A New Kind of War

towards Audley, and then to where Amos de Souza stood apart from them: and Amos, he saw, was directing the RSM’s attention to the menacing woods around them, and to the lake, and the rocks; while on young Audley’s face there was a mirror-image of his own feelings, uglified and brutalized by the face which God had given to the boy, which he couldn’t help.

‘No – you are right, as always!’ Number 16 accepted Number 21’s answer as untainted by self-interest, with heart-rending innocence. ‘Then we accept your offer, Herr Major: we are at your disposal, without any compulsion – we accept the word of a British officer.

Which is, of course, as strong as that of a German dummy4

officer.’

Shit! thought Fred, cutting off Audley’s face from the reckoning. ‘Major de Souza! If you please!’

Major de Souza disengaged himself from his contemplation of the Exernsteine Rocks. ‘Major Fattorini – ?’

‘We’re ready to go now. Would you ask the RSM to alert Sergeant Devenish?’ He worked at the formality of the command: because of de Souza, he no longer knew quite what would happen once they were on the road back to Schwartzenburg Castle, or thereafter. But the game had to be played to the last ball and the final whistle, regardless.

‘Mr Levin – !’ De Souza twisted on his heel, so that he was backing away from the woods. ‘Ready?’

‘Sah!’ The RSM snapped to even greater attention than before, first stiff as a board in preparation for obedience to orders, and then falling in behind the adjutant, while he attached an extension to his Sten’s barrel in a series of jerky, regimental movements.

‘Right.’ De Souza snapped open his webbing holster, lifting his arm high to clear his pistol from it. ‘As of now we assume the worst of all possible worlds until we’re in the clear – ’ his glance passed Audley, to fix on Fred himself‘ – right, major – ?’

Thump –

dummy4

De Souza jerked forward suddenly, arching his back and dropping his pistol, as his legs buckled beneath him –

“Steady, now!‘ As the RSM barked the words. De Souza continued forwards and downwards, unbalanced, as though fighting an irresistible blow from behind, until he finally sank on his knees, almost in an attitude of prayer.

‘ Steady, now!’ The RSM swung the curiously long-barrelled Sten left and right, right and left, taking them all in with it, but ending up with the muzzle pointing at Fred’s stomach.

An unintelligible groan came from de Souza, who was still on his knees, swaying in agony. And then Fred watched, hypnotized with frozen horror, as the adjutant began to reach forward towards his fallen pistol.

‘Don’t – ’ The bulbous silencing attachment on the end of the RSM’s Sten continued to point at Fred as he spoke ‘ – don’t make me do it, Major de Souza, sir –

don’t make me do it, I beg you!’

De Souza rocked slightly, but continued to stretch out slowly towards the pistol with a hand which shook uncontrollably, as though its overstretched arm was already bearing an invisible weight too great for it.

‘ Amos!’ Audley’s voice cracked. ‘ Amos – ’

Thump! This time the bullet crumpled de Souza dummy4

instantly, throwing him sideways, half on his back, with his legs kicking out like a pole-axed steer.

‘That was a pity.’ The RSM spoke slowly, his words all the more menacing for the hint of genuine regret in them. ‘Because it was not necessary as well as useless.’

‘You . . . b-b-b-bastard!’ Young Audley’s stutter was shrill with rage. ‘In the b-b- back, you fucking bastard!’

‘You want it in the front, Mr Audley?’ The RSM took the boy’s acting rank from him contemptuously. ‘I can oblige you now if you wish – ’ he made an unhurried adjustment to the sub-machine-gun ‘ – I can cut you in two before you can take another step, Mr Audley. And I will if I have to, if you want to be a hero too, like the adjutant.’

Fred’s mind began to race. They had their man now, albeit at a terrible and unnecessary cost. But now, also, they had to survive to tell the tale. So this was no moment for subaltern heroics. ‘Stand still, David.’ He looked up the track quickly. ‘And shut up.’

‘No good, sir. I have sent Sergeant Devenish and Driver Hewitt away.’ The RSM caught the look. ‘They are both guarding the road junction until I come to relieve them. And we shall not be leaving by that route.’

‘I see.’ It was no good trying to play games with the man when he was as quick as that. So what could he dummy4

do? ‘There are forest-tracks, are there, Mr Levin?’ All he could do was play for time. ‘And no Fusilier picquets guarding them, I take it?’ But, even as he spoke, the truth of what he was saying soured the words in his mouth: who better than the RSM, in his unique controlling position between the officers and the men, to know everything, and to order everything as he wished in seeming to carry out the orders of the adjutant and the commanding officer?

Christ! And, of course, to betray everything, being above suspicion himself!

‘As you say, Major Fattorini, sir.’ Levin saw through his ploy and shifted his attention to the two Germans, while carefully stepping back to distance himself from Fred, and even more from the temporarily silenced Audley, whose fuse was still more dangerously short, in spite of that recent warning. ‘Listen to me, you two –

right?’

That was curious, thought Fred with a detachment of his own which was also curious: in contrast to his