Part 21 (1/2)

'That will do,' I said. 'Can I have it, please?'

He went out of the room and returned a moment later with the gun. It looked about the equivalent of an English 16 bore. He gave it to me together with a handful of cartridges. 'I'll go out by a window on the other side of the house,' I said. 'When I've gone, keep the doors bolted:' I turned to Else. 'I'll circle the house and then go down to the road and persuade Kurt to bring the truck up here.'

She nodded, her lips compressed into a tight line.

'If I find it's all clear, I'll whistle a bit of the Meistersingers. Don't open up until you hear that.' I turned to Kleffmann. 'Have you got another gun?'

He nodded. 'I have one I use for the rooks.'

'Good. Keep it by you.' I broke the gun I held in my hands and slipped a cartridge into each of the barrels. I felt like a man going out to finish off an animal that has run amok.

As I snapped the breech Else caught hold of my hand. 'Be careful, Neil. Please. I - I do not know what I shall do if I lose you now.'

I stared at her, surprised at the intensity of feeling in her voice. 'I'll be all right,' I said. And then I turned to Kleffmann and asked him to show me to the other side of the house.

CHAPTER TEN.

” dropped out near some bushes and slid into their shadow. Overhead the stars still shone, bright and cold, but to the west the sky was black with cloud. The wind seemed warmer now. I pulled my coat round me and slid along the wall of the house, ran past the gate to the farmyard and crouched in the shadow of the barn. I stood there, quite still, the barrel of the gun cold on the palm of my left hand, listening to the sounds of the night. One by one I identified them - the wind tapping the branch of a tree against the wooden side of the barn, a cow moving in its stall, the grunt of a pig, the tinkle of ice knocked from some guttering by the flutter of an owl. And over all these sounds the solid thumping of my heart.

I tried to tell myself that I was a fool to be standing out there, scared of every shadow that seemed to move, waiting with a gun in my hand. But every time I nearly convinced myself that I was being a fool, the memory of Tubby's face came to remind me that Saeton was now a killer. For a long time I stood quite still with my back against the wood of the barn, hoping that somewhere in the darkness round me I should hear a sound, see a movement that would prove he was really there. I longed to know, to end the suspense of waiting. But nothing stirred.

It was out of the question for me to stand there doing nothing till dawn. Kurt was waiting down on the road and he would not wait much longer. The thing to do was to go down there and get the truck up. If he left without us ... The memory of that other journey into Berlin spurred me to action.

Moving warily I slid along the wall of the barn, past a piled-up heap of manure, through a litter of decaying farm machinery. A twig snapped under my feet. I stepped in a rut where the water was all frozen and the ice crunched under my weight. They were only little noises, but they sounded loud, and once away to the left, I thought I heard an answering movement. But when I stopped there was nothing but the sounds I had already identified.

I circled the farm without seeing any sign of Saeton. Then I started down the track to the road. I kept well clear of the ruts, moving slowly along the gra.s.s verge, brambles tearing at my trousers.

And then suddenly, out of the darkness ahead, the beam of a torch stabbed the night. As the dazzle of it touched my eyes I flung myself sideways. But I wasn't quick enough. There was a spurt of flame and the bullet thudded into my body, knocking me off my feet and sending me sprawling into the brambles that bor dered the track. Boots crunched in the frozen ruts as the beam of the torch probed my shelter. I lifted the shotgun and fired at the torch. The kick of the gun wrenched me with pain, but the torch went out and above the sound of the shot I heard a cry. I fought my way through the thicket, the thorns tearing at my face and hands, all the right side of my body racked with pain. Behind the screen of brambles I crouched down and very gently ejected the spent sh.e.l.l and reloaded. My right hand had no strength in it. The fingers were stiff and clumsy and the cartridges sticky with blood. The click of the catch as I closed the breech seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness that had descended on the lane.

My eyes had been momentarily dazzled by the torch, but as they became accustomed to the darkness again I saw the line of the brambles bordering the track, and on either side of me and behind me the slope of the ground was visible against the stars. I was in a slight hollow. If he tried to circle me I should see him against the stars. The danger lay to my immediate front. The strange thing was that now I knew he was there and was at grips with him I was no longer afraid.

Away to my left on the main road the engine of a truck broke the silence, headlights cut a swathe through the night and began to move. Frightened by the shots Kurt was pulling out, leaving us to find our own way back to Berlin. I cursed under my breath as I listened to the sound of the engine dying away. Soon all that remained was a faint glow in the darkness to the south. Then that, too, was gone. The wind rustled in the brambles. A night bird cried its call. There was no other sound.

Then something moved in the bushes to my left. It moved again, nearer this time. I raised the gun to my shoulder. There was the sound of earth being dislodged and the rattle of dry bramble branches almost at my side. I fired at the sound. From behind me, echoing the sound of my own shot, the revolver smacked a bullet into the ground at my feet. I swung round, realising how he'd fooled me by throwing earth into the undergrowth. I saw his figure crouched against the stars and let off my second barrel at it. There was a grunt and a curse as something thudded to the ground. Desperately I broke my gun and fumbled in my pocket for the cartridges.

When the gun was loaded I started forward. I knew I had to finish it off now. If I didn't I should lose my nerve. I sensed that in the trembling of my hands. I had to finish it one way or the other. Crouched low I could see his body close to the ground as he waited for me. Whatever happened now I was close enough for the shotgun to be effective. I steeled myself to the jolt of a bullet hitting. I'd let him have both barrels. Wherever he got me I'd still have time to fire.

But I didn't have to. Even when I was so close I could have blown the top of his head off he did not move. He was crouched in an unnatural position, his head bent almost to the ground, his fingers dug deeply into the hard earth. Beside him his torch glimmered faintly in the starlight. The chromium was all wet and sticky as I picked it up and when I flicked it on I saw the metal was badly dented and filmed with blood. I turned him over on to his back and as I did so his service revolver slipped from between his fingers. His left arm was all b.l.o.o.d.y, the hand horribly pitted by the shot. There was a livid bruise above his left temple and the skin had split. But apart from this he didn't seem badly hurt and his breathing was quite natural. I think what had happened was that the main weight of my shot had struck the torch and flung it against the side of his head. There was no doubt that he'd been knocked clean out.

I picked up the revolver and slipped it into my pocket. I turned then and went back into the lane through a gap in the bramble hedge. It was fortunate that the torch hadn't been put out of action, because I was feeling dizzy and very faint as I staggered up the track and without its light I'm not at all sure I should have been able to find my way back to the farm.

I was pretty Well all in by the time I reached the side door. I remember slumping against it, beating on it with my hands. But they had no strength and all I achieved was a faint scrabbling as I slid to the ground. Probably Else was listening for me. At any rate I never sang a bar of the Meistersingers, but when I came round I was in a chair by the kitchen fire and Else was cutting the blood-soaked clothes away from the wound in my shoulder. As she saw my eyes open her hand reached up and she pushed her fingers through my hair. 'You are always in the wars, Neil.' She smiled softly. 'I think you need someone to look after you.'

'Where's Kleffmann?' I asked her.

'Hier.' His big figure bent over me. 'What is it?'

I gave him the revolver and told him to go down the lane and get Saeton. 'If he's still there I don't think he'll give you much trouble,' I said.

'What happened?' Else asked.

As I told her Frau Kleffmann came in with a bowl of hot water. Else began to bathe the wound and the warmth of the water took some of the numbness out of it. 'I think the bullet is still there,' Else said after peering at the torn flesh with the aid of a torch.

'Well, patch me up the best you can,' I said. 'I've got to fly.'

'To fly?'

'Yes. The truck is gone. Kurt cleared off as soon as he heard our shots. Our only way out now is Saeton's plane.'

'But the airfield is more than a mile from here,' Else pointed out. 'I do not think you will be able to walk so far.'

'Perhaps not. We'll borrow a horse and cart from the Kleffmanns. I've no doubt they'll be only too glad to speed the parting guests.' I tried to smile at my little joke, but I didn't seem able to make the effort. I felt sick and tired. As soon as Else had finished dressing my wound I got her and Frau Kleffmann to harness one of the farm horses. They had got Tubby's body on to the cart and I was sitting in it by the time Kleffmann returned with Saeton. It was lucky that the farmer was a big man, for Saeton was still unconscious. He carried him slung over his shoulders in a fireman's lift and when he reached the cart he dumped the body into the muck of the farmyard like a sack of potatoes.

'Ready?' he asked me.

'Yes, I'm ready,' I said. I was anxious to be off. The plane was my only hope of getting back to Berlin. I knew the Kleffmanns wouldn't shelter us after what had happened, and every minute the plane stood out there in the airfield it ran the risk of being spotted by a Red Army patrol.

Else helped Kleffmann load Saeton's body on to the cart. Then he climbed up and clicked his tongue at the horse. Frau Kleffmann opened the gate for us. She spoke quickly and urgently to her husband. He nodded and the cart jolted over the frozen ruts into the lane. I called goodbye to her, but she did not answer. She just stood there, a frozen expression on her face, glad to see us go.

Kleffmann had returned the revolver to me and I kept my left hand on the b.u.t.t as it lay in the pocket of my coat. My eyes were on Saeton's unconscious body as we jolted towards the woods. Rain clouds were spreading across the night sky and when we entered the woods it was as dark as pitch. n.o.body spoke and the only sound was the creaking of the cart and an occasional snort from the horse. I kept my foot against Saeton's body. The cart jolted in the ruts and each jolt was like a knife stabbing at the blade of my shoulder. Else had seated herself so that I could lean against her and she seemed conscious of my pain, for when it was very bad she would slip her hand over my left arm.

We must have been about half-way through the woods when Saeton stirred. He lay groaning for a moment and then he sat up. I could see his face, a pale oval in the darkness. My hand tightened automatically on the gun in my pocket. 'Don't move,' I told him. 'I've got a gun. If you move I'll shoot.'

There was a long silence. Then he said, 'That's you is it, Neil?'

'Yes,' I told him.

He was sitting up now and he gave a little cry of pain as he s.h.i.+fted his position. 'What happened?'

I didn't say anything. He could think it out for himself. The silence became heavy as the memory of Tubby's death came to all of us. 'Where's Tubby?' he asked at length. 'Did you bury him?'

'No. His body is beside you in the cart.'

He said, 'My G.o.d! Why couldn't you leave him there?' And then silence descended on us again. I tried not to think of what Tubby looked like there under the blanket. The pain helped. It wrenched at my mind and made it difficult to think. I clung to the gun. If he made any move I'd use it. Maybe he sensed that, for he stayed quite still all the way through the woods.

At last we were out of the trees and dragging slowly across the flat expanse of the airfield. It was very dark. Isolated drops of rain began to fall. 'Where did you leave the plane?' I asked Saeton.

He didn't answer. Maybe he thought if he said nothing we might fail to find it. I peered anxiously into the darkness ahead. The cart jolted endlessly in the black void. Maybe the horse could see when we couldn't. At any rate the plane was suddenly there right in front of us, a shadowy, insubstantial shape. Kleffmann reined in the horse and turned to me. 'I think it is better if one of us goes and has a look round there.'

'I will go,' Else said. She eased herself gently away from me and dropped to the ground. In a moment the darkness had swallowed her. I waited, my nerves tense for the challenge of a Russian sentry. But no sound broke the stillness, only the soft whisper of the rain falling. Then Else was back. 'It is okay,' she whispered and we started forward again. Else was at the horse's head and she backed the cart against the door of the fuselage.

It was queer to think that that plane was the bridge between us and Berlin. Standing there, it was just an inert piece of metal. And yet with a pilot's direction it would set us down at Gatow. It seemed to me symbolic of the whole airlift, symbolic of the ingenuity of man to do the impossible, to jump in a few minutes from alien to friendly ground. But it required the direction of a pilot and my body cringed at the thought that it was I who had got to bridge that gap in a night of black darkness, without a navigator and with a bullet wound in my shoulder. At least it was a Dakota. I don't think I could have handled a four-engined job.

Else helped Kleffmann to get Tubby's body into the fuselage. Saeton and I were alone in the cart. I saw him s.h.i.+ft his position. 'Keep still!' I ordered him.

'What are you going to do?' he asked.