'Everyone still,' said Guriev, moving sideways so that the Land-Rover masked him from the tractors. 'There is only one pistol here, and I shall shortly put it inside my coat. Comrade Panin and Dr Audley will join Sheremetev beside the box. You will talk to each other and you will let the farm workers pass you without trying to speak to them . . . Tell them that I mean what I say, Comrade Panin!'
'Dr Audley,' Panin said coldly, 'this traitor is prepared to commit suicide, so I must warn you that he is unlikely to stop short of murder. It would be better if you left him to me.
'Move, then–but slowly,' ordered Guriev. 'And do not mask one dummy4
another.'
Audley followed Panin to stand on one side of the box, watching the deafening approach of the tractors.
Panin spoke to him above the noise: 'Please do not do anything brave, Dr Audley–and don't let your associates do anything. The man there is all the more dangerous for being alone. I don't wish to add bloodshed to my own stupidity.'
'Don't worry, Professor,' Audley shouted back. 'We're not heroes.'
The ungainly cavalcade was very close now. Audley could see Keith Warren sitting easily in the seat of the leading tractor, a battered deerstalker jammed hard down on his head. Warren swung the wheel of the tractor to bring it parallel with the line of mounds, waved gaily to Audley, and accelerated away in a cloud of diesel fumes and flying grass.
Behind him the second tractor thundered up, halting with a shudder just abreast of the group. The driver shouted unintelligibly against the roar of his own engine and pointed to the hole.
Audley shook his head and spread his hands.
The tractor driver turned off his engine and reached down out of sight, mumbling to himself. Then he straightened up and the Sterling sub-machine gun in his hands was pointed directly at Guriev.
Richardson rose from the pile of grass in the trailer, also cradling a Sterling.
'Easy there, everybody,' he said loudly. 'These things are bloody dangerous. Once you pull the trigger you can't stop 'em.'
dummy4
Jenkins, the long-haired woodworm hunter, carefully got down from the tractor. He jerked his Sterling at Guriev, who stood frozen with his hands open and his fingers slightly crooked, like an old time gunfighter.
'Hands behind your neck, comrade–slow and easy like the man said. If you'd take his gun, Major Butler, I'd feel much happier.
Richardson's quite right. These Sterlings are nasty things.'
He paused beside DECCO. 'You can relax now, Maitland,' he told the machine. 'All the silage is gathered in safely.'
Panin looked from DECCO to Audley.
Audley nodded. 'They've been listening in, Professor Panin. Like you, I had to be ready if the worst came to the worst. And like you, I rather thought it must.'
Panin shook his head. 'I am too old for this sort of thing–too rusty.
Perhaps I should have known better.'
'Major Butler. You and Hugh open that box and have a look at what's inside.'
'Dr Audley,' Panin began, 'I must—'
'Dr Audley,' Guriev broke in, 'you will—'
Audley turned his back on Guriev. Panin might not be the sweetie Faith thought him, but he had the better manners. Besides, he had no orders covering Guriev.
Faith! He had almost forgotten her. She stood at the edge of the group, white-faced: the young lady of Riga!
There was only time to smile at her, and he tried not to make it a dummy4
tigerish smile. Then he took Panin's arm, much as the Russian had taken his a few minutes earlier, and walked him back towards the corner mound.
Delicately, he must put it delicately.
'Professor Panin, if I can satisfy you I will. But you must satisfy me first.'
Panin had regained his composure. Or rather, he had reassumed his mask of indifference. He nodded.
'You've been leaking information to us from the start, Professor–
about G Tower, for instance. Just for our benefit. But why?'
The mask slipped and a look of incredulity passed across the man's face. Then it faded and for the first time Panin actually smiled.
'For your benefit?' The smile was bitter. 'No, not for your benefit, Dr Audley.'
Audley felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
'Not for your benefit,' Panin repeated.
'For whose, then?'
'Guriev's masters.'
Guriev's
