CANIDY FALLING INTO ENEMY HANDS STOP YOU WILL ACKNOWLEDGE
TIME AND DATE OF RECEIPT DONOVAK END QUOTE
Fine read it and handed it to Douglass.
"Jesus, he is mad," Douglass said.
"You have a code word for a situation like this?"Wilkins asked Fine.
"To acknowledge receipt?"
"Yes, I do," Fine said.
"You want to give it to me?" Wilkins asked, on the edge of sarcasm.
"I don't think I will," Fine said.
"I don't want to acknowledge that message."
"What?
"Wilkins asked incredulously.
"I'm not sure that was sent by Donovan," Fine said.
"Before I acknowledge it, I want confirmation."
"That will take hours," Wilkins said.
"It doesn't sound like Donovan to me, either," Douglass said loyally.
"What the hell are you trying to pull. Captain?
"Wilkins demanded.
"Canidy was there," Fine said.
"And he's not a fool. I certainly won't double guess him, and I don't think Colonel Donovan would, either."
Wilkins opened his mouth to argue, but didn't get a chance to speak. One of the operators called out.
"Hey, I got something from Vis...."
"What does it say?"
"It's not in the clear, for Christ's sake," the operator said, furiously pounding his typewriter.
Eight minutes later, the decryption process was completed:
----------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ss
FROM POSTMAN FOR CAIRO VIA STATION VIII
PHARMACIST REQUESTS EARLIEST POSSIBLE DROP RESCUE TEAM AT
COORDINATES SEVEN FOUR NINE NINE THREE EIGHT ONE EIGHT
STOP DROP MUST REPEAT MUST TAKE PLACE AT FIRST LIGHT STOP
ADVISE
It took another five minutes to find the map of Hungary and then mark the location indicated by the coordinates.
"We're how far from Vis?" Fine wondered aloud.
"Four hours thirty," Douglass said immediately.
"In the B25."
Using his thumb and little finger as a compass, Fine measured the distance between Vis and Pecs.
"That's about an hour and a quarter," he said.
"Maybe a little less."
"What about that 'must take place at first light' business?" Douglass asked.
"Jesus," Fine said.
"You're asking, how do we take off from Pecs in the dark?"
"Yeah," Douglass said.
"But we don't have to take off from Pecs. We can take off from here."
"We don't have the range," Fine said.
"More than enough, if we sit down at Pecs on the way back," Douglass said.
Fine was silent for a moment.
Then he said, "Message Pharmacist as follows. Team will be available for drop first light tomorrow."
XII
lONE]
What Canidy had imagined was going to be adequate accommodation in the large trunk of Standartenfuhrer-SS Muller's Opel Admiral quickly proved to be mildly, and then excruciatingly, uncomfortable.
Despite the generous proportions of the Admiral's trunk, he could not stretch his legs without arcing his torso painfully, nor raise himself on his elbows without simultaneously lowering his head so that his chin rested on his upper chest.
And the thick goose-down comforters and pillows that the Countess Batthyany had put into the trunk to keep him warm and serve as cushions had not been as helpful as everyone had cheerfully, almost gaily, believed. The comforter had quickly crushed down under him, so that he could feel every ridge and indentation in the trunk floor. And the comforter he had wrapped around himself for warmth, and the pillows on which he had planned to cushion his head, made things worse than nothing at all, for they retained enough bulk to get in the way when he shifted his body again and again to relieve the strain on his muscles.
He became uneasy, nervous, worried, and he began to wonder if he had some previously unsuspected problem with claustrophobia. He reasoned that through and decided his nervousness was perfectly reasonable: He was in the dark, and nobody liked that.
More important, it was fifty-fifty that von Heurten-Mitnitz was wrong when he said he "rather doubted they would be stopped at all, or subjected to more than the most perfunctory examination if they were." There was a fifty-fifty chance that the trunk lid would suddenly open and he would find himself looking up at a Black Guard, a Hungarian cop, or even a Gestapo agent. If that happened, he was not going to be in a position to do much about it. The Sten submachine gun Captain Hughson had given him in Vis was now in the hands of an admiring Yugoslav partisan. Canidy was armed now only with the Fairhairn and a snub-nosed Smith & Wesson.38, neither of which would be of any real use if the car was stopped and checked. If that happened, in addition to being nearly paralyzed by the goddamned trunk, he would be blinded by the sudden light and helpless.
There had been time to remember where he had gotten the snub-nosed38, and that hadn't helped his morale either. Jimmy Whittaker had given it to him just before they'd taken off on the mission to the Belgian Congo. Moments before that, Jimmy had taken it away from the flight engineer. The flight engineer had been given the pistol by the Chief, OSS London Station, together with an order that he use it on Canidy the moment it looked as if Canidy was going to fall into enemy hands.
It was not difficult to proceed from that to the logical conclusion that if an elimination order--to keep him from failing into enemy hands--had been issued then, a similar order had doubtless also been issued to cover this circumstance.
He knew now more information that the Germans shouldn't know than he had known when he and Jimmy had flown off to the Belgian Congo.
He wondered where Whittaker was at that moment. In Australia, more than likely, dazzling the Australian women with his good looks and all-pink uniform. Whittaker, he thought, should have been a sailor; he already had a girl in every airport.
Ann came to mind then, and he wallowed for a moment in the memory of the smell of her, and the feel, and the touch of her hand on him, and then he forced Ann from his mind.
And then he got a headache. He was suddenly aware of it, a real bitch of a headache behind his eyes and across the base of his skull. He realized that he had been aware of getting a headache for some time.
"Oh, shit!" he said aloud.
He tried to look at his wristwatch to see how long he had been in the trunk. The Hamilton chronometer with the glowing hands was now adorning the wrist of the fishing boat captain. He couldn't even see the watch he had been given in return, much less tell what time it was.
In that ten seconds, the headache seemed to have grown even worse.
And then he knew why he had a headache.
"Pull over!" Canidy shouted.
"Let me out of here!"
There was no reply. They apparently hadn't heard him. He could hear them talking. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could hear them.
He tried shouting again, and again there was no response. His voice was being muffled, he realized, by the thickly padded leather upholstery in the backseat of the Admiral; and what got through was not audible over the whistling of the wind on the convertible roof and the sound of the engine.
Then there was a momentary wave of terror. He was going to die in this fucking trunk, be quietly asphyxiated by carbon monoxide from the exhaust.
When they got to the Countess's hunting lodge and opened the trunk, they would find him dead.
He thought first of his pistol. If he fired that, they would hear it.
But where was he to fire it? Out the top of the trunk, so there would be a bullet hole for the cops to become fascinated with? Into the trunk floor, where it would pierce the fuel tank?
And what would firing a pistol in the confined area of the trunk do to his ears?
He put both hands to his head and pressed inward as hard as he could
against the pain of the carbon-monoxide-induced headache.
And then he twisted around, shoving to the side the goose-down comforter under him. He felt the floor of the trunk. It was covered with some kind of padding. He found the edge, and with a great deal of effort managed to pry the edge loose. Finally, there was enough loose so that he could grip it. He gave a mighty heave and it came loose. Now there was nothing there but sheet metal.
He balled his fist and struck the floor of the trunk with all of his strength.
And then did so again, and again, and again.
And finally, he sensed that the Admiral was slowing, and then there was the sound of gravel under the tires. The car stopped, and Canidy heard a door open. And then the trunk opened, just a crack. But the light coming through the two-inch opening was so painful that Canidy closed his eyes against it.
"Are you all right in there?" von Heurten-Mitnitz asked.
"I'm being asphyxiated," Canidy said.
"Is it clear? Can I get out?"
"Asphyxiated? "von Heurten-Mitnitz asked doubtfully.
"The goddamned muffler leaks," Canidy said.
"Just a moment," von Heurten-Mitnitz said. From his tone of voice, Cani knew that he now believed him.
And the trunk opened wide. Canidy heard the sound of the hinges and aware of more light through his closed eyelids.
"Your lips are blue," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
"Here, take my hand."
Canidy opened his eyes just enough to see the hand, grabbed it, and do;
his eyes again. Von Heurten-Mitnitz pulled him out of the trunk and led him the curbside door.
"Lie on the seat," he ordered.
"Beatrice, there's a flask in the map box. Gj it to him."
"He's sick?" she asked.
"Exhaust poisoning," von Heurten-Mitnitz said. He closed the trunk, til got behind the wheel and started off.
Canidy felt something cold and metallic at his lips. He took the flask fix the Countess and took a deep pull.
He felt the warmth spread through his body, and then something else.
"I think I'm going to be sick," he said.
"Oh, please don't," the Countess Batthyany said practically.
"You never c get that smell out of a car!"
Canidy fought down the urge to vomit and took slow deep breaths. I desire to vomit passed, and he was able after a while to keep his eyes open."!
found himself looking into the Countess's face.
"You're getting color back," she said.
"You'll be all right now." ' There was genuine relief on her face, Canidy saw, and then decided t most certainly wasn't for him. ' There was another queasy feeling in his stomach. He fought it by sith up, and it passed, but there was a wave of sharp pain behind his eyes. He took another pull at the silver brandy flask and looked out the W shield. They were all alone on a narrow, curving road cut through a dense ( est of mature pines. "Where are we?" he asked.
"How long was I in the trunk?" 1 "It's another couple of hours to Pecs," the Countess said.
"We left Budap at half past nine. You were back there about two hours." ** "What's next on the road?" Canidy asked.
"Am I going to have to get b8 in the trunk?" f' "We just went through Dunafoldvar," the Countess said.
"There's a cott( of small towns between here and Pecs, Sioagard and Pecsvarad, hardly riS than villages. You'll be all right in the back, I think."
"Do we go through Pecs itself?"
"There's a way around," she said.
"But it's dirt roads, and there's no telling how muddy they would be this time of year. And we would attract attention."
"I was wondering whether we could run by the jail,"Canidy said, "and then trace the route the truck takes moving the prisoners to the mine."
"We'll take that road anyway," she said.
"But it would be a detour to go past Saint Gertrud's."
"A conspicuous detour?
"Canidy asked.
She thought that over before replying, "No. It's on the edge of town. But we wouldn't be more conspicuous there than we're going to be anyway."
"Then please tell Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz how to get there," Canidy said.
"I want a look."
At quarter to two, the tires leaving a path across previously unbroken snow, the Opel Admiral pulled up before the hunting lodge. It was a long, low wooden building with elaborate scrollwork, now covered with dripping icicles, along the roofline. There was a chimney at each end and a much larger one in the middle. Smoke rose from one of the end chimneys, and as Canidy got out of the car, he could smell wood smoke.
"I think it would be better if you spoke German," the Countess said.
"Who's in the house?" Canidy asked.
"The caretaker and his wife," she said.
"And there are foresters in small houses behind the lodge."
"And they can't be trusted?" Canidy asked.
"Of course they can be trusted," she said.
"They have been with my family for hundreds of years. But if the Black Guard comes here, I don't want to ask them to lie any more than necessary. They don't speak German, but they recognize it.
I want them to be able to report they saw me with two German-speaking men."
"They're going to know what's going on," Canidy said.
"They will do what I ask them to do," the Countess said, "and then, because I ask them to, they will forget having done it."
Canidy's disbelief showed on his face.
"My father was active in the Independent Hungary movement," the Countess said.
"Crown Prince Rudolf used to come here secretly. If my people could forget that he was here, they can forget you."
The look on his face confused her.
"Crown Prince Rudolf was the.. she started to explain.
"Heir apparent to the Austro-Hungarian throne," Canidy filled in.
"The one who shot his girlfriend, and then himself. At Mayeriing."
"Like Standartenfuhrer Muller," von Heurten-Mitnitz said, "the Countess ems to have underestimated you, Canidy."
"And not you?"
"A good diplomat never underestimates anyone," von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
As they approached the hunting lodge, the door was opened by a hefty, large-bosomed woman with jet-black hair. The hair was parted in the middle and done up in elaborate braids.
She curtsied to the Countess, then to the men.
"She says," the Countess said, "that if she had known we were coming, her husband would have of course been here, and there would be a meal prepared.
As it is, all there is is simple boar gulyas. Paprika gulyas."
After they had eaten, Canidy was outfitted, from a wide selection, with a green loden cloth coat and lace-up boots, which were, he suspected, older than he was. Laughing, the Countess added a black cap of heavy wool.
"A real Magyar!" she said.
The caretaker showed up as the Countess -was lacing up her boots. With him was a man Canidy's age, with a double-barreled shotgun hanging upside down on a woven leather strap from his shoulder.
"This is Alois, the chief hunter," the Countess explained.
"His great grandfather was my great-grandfather's chief hunter. We will take him with us to the meadow. If there is anything that has to be done, he will see that it is done, and then he will forget that he ever saw you."
"How big a place do you have, Countess?" Canidy asked.
"In other words, how about the neighbors?"
"This estate is roughly an oblong," she replied matter-of-factly.
"It is twenty three kilometers long and about fourteen wide. There are no neighbors, and the local authorities are my tenants. If I do not wish them to see me, or anything else, they will not see me, or anything else."
"You sound very confident of that," Canidy said.
"I am," she said.
A ten-minute walk over light snow brought them to the meadow. It did not meet any of the criteria for a drop z
one. It was far too small, and it was surrounded on three sides by a mature pine forest, into which anybody who missed the drop zone would land.
W E B Griffin - Men at War 4 - The Fighting Agents Page 38
