A New Kind of War

‘Shall I now attend to Captain Audley . . . sah?’

‘Attend?’ Fred’s attention snapped back to de Souza.

‘What d’you mean “attend”?’

‘Do that, Mr Levin.’ De Souza nodded. ‘Disarm him and bring him up here.’

‘ Sah.’ The RSM stamped a backward pace before moving forward again.

‘What the blazes – ?’ Fred didn’t need to act any part.

‘Merely a precaution.’ De Souza raised a soothing hand. ‘You can rely on the RSM to be as civil as the circumstances permit. He has his orders. And young dummy4

David is used to obeying him . . . And there’ll be a gun on him now if he isn’t quite what we’ve taken him to be, all these months.’

Fred stared at the RSM’s fast-receding ramrod back.

Typically, the RSM carried an issue-Sten, rather than the more exotic foreign weapon.

‘I hope I’m wrong, Major Fattorini. But if I’m not . . .

then it has to be someone inside the unit,’ murmured de Souza. ‘I’ve known something wasn’t right . . . oh, for a long time, I suppose.’ He sighed. ‘But ... it goes against the grain, rather. Because they are all Clinton’s picked men, after all.’

The cold hand inside Fred squeezed even harder. If Audley was right about Amos de Souza . . . then things were going wrong before they had a chance to do so in a way Clinton had intended them to do, and in a manner which neither of them had foreseen. But he still couldn’t be sure of that, so he must still play the game.

‘All except Audley.’ He turned deliberately back to de Souza.

‘All except Audley.’ But de Souza echoed him without nodding. ‘Except that I don’t think he’s our man, actually. Even though he fits well enough – and he’s a smart boy, I would agree.’

‘He fits ... well enough?’ Watching de Souza was more important than watching the boy’s humiliation. ‘All the dummy4

way from Greece, you mean?’

‘Yes. And he’s a bit too thick with the man Schild, who is really a most equivocal character.’ De Souza’s voice tightened. ‘And whose whereabouts I do not at this precise moment know, as it happens.’

‘But . . . isn’t Otto Schild the Colonel’s man?’ A faint echo of Schild’s Teutoburg song came nastily to mind.

‘In a sense – yes. But he’s also not what he seems, the RSM says.’

‘I thought he was ... a butcher – a civilian butcher – ?’

‘A butcher, maybe. But Mr Levin thinks not a civilian one.’

Colbourne, thought Fred. And this was his place – the Externsteine! ‘Where is the Colonel this morning?’

De Souza’s lip curled slightly. ‘He’s seeing a man about a plane – an RAF spotter-plane, at Gutersloh – to try and spot Roman marching camps east and south-east of here. Which I gather was your idea, major?’

The lip tightened. ‘I lent him my driver, as a matter of fact. Just to make sure.’

Everything was going wrong – one way or the other.

‘And . . . the other officers – M’Corquodale?

Kenworthy – ?’ De Souza looked past him suddenly, up the tracks again. ‘Don’t worry, major. The RSM has this place well staked-out, by arrangement with the Military Police and our local Fusilier battalion. So your dummy4

civilians have got in easily enough. But they won’t get out unless you are accompanying them, believe me – ’

He straightened up perceptibly. ‘And now here they are, anyway. So I take it you’d rather I withdrew somewhat, while you have your little chat? Would that make you feel more at ease?’

Not de Souza? Fred could no longer make his mind up there; only, although he experienced a certain amount of satisfaction about that, it was instantly swallowed up by the realization that, if he was innocent, then Amos had nevertheless very likely ruined Clinton’s plans with his over-intelligent innocence, by scaring off whoever wasn’t innocent with his unscheduled precautions.

‘That might be advisable, Amos.’ His mind raced ahead, trying to predict how their unknown traitor might adjust to this new situation. In such a last resort, all that was left was an ambush on the way back to Schwartzenburg Castle – which had always been a dangerous possibility in the back of Clinton’s mind.

‘The sooner we’re away from here, the better.’

Amos de Souza nodded. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’ He glanced around quickly. ‘This is a damn stupid spot for a meeting. I don’t know what’s got into the Brigadier today – it isn’t like him . . .’ He came back to Fred.

And nodded again. ‘But don’t worry. Because Mr Levin and I will watch your backs here as best we can.

dummy4

And Mr Levin has arranged a sufficient escort to pick you up just down the road to take Number 16 back safely after that.’

‘Yes?’ That was the final irony: Amos had thought everything through, to amend his superior’s defective planning. And not de Souza was certain now, since he would hardly have needed to do as much, even apart from this otherwise risky warning, if he had been the traitor. ‘Well . . . thank you.’