403I'd been hit by Delgado at Reefers Wharf and was rushed to the clinic. Lying in bed I felt so frustrated because I couldn't speak.'
'But you did speak. You gave us the clues about getting to Hamburg. Which were vital.'
Keep her talking, he thought. It will keep her mind off the heat, the present situation.
'Then,' he recalled, 'you had a really tough time when you were grabbed by Delgado in Flensburg. But you saved yourself.'
'I'm glad I choked him with those handcuffs,' she said with satisfaction. 'Some people would be haunted by that kind of experience. I won't be. It was a case of him or me – and I was determined it wouldn't be me. Like Bedford Square. If Barton had come down those steps I was going to snatch the bottle from the tramp, hold it by the neck, smash it and shove it in his rotten face.'
'Well, I doubt that we'll see them again.'
The light aircraft with Barton at the controls and Panko next to him was now flying some distance away from the quarry. It was a deliberate manoeuvre on Barton's part.
'Where hell is blue Mercedes?' Panko asked.
'We'll just have to hope it reappears on the road it was on, keeping our distance well clear of that road.'
Barton was as puzzled as Panko. Earlier the Mercedes had at one moment been driving along the road, then it had vanished. The disappearing act had happened while Barton was flying the aircraft further away from the road to avoid being spotted.
When he had turned the plane round the car had gone. Barton had not seen the quarry and couldn't imagine where the car had gone. If it was hiding from them he couldn't see where it could have hidden. There were no convenient barns it might have slipped inside. No buildings of any sort as far as they could see. He took the plane to a greater altitude.
'We tell Thunder?' Panko suggested.
'Oh, that would be really smart. We phone a powerful man like that and say sorry, we've lost it. He'd give us a medal, I don't think.'
'Phone Oskar?'
'Oh, sure. Phone Oskar, a man who bites your head off when you don't get something right. Any more brilliant ideas, Panko? If you have, keep them to yourself.'
'Try to help…'
'Panko, I'll tell you how to help. Sit still. Keep your friggin' trap shut.'
Moke had darted through the hole in the hedge after Alan, had crawled through the deep grass, was now opposite the entrance. He held back opening fire while Alan, crawling almost at the speed of a rabbit, reached a hole facing the bottom of the slope below where Harry crouched in his cave. Alan rushed across the road, paused at the foot of the slope, looked up, saw nothing, began to ascend the slope, keeping below the rim, an automatic rifle in his right hand.
While this happened Brad, with Stu beside him, was revving up like mad. He nodded to Stu to warn him. Stu raised his automatic rifle, nursed a grenade in his lap, gripped well above his knees.
Miller was halfway up the slope on his side of the quarry, crouching low. He wanted to reach the summit while the jeep careered round the interior of the amphitheatre, keeping the enemies' heads down. He held his automatic rifle in his left hand – he was left-handed. He heard the jeep take off, wished he could see it, but dared not risk giving away his position.
By now Moke was blazing away, sending a hail of bullets at the sandpile on the left. He paused just before the jeep appeared, swung inside the quarry. Then he resumed his relentless firing. Moke thought the operation was going well.
In Tweed's cave, Paula, hearing the jeep starting to rev up, suddenly stood up, began climbing the sand slope above her before Tweed could stop her, before he could say a word.
Her ascent was swift. In her right hand she held the last grenade. Marler and Butler, stationed on the far side, saw her wriggling figure, fighting its way higher and higher. Both men were paralysed with fear for her. She was totally exposed.
'You crazy cow,' Marler said aloud, appalled, certain she wouldn't survive.
Tweed stared up, terror-stricken for the first time in his life. He had never felt more helpless, more affectionate, even thought of going up after her. Nield, also looking up, sensed what was in his mind.
'Stay where you bloody well are,' he snapped. 'Marler put us here. So here we stay.'
As he spoke he had grabbed Tweed by the arm, to imprison him in the cave. Tweed nearly hit him to gain his freedom, then realized the sense of what Nield had said so ferociously. He continued watching, unable to take his eyes off her.
Paula made a last spurt, arrived at the rim, hauled herself over, breathless but out of sight of the quarry. She looked down. She looked up. Then she saw him. A tall, massively built man with white hair. He was higher up, about thirty feet away.
She had rolled over to get clear of the rim. Now she stood up, took the pin out of the grenade, hoisted her arm, as she had once done playing netball at school. Something caused Miller to look round. He saw her, saw the grenade leave her hand, come hurtling towards him. He flung himself down, rolled away from her like a top spinning, felt the ground slope beneath his body, continued the roll. The grenade landed the other side of the slope, detonated. Shrapnel burst into the air. A sliver hit him in the chest. His flak jacket saved him, but he felt a bruised rib where the sliver had ricocheted off him, tearing a second hole in his camouflage jacket. Who cared about a bruised rib?
He stood up, pulled the Magnum. 375 out of his belt, went back. Paula was looking up. His head and body appeared, no more than thirty feet from her. That was when she remembered she'd left her shoulder bag in the cave – with her Browning automatic inside it.
He aimed the Magnum at her point-blank.
The muzzle looked to her like the mouth of a cannon.
She froze, braced herself.
His eyes, staring into hers, weren't human.
He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. The firing mechanism had jammed.
'You'll get yours later, honey.'
He started hurrying up the hill towards the summit. He could have used the automatic rifle to finish her off. But the bitch had delayed him. His timetable had gone all to hell. He could hear constant shooting in the quarry below, the jeep screaming on its wheels.
Behind their sandpile Lisa and Newman had seen nothing of the near-tragedy above them. The jeep had swung in through the entrance like a torpedo. Stu was firing non-stop with his rifle, spraying gunfire round the walls of the quarry. Firing at random. Brad aimed the jeep for the blue Merc parked below the summit of the quarry.
Newman crouched by the inner end of the sandpile. He had the stock of his rifle jammed into his shoulder. Bullets from Moke's fusillade were hammering into the far side of the sandpile. The sand was so dense none of them penetrated to where Lisa crouched.
Newman aimed his rifle at the jeep's driver. In his cave, Marler had the driver's head in his crosshairs. Inside his cave, Tweed was standing up, Walther gripped in both hands, aiming at the driver's chest. All three men fired at the same moment.
Newman's bullet hit the driver in the chest. Marler's bullet slammed into his head. Tweed's bullet tore through his throat. Brad collapsed, fell sideways on top of Stu. The rifle Stu had been firing left his hands, fell out of the jeep. Stu fought to take control. He heaved against Brad's corpse, saw to his horror that Brad's foot was jammed down hard against the accelerator.
The jeep went wild, began zigzagging across the floor of the quarry at top speed. Stu couldn't reach the wheel. Then it headed straight for the blue Merc. Tweed held his breath. If their car was smashed up they would be marooned in the middle of nowhere. If they survived and started walking, the sun would scorch them to cinders.
The jeep continued its mad zig-zagging. Almost making a tour of the amphitheatre. Then it zigzagged back towards their Mercedes. At the last moment it changed direction, skimming past the car, speeding now towards the rear wall of the sand quarry. Stu, hanging on to the windscreen, was horrified to see the quarry wall rushing
