the fortress, stunned both Paco and Macek into temporary silence. To Lindsay's great relief. He could listen – with a pilot's ear.
He stood with his head cocked on one side. Flying very slowly. Almost lowest possible speed. Much lower and the engine would stall. As he thought, it was describing a circle – round the perimeter of the plateau.
Perching both hands on the stick to steady himself, he stared up through the foliage, craning his neck as he sought a loophole through which he might glimpse the plane. Then he saw it. The machine, tilting. The pilot's head, craned like his own – but staring down through the goggles.
'What are you getting so agitated about?' Paco asked. 'The Germans are always flying over Yugoslavia.
'Was a machine like that flying overhead just as 1 woke up?'
'Yes, there was an aircraft…'
'And how many times today has a German light aircraft flown over this area? Think, for God's sake.' 'All right..!' Paco began to protest.
'Six times, I think,' Macek broke in. 'This is the sixth..
'And it's only eleven in the morning…` Lindsay checked his watch.
'I kept it wound up for you,' Paco snapped.
'Six times. I see! That plane was so low it knew what it was looking for, where to find its objective. Hear it flying away?'
'I told you…' Paco began again.
'Heljec must be warned a major bombing attack – maybe even a parachute landing – is imminent. We must evacuate this area at once.' Lindsay's tone was terse, decisive. 'How many men have you billeted up here?'
'Thirty men – the whole unit,' Paco replied. 'Now, look, Lindsay. There's no point in starting a panic.
'No! You listen! Heljec may be the expert at ambushing trains, shooting Germans – including prisoners where he can – at sacrificing civilians wholesale for the greater glory of Communism. A fat lot of joy some of those poor bastards left in the gorge are going to get out of any fanciful Communist paradise. Heljec may be expert at all these things – but when it Goddamn well comes to planes he'd better go back to school. I know the warning signs. I saw enough of them when I was foot-slogging it to Dunkirk after my machine went down. Where's Heljec?'
'In the fort.'
It was Macek who told him. The sound of the spotter plane had faded to the distant hum of a bee on a summer's day. Lindsay grabbed Paco's arm, took a firm grip on his stick and hustled her up the slope to the fort's entrance. Despite his physical weakness his certainty of the appalling danger was producing adrenalin at a tremendous rate.
He paused at the sight inside the fort. Heljec was crouched with Jovanovic over a map spread out over a large rock. On the ground against a crumbling wall slumped Hartmann. The side of his jaw was discoloured with a recent bruise. He grinned wryly at the Englishman.
Lindsay addressed the Abwehr man in German, taking no notice of Heljec who had spun round and was glaring at him.
'How did you get that bruise, Hartmann?'
'I tried to warn this stupid brute – a spotter plane has been over and the next thing will be…'
'I know. Leave it to me.' He turned to Paco, still ignoring Heljec who was showing signs of growing annoyance. He pointed his stick at the Serb. Taco, you once said it was often difficult to get people to do the simplest things – a remark I was not too appreciative of at the time. Now, tell this stupid brute what is coming to him if he doesn't instantly sound a general alarm and evacuate. Tell him I'm a pilot and know about aerial warfare. He's about to be annihilated!' . Paco began speaking rapidly. At one moment she stamped her foot. In his frustration at this waste of precious time Lindsay walked backwards and forwards with his stick. Jovanovic joined in the heated conversation. Paco turned to Lindsay.
'Tell me again quickly your reasons. Forcefully. Heljec will be watching you.'
He repeated what he had said. One. Two. Three. Finally he turned on the giant and raised his stick like a weapon.
'Tell him if he doesn't act quickly I'll beat some sense into him with this stick,' he shouted at the top of his voice.
She spoke only a few words when Jovanovic interrupted her and made a gesture beyond the fort, rolling up the map as he finished. Heljec ran through the exit and out of sight.
'Your threat to attack him convinced him,' Paco said. 'We are evacuating at once…'
As they emerged from the fort Lindsay was astounded to witness the sudden appearance of Partisans everywhere. They seemed to rise out of the ground from invisible trenches. He followed Paco to the edge of the plateau where the terrain dropped steeply in a series of gullies. She stopped to help him but he waved her on.
'Just show me the way. I'll keep up. Good God, there's Bora. The devil looks after its own.'
The descent was precipitous and Lindsay half- walked, half-stumbled down a flight of natural steps formed by rock ledges jutting from the mountain-side. Somehow he kept his balance as Paco kept glancing back and he kept waving her on, certain there was little time left to get clear of the plateau.
He remembered his case. Below them he saw Bora carrying it and below him Milic carrying another. Paco's, he presumed. As he continued the diabolical descent he thought of Hartmann and looked back. The German was a few yards behind, followed by Vlatko who carried his machine-pistol. That was when his experienced ears caught the first distant sound of a fleet of planes coming.
The guerrilla force slipped down from the plateau inside a series of deep gulches and defiles, some of which in winter would be raging torrents. The slither of small pebbles told Lindsay that.
He was now close enough to the winding gorge they were heading for to see the dark shadows on the opposite slope which were mouths of caves. Those would be their refuge and their shelter when the bombardment started. If they got there in time.
Paco stopped briefly as Vlatko called down to her. Hartmann was close behind Lindsay who still kept up a furious pace as he went on stumbling down the fiendish descent, saving his balance again and again with the aid of the stick.
'Tell the German if he attempts to signal to the planes I will shoot him instantly,' Vlatko had warned.
'For Christ's sake, he was the one who tried to warn Heljec they were on their way.' Her tone was scathing. 'Go back to your shoemaking if that's the best you can do! And shut up. We haven't much time…'
She repeated the gist of the exchange to Lindsay and then, agile as a goat, continued on her way. We haven't much time. She was right, Lindsay thought. They were almost at the bottom but now the sound of the incoming planes was an ominous roar.
The gorge was a river bed. Green water frothed and tumbled over boulders but the winter level had dropped. Paco waited, grabbed Lindsay's arm and helped him use the boulders as stepping stones. He was vaguely aware that to left and right Partisans were scurrying across and disappearing inside the caves. He concentrated on looking down, watching where he placed his feet. Then they were on the other side.
Still clutching his arm, Paco hustled him up a short slope strewn with stones which slithered and rattled under his feet. The mouth of a cave, about eight feet high, loomed up and she hurried him inside. There was a sudden drop of temperature as they paused in the gloom.
Paco was taking in deep breaths, her bosom heaving with their efforts. She saw him watching her and looked away as Hartmann arrived with Vlatko practically treading on his heels.
'Get this enthusiast off my back,' Hartmann said drily and sat on one of the huge boulders which littered the interior of the cave.
Common sense told them to retreat deep inside the cave. Curiosity – the same curiosity which brought Londoners into the streets in 1940, staring up at the German bombers overhead – took them to the mouth of the cave to see what was happening. Lindsay immediately witnessed a grim incident.
A Partisan in the gorge crouched behind a massive boulder was aiming his rifle skywards. Heljec appeared behind the man, raised his pistol and shot him dead. The Serb skipped across the river and vanished inside another cave.
'The murdering swine!' protested Lindsay.
'Heljec had given strict orders,' Paco said quietly. 'There must be no firing at the planes to give away our positions.'
She had just spoken when Lindsay heard a sound which took him back to France, 1940. The high- pitched
