Smuts screamed at one of his soldiers: 'Hurry, -man! Load the fucking
gun!'
While the Libyan machine guns chattered and the mortar shells rained
down on the outer walls, Smuts scanned the dark rim of the bowl.
Just as he started to look away from the horizon, he saw the help he had
desperately hoped for. A hundred meters southeast of the Libyans, a
squat black shape stood silhouetted against the lesser shadow of the
falling night. A pair of halogen headlamps winked once, twice, then
died. The black shape crept slowly forward, hesitated again.
By God, that's Graaff, Smuts thought with elation. 'It's Major Graaff!'
he cried. 'He made it!' Smuts hammered his fists against the Vulcan in
triumph. If he knew Graaff, that armored car was only the spearhead of
a veritable army!
'Drum loaded!' shouted the man beneath the VulcanSmuts fired a
celebratory burst into the darkening sky, then he opened up on the
Libyans with a vengeance.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Poised on the ridge above Smuts's killing zone, Hauer watched the burst
of spectacular tracer fire lance up into the sky from the observatory
turret.
'That's itf' he shouted. 'They think Major Graaff sent us!
Go!'
'Wait!' General Steyn called to the Armscor's driver.
'Look at that tracer fire, Hauer. That's a rotary cannon. This
vehicle's tough, but they could blow us to pieces in seconds with that
gun.'
Hauer ripped his respirator aside. 'General, you gave me tactical
command of this operation!'
'I'm sorry, but I can't let you sacrifice my men without any hope.
of success.'
''They think we're here to help them! We've got a clear path to the
house!'
General Steyn shook his head. 'We need reinforcements.'
Hauer stared in disbelief. He had come too far to be stopped here by
one man's lack of nerve. He struggled to keep his voice steady.
'General, my only son is down there.
And the longer we wait, the greater the chance that he will be executed.
If I must, I'll go down there alone and on foot.'
'You won't have to, Captain.'
Gadi Abrams's pledge was punctuated by the chunk of his assault rifle
being cocked. He did not point it at anyone, but the threat was plain
enough. General Steyn's hand moved toward the pistol at his hip.
Gadi ripped his gas mask off and gave the general a look of open
contempt.
'Israel fights,' he said quietly. 'Germany fights. What of South
Africa?'
General Steyn's red face whitened. He knew he was being manipulated,
but in front of his men the Israeli's challenge
iL
was simply too personal to ignore. He leaned forward into the driver's
compartment and shouted, 'Over the top!'
Hans and Ilse dashed down the smoky corridor with towels held over their
faces. Horn House was burning, and the inner complex was sealed against
them. They had searched nearly every room in the outer triangle of the
house, yet they had seen no sign of Stern. Only panicked servants and
their children. Hans carried an attache case in his right hand; they
had brought it from Horn's study.
'Hurry!' Ilse called. 'It's the only room we haven't checked!'
As they neared the hospital unit, she wondered why she had skipped it
before. But she knew: the nauseating memory of being strapped to e
X-ray table had simply been too horrible to face again. Now she had no
choice. She felt a jolt of terror as she eased open the infirmary.
door. The room was dark, but the smell of alcohol hit her immediately.
Signaling Hans to follow, she crept through the shadows toward the
interior doors. A crack of light shone beneath one of them.
Halfway to the door, she froze. The sound had stopped her.
The terrifying buzz cut short by the low, metallic clang. Ilse closed
her eyes in remembered terror, then, opened them again. She padded over
to a countertop and felt her way along it. 'Here,' she whispered,
closing her hand around the base of a heavy niicroscopeHans set down the
briefcase and took the scope.
Ilse turned the doorknob as quietly as she could. As she pushed on the
metal door, the sound came again. Buzz ...
clang. In the eerie amber glow of the X-ray machine's dials Ilse saw a
blond man standing with his back to her. He was peering through the
thick bubble window in the lead radiation screen.
'Are your balls getting warm yet, Jew?' the man called.
He cackled wildly.
Ilse gasped.
The figure whirled.
'You,' Hans murmured.
Luhr wore his police uniform, the green trousers tucked into his
spit-polished boots. He looked first at Hans, then at Ilse. He laughed
derisively. 'You stubborn Arschloch. Don't you know when to quit?'
He dropped the cable trigger.
This time Funk isn't here to stop me.'
'He's the one, Hans,' Ilse said hoarsely. 'The one who cut the
policeman's throat in Berlin.'
'That's right,' Luhr said with a laugh. 'Just like slaughtering a
fucking pig.'
'Steuben,' said Hans, his voice trembling. He felt his throat constrict
with unspeakable hatred. He looked down at the microscope in his hand,
then let it crash to the floor.
'Frau Apfel? ' cried a weak voice. 'Is that you?'
Ilse darted around the lead shield. Jonas Stern lay pale and bloodied
beneath the leather straps that had bound her just two days ago. 'Hans!'
she'cried. 'Help me!'
Hans heard nothing. He watched Luhr's lips tighten into a thin, pale
line as he dropped his shoulders like a boxer and moved out from the
