The tunnel had emerged just inside the dark edge of the forest. The barbed-wire walls glinted perhaps fifty yards distant.
The nearest machine-gun tower was at least another thirty yards beyond that, and facing in, toward the center of the camp. The goons inside would have their backs to the escape.
And any Hundfuhrer walking the outside perimeter would also be looking in the opposite direction. The tunnel engineers had painstakingly surveyed their distances, and had done an excellent job.
For a moment, his head reeled, as he understood suddenly where he was.
Beyond the wire. Beyond the searchlights. Behind the machine-gun sights. He looked up, and through the covering canopy of tree branches he could see the last stars of the night blinking in the great expanse of the heavens. For a second, he felt as if he were one with all that distance, all those millions of black miles of space.
Tommy thought: I'm free.
He almost burst out in laughter. He rolled back against the tree trunk, squeezing his arms tight around his body, as if he could contain within himself the burst of excitement.
Then he turned his attention to the task before him. A quick glance at the watch Lydia had placed on his wrist so many years earlier told him that dawn's light would begin to creep out of the east in not nearly enough time for all seventy-five men to get out. Not at a rate of one every three minutes.
Tommy took a fast look around, inspecting the darkness, and saw that he was completely alone. He gave the rope two quick tugs. Seconds later he saw the shaky outline of Number Three kicking his way free of the tunnel.
The two guards who had accompanied Hugh from the assembly yard to the command barracks were sitting on the wooden front steps, smoking the bitter German ration of cigarettes and complaining to each other that they should have searched the Canadian and seized his Players before leading him into the offices. Both men leapt up when Fritz Number One walked out of the front door, snapping quickly to attention, tossing their smokes into the darkness, where they made red ellipses of burning coal for an instant, before dying out.
Fritz threw a single look back over his shoulder, making certain that Hauptmann Visser had not followed him outside.
Then he spoke rapidly and sharply to the two privates.
'You,' he pointed at the man on the right.
'You are to go inside directly and keep the prisoner under guard.
Hauptmann Visser has ordered the prisoner's execution, and you are to make certain that he does not attempt to escape!'
The guard snapped his boots together and saluted.
'Ja wohl!' he said briskly. The guard grabbed his weapon and headed toward the office entrance.
'Now you,' Fritz said, speaking softly and with caution.
'You are to follow these orders precisely.'
The second guard nodded, listening closely.
'Hauptmann Visser has ordered the execution of the Canadian officer.
You are to go directly to the guards' barracks and find Feldwebel Voeller. He is on duty this night. You are to inform him of the
Hauptmann's order, and request that he immediately assemble a firing squad and bring it here double-time…'
The man nodded a second time. Fritz took a deep breath.
His own throat was parched and dry, and he realized that he was walking a line every bit as dangerous as the one walked that night by Hugh
Renaday.
'There is a field telephone in the guards' barracks. Tell Voeller that it is imperative that he receive confirmation of this order from
Commandant Von Reiter. Imperative! He is to do this without delay! In that way, he will arrive back here with the firing squad before the prisoners have awakened!
This must all be accomplished quickly, do you understand?'
The man threw his shoulders back.
'Confirmation from the commandant ' 'Even though it means awakening him at his home…'
Fritz interrupted.
'And returning with the firing squad. As ordered, corporal!'
Fritz Number One nodded slowly himself, then dismissed the guard with a wave. The man pivoted and took off at a run, pounding up the dusty camp road toward the guards' barracks.
Fritz hoped the telephone in the hut was operating.
It had a nasty habit of failing three out of four times. He swallowed hard and dry. He did not know whether Commandant Von Reiter would confirm Hauptmann Visser's order or not. He knew only one thing: Someone was going to die that night.
Behind him, Fritz Number One heard the door open and boot steps on the wooden planks. He turned about and saw Hauptmann Visser exiting from the offices. He, too, snapped to attention.
'I have given your orders, Herr Hauptmann. A man has gone to bring
Feldwebel Voeller and a firing squad.'
Visser grunted and returned the salute. He stepped down from the stairs and looked up into the sky. Visser smiled.
'The Canadian officer was correct. It is a fine night, do you not think, corporal?'
Fritz Number One nodded.
'Yes sir.'
'It would be a fine night for many things.' Visser paused.
'Do you have an electric torch, corporal? A flashlight?'
'Yes sir.'
'Then give it to me.'
Fritz Number One handed over the flashlight.
'I think,' Visser said, still peering up into the dark heavens, before lowering his eyes and sweeping them across the expanse of the camp, and the wire that glinted in distant lights, 'that I shall take a bit of a walk myself. Just to take in a little of the fine night air, as the flying officer so helpfully suggested.'
Visser clicked on the flashlight. Its weak spray of light illuminated the dusty ground a few feet in front of him.
'Make certain that my orders are followed without delay,' he said.
Then, without another look, Visser started off, marching quickly, with determination, heading toward the line of trees on the far side of the compound.
Fritz Number One watched for several minutes, alone in the darkness outside the administration building. He was torn between the conflicts of orders and duties. He understood, however, that the commandant, who was his great benefactor, did not approve of Visser operating unseen.
Fritz thought it ironic that his job at the camp required him to spy on both types of enemies.
He gave the Hauptmann a head start of another couple of minutes. Just to the point where the weak light the officer held in his only hand had almost disappeared in the faraway darkness. Then Fritz Number One stepped out from the front of the building and moving steadily through the last of the night, followed after him.
Tommy kept moving the escaping kriegies through the tunnel in sturdy, slow fashion, patiently sticking to the timetable that the band leader had told him, tugging on the rope every two to three minutes. Flier after flier launched himself through the ragged hole in the earth and crawled to the base of the tree, where Tommy remained poorly hidden. A couple of the men seemed surprised to see him alive. Others merely grunted before disappearing into the woods that stretched out behind him. But most of the kriegies had a quick, reassuring
