‘The ones who are going to fire at the moon. Radio Colonel Lazlo at Neretva, will you? Tell him we’ll be with him before the attack. Then radio Major Stephan Tell him to leave just a holding force, pull out of the Western Gap and make his way to Colonel Lazlo’s HQ.’ Vukalovic paused for a thoughtful moment. ‘We should be in for a few very interesting hours, don’t you think?’
‘Is there any chance in the world for this man Mallory?’ Janzy’s tone carried with it its own answer
‘Well, look at it this way,’ Vukalovic said reasonably. ‘Of course there’s a chance. There has to be a chance. It is, after all, my dear Janzy, a question of options – and there are no other options left open to us’
Janzy made no reply but nodded several times in slow succession as if Vukalovic had just said something profound.
CHAPTER NINE
Friday 2115-Saturday 0040
The pony-back ride downhill through the thickly wooded forests from the Ivenici plateau to the block-house took Mallory and his men barely a quarter of the time it had taken them to make the ascent. In the deep snow the going underfoot was treacherous to a degree, collision with the bole of a pine was always an imminent possibility and none of the five riders made any pretence towards being an experienced horseman, with the inevitable result that slips, stumbles and heavy falls were as frequent as they were painful. Not one of them escaped the indignity of involuntarily leaving his saddle and being thrown headlong into the deep snow, but it was the providential cushioning effect of that snow that was the saving of them, that and, more often, the sure-footed agility of their mountain ponies: whatever the reason or combination of reasons, bruises and winded falls there were in plenty, but broken bones, miraculously, there were none.
The block-house came in sight. Mallory raised a warning hand, slowing them down until they were about two hundred yards distant from their objective, where he reined in, dismounted and led his pony into a thick cluster of pines, followed by the others. Mallory tethered his horse and indicated to the others to do the same.
Miller said complainingly: ‘I’m sick of this damned pony but I’m sicker still of walking through deep snow, don’t we just ride on down there?’
‘Because they’ll have ponies tethered down there. they’ll start whinnying if they hear or see or smell other ponies approaching.’
They might start whinnying anyway.’
‘And there’ll be guards on watch,’ Andrea pointed out,
‘I don’t think, Corporal Miller, that we could make a very stealthy and unobtrusive approach on pony-back.’
‘Guards. Guarding against what? As far as Neufeld company are concerned, we’re halfway over the Adriatic at this time.’
‘Andrea’s right,’ Mallory said. ‘Whatever else you may think about Neufeld, he’s a first-class officer who es no chances. There’ll be guards.’ He glanced up i the night sky where a narrow bar of cloud was just r reaching the face of the moon. ‘See that?’
‘I see it,’ Miller said miserably.
‘Thirty seconds, I’d say. We make a run for the far gable end of the block-house – there are no embrasures there. And for God’s sake, once we get there, keep dead quiet. If they hear anything, if they as much as suspect that we’re outside, they’ll bar the doors and use Petar and Maria as hostages. Then we’ll just have to leave them.’
‘You’d do that, sir?’ Reynolds asked.
‘I’d do that. I’d rather cut a hand off, but I’d do that. I’ve no choice, Sergeant.’
‘Yes, sir. I understand.’
The dark bar of cloud passed over the moon. The five men broke from the concealment of the pines and pounded downhill through the deep clogging snow, heading for the farther gable-wall of the block-house.
Thirty yards away, at a signal from Mallory, they slowed down lest the sound of their crunching, running footsteps be heard by any watchers who might be keeping guard by the embrasures and completed the remaining distance by walking as quickly and quietly as possible in single file, each man using the footprints left by the man in front of him.
They reached the blank gable-end undetected, with the moon still behind the cloud. Mallory did not pause to congratulate either himself or any of the others. He at once dropped to his hands and knees and crawled round the comer of the block-house, pressing close in to the stone wall.
Four feet from the corner came the first of the embrasures. Mallory did not bother to lower himself any deeper into the snow – the embrasures were so deeply recessed in the massive stone walls that it would have been quite impossible for any watcher to see anything at a lesser distance than six feet from the embrasure. He concentrated, instead, on achieving as minimal a degree of sound as was possible, and did so with success, for he safely passed the embrasure without any alarm being raised. The other four were equally successful even though the moon broke from behind the cloud as the last of them, Groves, was directly under the embrasure. But he, too, remained undetected.
Mallory reached the door. He gestured to Miller, Reynolds and Groves to remain prone where they were he and Andrea rose silently to their feet and pressed their ears close against the door.
Immediately they heard Droshny’s voice, thick with menace, heavy with hatred.
‘A traitress! That’s what she is. A traitress to our cause. Kill her now!’
‘Why did you do it, Maria?’ Neufeld’s voice, in contrast to Droshny’s, was measured, calm, almost gentile.’
480
‘Why did she do it?’ Droshny snarled. ‘Money. That’s why she did it. What else?’
‘Why?’ Neufeld was quietly persistent. ‘Did Captain Mallory threaten to kill your brother?’
‘Worse than that.’ They had to strain to catch Maria’s low voice. ‘He threatened to kill me. Who would have looked after my blind brother then?’
‘We waste time,’ Droshny said impatiently. ‘Let take them both outside.’
‘No.’ Neufeld’s voice, still calm, admitted of no argument. ‘A blind boy? A terrified girl? What are you, man?’
‘A Cetnik!’
‘And I’m an officer of the Wehrmacht.’
Andrea whispered in Mallory’s ear: ‘Any minute and someone’s going to notice our foot-tracks in the snow.’
Mallory nodded, stood aside and made a small gesturing motion of his hand. Mallory was under no illusion as to their respective capabilities when it came to bursting open doors leading into rooms filled with armed men. Andrea was the best in the business and proceeded to prove it in his usual violent and lethal fashion.
A twist of the door handle, a violent kick with the sole of the right foot and Andrea stood framed in the doorway. The wildly swinging door had still not reached the full limit of travel on its hinges when the room echoed to the flat staccato chatter of Andrea’s Schmeisser: Mallory, peering over Andrea’s shoulder through the swirling cordite smoke, saw two German soldiers, lethally cursed with over-fast reactions, slumping wearily to the floor. His own machine-pistol levelled, Mallory followed Andrea into the room.
There was no longer any call for Schmeissers. None of the other soldiers in the room was carrying any weapon at all while Neufeld and Droshny, their faces frozen into expressions of total incredulity, wen clearly, even if only momentarily, incapable of any movement at all, far less being capable of the idea of offering any suicidal resistance.
Mallory said to Neufeld: ‘You’ve just bought your self your life.’ He turned to Maria, nodded towards the door, waited until she had led her brother outside, then looked again at Neufeld and Droshny and said curtly: ‘Your guns.’
Neufeld managed to speak, although his lips moved in a strangely mechanical fashion. ‘What in the name of God-‘
Mallory was in no mind for small talk. He lifted his Schmeisser. ‘Your guns.’
Neufeld and Droshny, like men in a dream, removed their pistols and dropped them to the floor.
‘The keys.’ Droshny and Neufeld looked at him in almost uncomprehending silence. ‘The keys,’ Mallory repeated. ‘Now. Or the keys won’t be necessary.’
For several seconds the room was completely silent, then Neufeld stirred, turned to Droshny and nodded Droshny scowled – as well as any man can scowl when his face is still overspread with an expression of baffled astonishment and homicidal fury – reached into his pocket and produced the keys. Miller took them, unlocked and opened wide the cell door wordlessly and with a motion of his machine-pistol invited Neufeld, Droshny, Baer and the other soldiers to enter, waited until they had done so, swung shut the door, locked it and pocketed the key. The room echoed again as Andrea squeezed the trigger of his machine-pistol and destroyed the radio beyond any hope of repair. Five seconds later they were all outside, Mallory, the last in to leave, locking the door and sending the key spinning to fall yards away, buried from sight in the deep snow.