by James Rouch
NINE
‘I don’t know what this lot is for, but smash it anyway.’ Hyde stood back as Dooley set to work destroying the radio equipment, using the hunting rifle as a sledgehammer. ‘Soon as that’s done, seeing as how you’ve warmed yourself nicely, go outside and scout around for any more gear they may have stashed.’
None of their prisoners had spoken, or made any move to intervene when Andrea had grabbed the woman by the hood of her ski-suit and dragged her into the middle of the room, before closing the door. Hyde’s brief questioning had failed to elicit any response from them either, save for an accentuating of the curled-lipped arrogance of the young man. That had been sufficient to tell him that one of the group at least understood English, and now Hyde had a second go.
‘Do you have a first-aid kit? Bandages? Do you have bandages? Oh, I’m wasting my fucking time with this bunch. Andrea, keep them covered. Ripper, give me a hand here.’
Close to, the woman was older than he’d at first thought, well into her forties and looking it, though the pain she was in was probably not doing much for her. She lay on her back. Hyde brushed aside the weak attempt she made to stop him, and unzipped her suit. Heavy breasts, unrestrained by a brassiere, sagged sideways but still made appreciable mounds through her several layers of clothing. ‘Not much blood, can’t find the sodding entry point, where did you get her?’
Tentatively Ripper bent down, gingerly pulled her arm away, and indicated an almost invisible tear in the material just above her thick waist.
For the first time she made a noise as Hyde half-turned her to pull the suit off the shoulder. It was too tight a fit, and instead he had the American hold her, while he inserted his fingers in the rent and tore the tough synthetic fabric. She gave a small bleating cry as he shoved her arm out of the way so that it flopped across her breasts, and scuffed up her jumper to expose the wound.
‘Very neat.’ Hyde examined the slim cut. ‘If we could fix bodies the way we can clothes, this would be a good case for invisible mending. Keep her on her side.’
‘I didn’t know she was behind me, I mean I didn’t know it was a woman.’
‘What’s that got to do with it? If it would have been right to do it to a man, why’s it wrong to do it to her?’ Hyde took a small automatic pistol, and a clip of ammunition from a pocket which moving her had revealed. ‘I’m starting to think this crowd are not your standard tourists. Give me your field-dressing, then go through their things, search every pack and…’ Hyde winced at the amount of crashing and banging Dooley was managing to produce as he thoroughly demolished the radio and rifle, ‘…and tell that big ape I said to destroy them, not atomise them. He can do the other job I gave him.’
With a final tremendous blow that ripped the front panel from the radio and the butt from the rifle, Dooley finished, and took a surreptitious peek at the woman’s breasts, pushed up and together by the folds of clothing rucked beneath them. ‘Nice pair of tits. Think they’ll, she’ll, make it?’
‘Who knows, she’s in shock, maybe.’ As the closing door sent a flurry of flakes across the floor of the room, Hyde smoothed the tapes securing the wad of absorbent dressing, pulled the woman’s thick roll-necked sweater down and tucked it into the ski-suit as best he could. The additional bulk beneath the suit, added to the woman’s ample proportions, prevented him from fastening it completely. He hauled her to the wall near their other captives, and propped her against it. She fainted as he did so.
‘Nothing much in these, Sarge.’ Picking up the last of the packs, Ripper emptied them on to the floor and scattered the contents with the toe of his boot. ‘Mostly food and spare clothing. Found these though.’ He held out a small hammer and half-empty cellophane pack of masonry studs. ‘This is what they used to fasten those blackout curtains.’
‘They came prepared for just about everything.’ Hyde kicked the remains of the radio, and it tumbled to the feet of the man Dooley had flattened. He was nursing his shoulder and his face was bruised, he jumped, misinterpreting Hyde’s action and taking it as a threat.
That would be the one; to work on to get information. Sergeant Hyde had seen the same symptoms displayed before…the civilian’s nerve had gone. The tensions surrounding whatever it was their party were involved in, the assault, and the wounding of the woman had combined to reduce him to a shivering, cringing wreck.
‘Soon as Dooley’s back we’ll move. I’m beginning to get a glimmering of what’s going on here. I don’t know what the details are, but it’s obviously part of some larger set-up, and I don’t want us being caught in the middle of somebody else’s grand plan.’
‘What do you reckon they’re up to then, Sarge?’
‘Are you really so stupid?’ Andrea’s tone dripped contempt for Ripper’s innocent question. ‘Do you really not know what these worms are?’ While she spoke her eyes stayed locked on the prisoners, the barrel of her rifle slowly panning back and forth across the group. ‘In your own country there was a left wing orchestrated cry of ‘witch hunt’ every time a man with intelligence, with integrity tried to weed them out. In Britain that tactic was rarely needed to protect them. Their type were able to worm their way into the highest places in the government and the administration, even into the secret services, where still that country suffers from the harm they did.
These are Communists, the lowest form of animal life, who sell their country for money, or the promise of power. We should finish them now.’
‘No you bloody don’t, you’re not appointing yourself chief executioner again, not while I’m leading this patrol.’ Hyde kept a casual grip on his rifle, but held it so that he could bring it to his hip and fire in an instant. ‘The major wants this lot, and I’m not about to go back without them. We’ll let him do the judge and jury bit.’
‘What else could they be, why else would they be here?’ She momentarily turned her head towards Hyde, and her dark eyes flashed frustration and fury.
‘I don’t know, perhaps they are Commies. We’ll find out when we get them back to the house, until then…’
‘Tanks…’ Dooley threw open the door, and stood clutching his chest as he gasped for breath, ‘…fucking -Russian tanks, two of the buggers, with infantry, coming this way.’
‘Get those lights out. Put the woman on that little sledge, move…’ Hyde never got to finish the sentence.
As Ripper went to pick up the woman, he momentarily blocked Andrea’s view of the three male prisoners. The young blond grabbed the opportunity and dashed for the door. About to extinguish a light, Dooley wasn’t close enough to intercept, and instead he slammed the door. It caught the blond on his shin, thigh, and head and there was an ugly sickening crunch as the heavy wood made contact and swept him aside. The Swede was spun around by the impact and thrown into the wall. Dazed by the blow, he didn’t even have time to use a hand to protect his face.
The other two men were easily dissuaded from a half-hearted attempt to follow him by the aggressive and threatening gesture Andrea made with her M16. They meekly allowed themselves to be herded from the tower, supporting their dazed and bleeding comrade, at the tip of her bayonet.
Hyde was last to leave and trailed behind the others, scuffing a confusing riot of marks into the snow to disguise their tracks, as they made for a clump of trees three hundred yards to the south. As they reached it, headlamps and powerful torches were throwing long pencil beams of yellow light across the snow, illuminating the castle’s outer walls.
‘Do you need further proof?’ Handing over responsibility for their captives to Dooley, Andrea knelt beside the sergeant and watched the procession of wheeled and tracked Soviet army vehicles winding up from the sea towards the ruins. Trotting infantry kept pace beside each one, often hidden by fans of snow tossed into the air by the tracks and deep-treaded tyres as the vehicles turned.
The lieutenant’s body lay close by. Andrea reached out and prised the frost-covered image intensifier from its grasp. ‘This is hardly needed, they are
not bothering to black-out.’
That fact was already apparent to Hyde, who was watching the activity around the door to the tower. ‘No, they’re acting as if they’ve got a right to be here. Either Sweden has gone over to their side, or it’s had another bloody concession wrung out of it. Whichever it is, I still want to get these cruds back to the major, so curb that bloodlust of yours a bit longer.’
‘Sarge, I been looking at those vehicles the Commies are bringing ashore.’
Squeezing between the girl and NCO, Ripper nonchalantly leant against Andrea, until the blade of her shining bayonet gently rested on his arm and drew away to leave a neat-edged tear, several inches long. ‘Looks to me like there ain’t too much to be worried about. Apart from those two tanks, the only other wagons I can see with any sort of armament are those six-wheeled anti-aircraft rigs. Heck, they can’t hurt us with those.’
‘And what if Command send a chopper to pick us off this godforsaken lump of frozen rock when the excitement’s over. You still think they’ll be nothing to worry about then?’
‘I hadn’t thought about that.’
‘Well try thinking before you decide to exercise your mouth the next time.’ After the initial confusion and coming and going around the tower, Hyde hadn’t been able to discern any special excitement among the Russians about the absence of the four agents he’d bagged, or the state of the wrecked room. Equipment was already being moved into it, and the debris-like possessions of the previous temporary occupants thrown out. That was like the Communists though, to cut their losses. The four Swedes obviously only constituted a sideshow of some sort; it was probably a relief to the commander on the spot not to have to deal with them.
There were no signs as yet that the Russians intended to start patrolling, at least none that Hyde could see. They appeared far more busy with the problems of erecting large radar dishes and antennae on the roofs of various vehicles, and guying tall sectional radio masts. Infantry, or they may have been armed engineers, were setting to work digging a seemingly haphazard scattering of slit-trenches, showing scant enthusiasm and making little progress.
‘We’d better get going in case they start to spread out a bit.’ As he began to get stiffly to his feet, Hyde heard the commotion behind him, and turned in time to see the young blond hurdle Hogg’s corpse and start for the tower. A knife protruded from Dooley’s shoulder and, even as he looked, Hyde heard the sharp snap of breaking bone as the big man forced back the bearded Swede’s head to an impossible angle.
Andrea left her rifle in the snow. Before she was into her stride her hand had found and fastened on the knife tucked into her belt. It was the weapon Dooley had given her, and as she pulled it free and came up to her fleeing quarry his words were in her mind. His lessons guided her actions, and she didn’t make the mistake of attempting to stab the running man; instead she went for a slashing cut that enabled her to keep her balance as she kept pace with her prey.
Seeing his pursuer from the corner of his eye, the blond half-turned and raised an arm to ward off the blow, red-tinged spittle flying from his damaged mouth as he made to form a shout. The heavy saw-backed blade sliced across his head and neck, from below his right ear to the top of his left shoulder. Blood and steam gushed into his collar as the tissue peeled apart, but he kept going, only now his steps were shorter, more deliberate, like an automaton.
Mouth still agape and spouting his life the Swede went down, toppling forward, not putting up a hand to fend off the impact the snow did little to soften. A geyser of blood and vapour stained his woollen hat and fair hair.
Jumping to land with both knees in the centre of her victim’s back, Andrea clenched her hands about the sticky hilt of the knife and plunged it down into his back with all the force she could muster. On the second blow, the body gave a convulsive shudder that Andrea’s slight weight couldn’t subdue, and was finally still.
She did not dismount, remaining where she was until she once again had her breathing under control. Then, slowly and deliberately, she wiped the blade on the would-be escaper’s clothing with long careful strokes. Crouched beside the body, she looked for any signs that the chase and kill might have been seen by anyone among the swarms of soldiers and technicians working within the distant oasis of artificial light. Satisfied, she began to drag the corpse back into the trees.
It was the first time she’d had occasion to use the knife, or put its ex-owner’s instructions into practice. There was much else she had learnt, and even more still to absorb; she looked forward to applying all of it as effectively.
‘Will you pull this bloody thing out!’ Dooley indicated the hilt sticking from the front of his left shoulder. ‘Every time I fucking move I feel the shitty point scraping on bone. It’s making my teeth stand on edge. I’d rather drag my fingers down a blackboard.’
‘Shouldn’t have been so ruddy slow and given him the chance to stick you.’ Taking hold of the knife with his free hand, Hyde spread his fingers about the entry point to hold back the flesh as he withdrew it.
‘I thought the fucker was half-dead. After the way he bounced off the door into the wall he should have been.’ As the sergeant began to apply a steady pull, Dooley sought around for a topic to give himself a distraction from the increasing pain as the metal started to slide from his flesh. ‘Could we move a few feet? The crud I snapped is beginning to stink. That’s the bloody trouble with doing the job by hand, gives them time for a last shit when they realise what’s happening.’
Having finished covering the blond with snow. Ripper commenced the same operation on the other body. The man’s beard was tucked tightly over his left shoulder in an extreme contortion, livid marks banded his neck, and his tongue, swollen and purple, poked final derision at the life he had fled. Foul smells emanated from the stained and steaming clothing about the lower half of his body. ‘Wait.’ Pushing the American aside, Andrea wrenched at the Swede’s clothing and tugged two belts from their loops.
‘You taking trophies now?’ Hyde watched without comment until she had finished and stood back.
‘The woman,’ Andrea indicated the glazed-eyed occupant of the sledge, now semi-conscious and moaning softly, and the bruised individual who had taken the brunt of Dooley’s shoulder-charge, ‘and that worm should be gagged.’
‘And you’d just love to do it, wouldn’t you?’ Hyde snatched the twin strips of pliant leather. ‘You know bloody well that if you half-block their mouths in these temperatures their spit-will freeze and fill their throats and kill them. If they get stroppy we’ll take care of it then, my way. Anyway, she’s struggling for every breath, I can’t see her starting to make a fuss. And the worm as you call him, well, take a look for yourself. Do you reckon he’s about to do anything heroic?’
The surviving male of the party seemed to shrink at Hyde’s words, somehow collapsing in upon himself to occupy only half the space he had before. His face was a ghastly colour, it had passed white and was now a deep-lined grey. A palsied shaking gripped his body and he held both hands to his mouth, as though he would have bitten every nail simultaneously if he could have got them all in.
‘That’ll do, Ripper. I want them covered, not used to form the base for a new ice shield.’ Shouldering his rifle, Hyde took up a trace from the sledge and forced it into the quaking Swede’s hand, almost having to drag it from his mouth to do so. Ice crusted the exposed fingers before the Swede could pull his gloves on, and he whimpered at the pain of moving them. ‘Right, if everybody is ready.’ Holding another of the lines himself, Hyde took up the slack and prepared to pull.
‘I were kinda thinking we ought to be making a move.’ Alternately using borrowed binoculars and an image intensifier, Ripper had been maintaining surveillance of the Russian encampment. The three Gecko missile launchers had left the main body of the landing party and were motoring towards their cover. A command car, its canvas top erected and its windows thickly misted, headed the procession. ‘They ain’t coming on like they were looking
for trouble, but if they intend to set up shop around here, then we are, if we don’t get our tails out of here.’
Pushing back his hood, Dooley looked up at the tops of the trees. ‘So do I, but I think we might have screwed the timing. Down!’
Faint at first, it grew rapidly louder, a buzzing whirring sound that raced up the audible range until it filled the air and assaulted their eardrums, almost drowning Dooley’s shouted warning. Flying snow stung their faces, caked their clothes and plugged their nostrils. A helicopter’s landing lights briefly seared night from the woods as it passed over, lighting the scattered bodies like day as Hyde’s squad joined the corpses in the cover of the snow.
TEN
‘Those Ruskies must be planning a long stay, that’s a lot of equipment they’re bringing ashore. There can’t be much left in that transport by now, apart from the crew, fixtures and fittings.’ Squinting at the surface radar screen, Cline watched the trace of a landing craft as it made another journey from the Ivan Rogov’s flooded stern dock back to the north of the island.
‘The air-watch radar also showed activity. Five full loads of personnel and stores had already been ferried to the island by the big transport helicopter they had seen manhandled from the Rogov’s battered hangar. It was approaching the ship again for another landing on the forward well-deck, where the TV display showed further crates and crowds awaiting it.
‘Pity there isn’t a nice thick minefield strung out across the island, between them and us.’ York took his headphones off and rubbed his ears.
‘Minefields are OK in some tactical situations, like protecting flanks, but not here.’ There was a burning sensation at the back of Revell’s eyes; he would have rubbed them but they were already sore. In a minute he’d go and get another scoop of ice to cool and soothe them. Sleep would have been better, but there wasn’t the time for that luxury. ‘No, if we set a few the Ruskies could either jump back into their boats and nip round them, or into that chopper and hop over. All we can do is hide, that’s our only defence from what’s piling up against us.’
