A New Kind of War

deference to his officers, who were now his enemies to be shot down like dogs at need, the RSM’s attitude to these Germans, who were his prize, was uncompromisingly harsh.

‘In a little while, you-will-be-coming-with me – do-you-understand?’ Levin spaced his words, as though he was addressing British Army recruits of limited dummy4

intelligence.

Number 16 drew himself up. ‘And if we do not choose to come with you?’

‘Then I’ll shoot you where you stand.’ The RSM

pronounced this threatened sentence-of-death almost with relish. ‘Don’t you make any mistake about that.’

‘I make no mistake. But your Russian masters would not like us dead, I think – yes?’ Number 16 didn’t look at Fred, but he was playing the same delaying game now, hope against despair.

‘My Russian – ?’ The RSM stopped suddenly. And then he nodded towards what had been Major Amos de Souza without taking Fred or David Audley out of his reckoning. ‘You see that, do you?’

‘I see a dead man – ’ The German’s chin came up ‘ – I see a brave man – yes?’

‘Aye. And a good one, too.’ Levin matched the German’s measured insult with cold malevolence.

‘Worth ten of you, you bugger. So don’t bandy words with me.’

‘ Heinrich –’

‘Hush, Ernst!’ Number 16 cut off Zeitzler. ‘You have made yourself very plain, sir. But I also wish to make myself plain. For I wish to speak with my friend. And I do not think you will prevent me doing so.’

‘No?’ Levin had moved as the German spoke, circling dummy4

cautiously to keep everyone in view as best he could while also flicking a quick glance at the woods across the meadow.

‘No. For I do not think your Russian masters have paid you for a dead man. But I am not yet sure that I wish to be bought, you see.’

‘No?’ Levin’s lips compressed into a thin line, with a fleck of white at one corner. Without looking down, he kicked de Souza’s fallen pistol further away. Then he drew a deep breath, and glanced towards the woods again. ‘No?’

He was expecting company, thought Fred despairingly, And . . . there were no Fusilier picquets in those woods, of course!

Number 16 nodded. ‘So ... I will talk with my friend.

For, believe me or not as you will . . . I will decide what I shall do – not you – and not your masters ... do you understand?’

For a sick fraction of time Fred thought Levin was going to make good his threat, and tensed himself to attempt the impossible. But then the long black silenced barrel came round to cover him.

‘ Don’t make me do it, sir!’ The barrel passed him, to point at Audley. ‘Steady, Mr Audley – Captain Audley

– ’ There was something close to contempt in the RSM’s warning ‘ – you were going to be the example, dummy4

not the major, Mr Audley ... so you’re already on borrowed time, Mister Audley – ’

‘ David!’ Fred held the boy back. ‘Mr Levin – ’

‘That’s enough, sir.’ Levin looked at Number 16

quickly. ‘Very well, then! If you want to talk to your friend ... it won’t make no difference. But you talk in English to him – right? And you remember ... if I can’t have you alive, then I’ll have you dead – right?’ The long black barrel jerked slightly. ‘Go on, then – talk, then!’

‘ Heinrich –’

Fred fought the lethargy of helplessness and hopelessness: Number 16 had to give in . . . and once he had done that, when Mr Levin’s friends had arrived, then Major Fattorini and Captain Audley were surplus to requirements – useless even as hostages, after de Sauza’s death – ?

‘Mr Levin!’ He felt life within him fight against logic: in killing de Souza, Levin had burnt his boats, and there was no deal left to him. But he had to fight against logic. But how?

‘Steady, sir.’ Levin didn’t even look at him: Levin knew the score just as well as he did.

‘Mr Levin . . . this doesn’t make sense – ’ His tongue was thick in his mouth, hindering the words.

‘No, sir.’ Still Levin didn’t look at him. ‘I don’t dummy4

suppose it does, to you, sir. And I am sorry for that, believe me, sir. But that’s the way of it.’

The man’s politeness clogged his brain. And, more than such insane politeness, there was bitterness and regret and loss; and he wanted to use them all to save himself, but he didn’t know how to do it because he didn’t understand what was happening to him. ‘Mr Levin . . . why, Mr Levin – ?’

‘Sah!’ For an instant Levin became his old self again.

‘ Sah –’

‘ Heinrich – now there is no choice, truly! We must go with him –