He took the Lysander down to five hundred feet, suddenly filled with a strange fatalism. ‘What the hell, Asa,’ he said softly. ‘If you survive this damn war they’ll only give you fifty years in Leavenworth so what have you got to lose?’
He went in hard and now the fog was suffused with a kind of glow and a second later, Shaw Place, every window alight, came into view. He had always been a fine pilot, but for a moment, greatness took over as he pulled back the column and lifted over the house with feet to spare. And there on the other side were the lights of the meadow, the open barn door.
The Lysander landed perfectly, turned and taxied towards the barn. Lavinia got the doors fully open, her brother watching, and gestured Asa inside. He switched off the engine, took off his flying helmet and got out.
‘I say, that was a bit hairy,’ she said and stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Lavinia Shaw and this is my brother Maxwell.’
‘Asa Vaughan. I really owe you one.’
‘Not at all. I’m a pilot myself. Used to fly a Tiger Moth from here.’
‘Good heavens, the fellow sounds like a damn Yank,’ Maxwell Shaw said.
‘Well, you could say I grew up there.’ Asa turned to Lavinia. ‘Where are the others?’
‘No sign of Major Conlon, I’m afraid. Fog all the way from London to the coast. I expect they’ve got held up.’
Asa nodded. ‘Okay, let’s get a message out to Cher-nay right now telling them I’m down in one piece.’
At Chernay in the radio room Schellenberg was in despair for the RAF weather reports Cherbourg had been monitoring indicated just how impossible the situation was. And then Leber, sitting by the radio in headphones, was convulsed into action.
‘It’s Falcon, General.’ He listened, writing furiously on his pad at the same time, tore off the sheet and passed it to Schellenberg. ‘He’s made it, General, he managed to set that lovely bitch down.’
‘Yes,’ Schellenberg said. ‘He certainly did, but his passengers weren’t waiting for him.’
‘He said delayed by the fog, General.’
‘Yes, well, let’s hope so. Tell him we’ll be standing by.’
Leber tapped out the message quickly and pulled the headphones down to his neck. ‘Why don’t you go and put your feet up for an hour, General? I’m all right here.’
‘What I will do is go and have a shower and freshen myself up,’ Schellenberg told him. ‘Then we’ll have some coffee together, Flight Sergeant.’
He walked to the door and Leber said, ‘After all, there’s no rush. He’d never be able to get the Lysan-der in here until this weather improves.’
‘Yes, well, let’s not think about that for now,’ Schellenberg said and went out.
At Shaw Place Asa helped Lavinia put out all the lights, going from room to room. Shaw was slumped in his chair by the fire, eyes glazed, very far gone indeed.
‘Is he often like that?’ Asa asked.
She left the French windows open, but drew the curtains. ‘My brother isn’t a happy man. Sorry, I didn’t ask you your rank.’
‘Captain,’ he said.
‘Well, Captain, let’s say the drink, helps. Come into the kitchen. I’ll make some tea or coffee if you’d like it.’
‘Coffee for preference.’
He sat on the edge of the table smoking a cigarette while she made the coffee, very handsome in the SS uniform and she was acutely aware of him. He took off his flying jacket and she saw the cuff-title on his sleeve.
‘Good heavens, the George Washington Legion? I didn’t know there was such a thing. My brother was right. You are an American.’
‘I hope you won’t hold it against me,’ he said.
‘We won’t, you beautiful Yankee bastard.’ As Asa turned, Liam Devlin came through the door and threw his arms about him. ‘How in the hell did you manage to land in that stuff, son? It took us all our time to make it from London by road.’
‘Genius, I suppose,’ Asa said modestly.
Munro appeared behind Devlin, still with his wrists bound and the scarf around his eyes. Steiner was at his shoulder. ‘Colonel Kurt Steiner, the object of the exercise, plus a little excess baggage we acquired along the way,’ Devlin said.