
“Probably,” she answered tersely. “This is going to be a close race.”
They ran on in silence and Grace took the opportunity to examine the jetty they were approaching. It was an old, wooden structure, in places covered in lichen, and did not look very robust, but the fact that there was a boat tied up at its end suggested it was still in use.
A short while later, just as they were drawing near the jetty, there was a loud explosion that appeared to come from the far side of the promontory. Startled by it, Grace instinctively looked round. It was a mistake, for if she had not done this, she might have seen and avoided the small burrow hole that lay partially concealed in the grass a few paces ahead of her at that point. As it was, her right foot went straight down into it and she fell forward heavily onto the ground. Everyone stopped.
“Come on, you silly bitch,” Lukasz snarled, pulling her up, but as she tried to move off, her right leg buckled under her and she almost fell again.
“I’ve sprained my ankle,” she said, holding her foot off the ground. Her eyes began to water from the pain and she bit her lip.
“Christ! We don’t have time for this,” Lukasz shouted, letting go of her. Grace sat down on the grass and began to massage her ankle. “We’ll have to leave her,” he continued, moving round behind Grace’s back. As he did this, he slipped his right hand into the trouser pocket of his battledress and seemed to be about to withdraw something.
Vivian Adair noticed this movement and guessed he was going for a knife. She knew he would never allow a potential witness to fall into the hands of the security services. “No!” she insisted, staring at him eye-to-eye. “Grace is coming with us. It’s not negotiable.” To emphasise the point, she put her hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out the Walther just far enough to make it visible.
Lukasz glanced down at it and then shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, slowly taking his hand out of his pocket.
Grace continued to rub her ankle, unaware of what was going on above her. Vaughan, however, had noted the confrontation and realised that Vivian Adair was not going to back down. He was beginning to get a feeling that things were starting to turn pear shaped. He glanced back towards the promontory to check there was no sign of their pursuers and wondered if it might be time to start thinking about an exit strategy. “Alright,” he said at last, turning to face Vivian, “we can’t hang around arguing about this. Grace can stay here and rest the ankle for a while, and we’ll send someone back for her. Maybe it will ease enough for her to walk on–”
“I’m staying with her, then,” she interrupted.
“That’s not a good idea, Vivian, but if you insist, you two can stay here, and we three will go on and scout ahead. If everything’s ok, we’ll send Sergeant Hahn, here, back for you both.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and began to run on. Lukasz and Hahn immediately set off after him.
Vivian knelt down by Grace’s right leg and placed the briefcase on the ground. Gently, she laid her hands around the injured ankle. Grace winced.
“It’s starting to swell up quite badly,” Vivian said. “Signs of bruising are beginning to show.”
“What are we going to do now – I can’t possibly walk?”
“Don’t worry. Everything will be all right. We’ll figure something out.” As she said this, Vivian Adair got up, pulled a silk scarf from the pocket of her jacket and walked over to the water’s edge, which was just half a dozen paces from them. There, she bent down and soaked the scarf in the icy water of the loch. She then went back to Grace and, kneeling down once more, began to wrap the scarf around the ankle. Grace felt immediate relief.
As Vivian continued to bind the ankle, Grace looked beyond her and watched Vaughan and the others disappear around the point of the next headland, which marked the western end of the bay. Seconds later, from somewhere in the distance behind her at the head of the loch, there came the sound of two explosions in quick succession. Simultaneously, the women looked back towards the promontory where Drechsler’s men were dug in.
Grace wondered what was going on. “What do you think’s happening?”
“I’ve no idea, but I guess the next round of blood-letting has started.” A column of black smoke began to rise above the ridge of the promontory.
Still kneeling at Grace’s side, Vivian Adair pulled the Walther P38 from her right jacket pocket and, after transferring the pistol to her left hand, reached into the pocket again and took out the key for the briefcase.
“What are you doing?” Grace asked, a concerned look on her face.
“The security forces are close on our heels,” she replied, unlocking the case. “If it looks as if they’re going to catch us, I’ll have to dump the briefcase in the loch. I
want to make sure it sinks, so I’m going to weight it down with some rocks.”
She opened the case, folded back its top flap and picked up a couple of the fist-sized stones lying nearby on the track. She was about to drop them into the case when she froze. A moment later, she threw the stones to the ground, thrust her right hand into the case and, almost frantically, scrabbled about inside it.
“What is it?”
Vivian Adair did not answer. Now motionless, she was staring intently down at the ground in front of her. After a while, she released the case, allowing it to fall over in the grass, and passed the Walther across to her right hand. She got up slowly, flicking the weapon’s safety catch off with her thumb as she did so, and turned towards Grace, who noticed that the woman’s hand was gripping the butt of the automatic so tightly that her knuckles were white. She also noticed that Vivian had her finger on the trigger.
“Someone has taken the papers,” she said, staring at Grace and pointing the Walther directly at her.
7.
10.13 – 10.19 hrs: Head of Loch Carran
The captain in charge of the Lochearnhead detachment and thirty of his men forded the river and then set off down the track at a run. They had divided into two columns, one on each side of the track. Standing on the riverbank, Cunningham and Minton were watching them advance towards the promontory when a signaller from the radio truck came up with a message.
“This has just come in, sir,” he said, passing a slip of paper to the General.
“Damn!” Cunningham exclaimed on reading it. “Stirling HQ say the spotter plane for this zone has gone back to refuel. The ones in the neighbouring zones won’t be able to get here for twenty minutes. The ball’s not bouncing the right way, Minton.”
At this juncture, they became aware of the distant sound of approaching vehicles and turned to see the convoy of lorries from Callander coming along the road at the head of the loch.
