'Best I could do, I'm afraid. Have you told them what's happening?'
'As much as there was time for.'
Chavasse glanced down the line of soldiers. They looked tough and fit, but rather more intelligent than the average infantry soldier and he noticed that two of them wore glasses.
'These boys are really technicians, aren't they?' he said. 'Electronics experts.'
'And good soldiers, too. Have no fear, my friend. They know what they're getting in to.' He nodded to the senior N.C.O., a fair-haired, handsome man in his middle thirties. 'Sergeant-Major Steiner here served for five years in the French Foreign Legion Paratroops. He was at Dien-Bien-Phu.' He grinned and tossed the Winchester to Steiner who caught it expertly. 'Friend Donner may get a shock.'
One of the RASC drivers was a corporal and Chavasse moved across to him, 'What's your name, Corporal?'
'Jackson, sir, and this is Driver Benson. I don't know who you are, sir, but we're just as keen to have a go as the Jerries.'
'I'm sorry,' Chavasse said. 'But one of you will have to stay to take the Land Rover into Mallaig to notify H.Q. of what's happening.' He turned to Asta. 'You can go, too, Asta. You'll be able to tell them everything they need to know.'
She nodded, her face pale. 'What about Ruth?'
'She doesn't seem to be around so she must have gone down to Loch Dubh with Stavrou. Just forget about her. No one can help her now.'
Corporal Jackson tossed a coin, catching it neatly as Benson called. He extended his palm. Benson looked at the coin and his face dropped.
'All right, sir. I'll take the young lady into Mallaig.'
Already von Bayern and his men were moving out and Chavasse turned to Asta and groped for her hand. She looked up at him, her eyes shadowed.
'Take care, Paul.'
'Don't I always?' he said and went after the others.
There was silence in the hall when he had gone and she stood there looking suddenly very young. Benson coughed and cleared his throat. 'We'd better get going, miss.'
'Just give me a moment,' she said. 'I'd like to see them leave.'
She moved to the window and watched the small knot of men running across the meadow beyond the poplar trees to where the Beaver squatted at the far end. It was an excellent take-off, she'd had enough experience of flying to be able to tell that and the plane banked in a great sweeping curve to the right when it was no more than two or three hundred feet in the air, and turned out to sea.
'All right now, miss?' Benson said.
She nodded slowly and they crossed the hall and went out into the courtyard at the rear of the house. The Land Rover in the garage was the one Murdoch had driven earlier that morning and still carried the fake insignia which had been used to fool von Bayern's party. Obviously Stavrou had driven to the loch in the other one.
She climbed into the passenger seat and Benson got behind the wheel. The starter rattled hollowly when he pressed it, but the engine refused to turn over. He tried the choke with no better success and cursed.
'Sounds as if the damned thing's been immobilised, miss. I'd better take a look.'
He walked round to the front of the vehicle and Stavrou appeared in the garage entrance, a machine pistol in his hands. Asta cried a warning. Benson swung round, alarm on his face and Stavrou drove him back against the bonnet of the Land Rover with a quick burst.
The savage hammering seemed to fill the building, bouncing back from the walls and as Benson spun crazily and fell to the floor, Asta saw Hector and Rory Munro emerge from the back door of the house on the other side of the courtyard.
Stavrou fired, a line of bullets cutting across the wall of the house as he swung, smashing a window, catching Rory Munro as he jumped for the shelter of the door after his father.
Stavrou turned, his face terrible in its calmness and Asta reached for the Land Rover's heavy steel starting handle, scrambled out and backed away from him. He placed the machine pistol carefully on the bonnet of the vehicle and moved towards her.
She threw the starting handle at him with all her strength and, as he ducked, ran for the other side of the Land Rover. He caught her by one arm, moving with amazing speed for such a big man, swinging her hard against the wall and struck her back-handed across the jaw, knocking her unconscious.
15
Sitting in the cockpit of the Beaver beside von Bayern, a chart on his knees, Chavasse saw Fhada lift out of the sea on the horizon, a grey hump under cumulous clouds, the great six hundred foot cliffs at the northern end wreathed in mist.
They were flying at no more than two hundred feet above the sea, the German's hands steady on the wheel. Rain rattled against the windows and, below, the grey-green surface of the sea was whipped into white-caps.
'If we come in from the north, the cliffs should conceal our approach,' von Bayern said.
'What about the wind direction? Will it be okay for landing?'
'Good enough. It's the down-draughts from those cliffs we'll have to watch for.'
He turned to starboard a couple of points, running north-west into the Atlantic and when the cliffs of Fhada were to port, altered course again, dropping towards the sea, making his approach at no more than a hundred feet.
The great black cliffs, streaked with guano, reared above them and, below, Chavasse saw a shining expanse of wet sand a quarter of a mile wide.
Von Bayern took the Beaver in on a dummy run, feeling for the wind and a cross current from the island caught them so that they rocked violently. He swung the wheel full circle, taking the Beaver out to sea again, banked, and came in low over the waves, throttling back and dropping his flaps.
The wheels seemed to touch the surface of the water and then they were down, biting into the hard wet sand and the jagged rocks at the base of the cliffs rushed towards them. To Chavasse, it seemed as if they might never stop and then, suddenly, the Beaver was turning to port, completely under control.
After the engine was switched off, the propeller spun for a moment or two and then stopped. Von Bayern turned and smiled through the silence. 'A nice plane. He certainly keeps her in good trim, I'll say that for him.'
'I'm beginning to wonder how we won the war,' Chavasse said and he turned and followed Sergeant-Major Steiner through the cabin door.
The coldness hit him at once and the light rain blowing in from the Atlantic carried the sharp promise of winter with it.
The Germans stood together in a group talking in low voices. Chavasse noticed that Corporal Jackson was joining in and called him over. 'You know some German, then, Corporal?'
Jackson grinned. 'Should do, sir. I've spent enough time in B.A.O.R. My wife, Hilda-she's from Dortmund.'
'Good show,' Chavasse said. 'That's what we're going to speak from now on.' He turned to the rest of the party as von Bayern got out of the plane and said in German, 'This is a military operation, so far as I'm concerned, Colonel von Bayern is in command.'
'Thank you, Paul.' Von Bayern smiled briefly and addressed the men. 'Always supposing that our arrival hasn't been spotted, we have one advantage-complete surprise, plus the fact that you are all familiar with the terrain of the island and layout of the camp, from your two-week period of instruction and briefing in Germany before leaving. Speed is essential, so I don't propose to waste any more time in talk. Our first objective is the armoury. How we get inside is something I shall decide when we get there.'
He nodded to Chavasse and they turned and led the way along the base of the cliffs. From the sea, they had
