enough to know what to do next.
‘There’s something in that wreck down there that opens a whole can of worms for… for someone. And it’s that very same someone who’s sent in these fucking psychotic hitmen.’
‘That’s great, Chris, but that isn’t telling us a whole lot.’
Mark was right. They were going to need to find out more than they already knew if they were going to walk away from this in one piece. For a start, they needed to know what was in that plane wreck that was so damned important, and maybe then, if they could find that out, they’d have an idea of who the hell had released the rottweilers on them.
He realised there was only one thing they could do right now. ‘We have to go back for this guy Wallace,’ said Chris.
‘No way am I heading back down that road to Port Lawrence. No fucking way,’ Mark answered adamantly.
‘It’s the only way we’re going to find out who’s after us. I know that wily old bastard knows far more than he let on this evening. I mean, he was really twitchy, like he knew someone was closing in on us. He knows who those guys work for, Mark, I’m sure of that. He knows who they work for, and what’s out there under the water.’
Mark drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. ‘So what do you suggest we do?’
‘I know where he’s staying. We drive right back in and grab him, and then we run like hell.’
‘I see. And we happen to run into these guys again?’
‘I’ll kill them both with my death-ray eyes.’
Mark nodded. ‘Great, well that’s that covered, then.’
Chris grinned nervously. ‘We’ll get that old boy… and then he’s going to spill it all even if I have to pull his fingernails out to get him talking.’
A thought occurred to Mark. ‘They may have already got to him.’
And if they had, Wallace surely would already be dead. If Chris, with the little that he knew, was a liability worth silencing, then Wallace most definitely was.
‘We’ve got to try, though, Mark. I can’t think of anything else to do.’
‘We could go to the police.’ Mark puffed out air. ‘This is some heavy-grade shit you’ve walked into, Chris.’
‘Don’t I know it.’
They sat in silence, the only sound the waves from the sea pounding the beach a few hundred yards away, and the gentle idle of the Cherokee’s engine.
‘And anyway, I’ve still got this,’ said Chris, lifting his hand up so that Mark could see from the moonlight what he was holding.
‘Sheesh! You got the safety on?’ said Mark, reaching out for the weapon and tilting it away from his head. ‘That’s a Heckler and Koch you got there, and — ’ his fingers sought out the safety control lever on the left-hand side ‘- now the safety is on.’
Chris drew in a gasp. ‘It was off? Shit, I’ve been fondling the bloody thing since we left my room. Lucky I haven’t shot a hole through my bollocks.’ He laughed anxiously.
Mark nodded. ‘Very lucky. HKs have a light trigger.’
Chris looked at the gun in his hand, wondering if he had the guts to use it. He hadn’t fired back at that hitman in the motel, but then he hadn’t even been aware that he’d still been holding on to it until now.
Mark must have read his mind. ‘No point taking it unless you’re prepared to use it. You wave that thing around in front of guys like that, and they will take you down in a heartbeat.’
Chris felt the cold, dead weight in his hands, and the odd, overpowering sense of comfort it gave him. ‘I’ll use it if need be.’
‘You ever trained with weapons, Chris? Ever fired a gun?’ Mark asked. ‘I’m not sure this is one of your better ideas.’
Chris flicked the safety lever upwards and downwards. ‘Okay. Safety on… safety off… right… that’s me trained up. We should go now, before I chicken out.’
Mark looked sternly at Chris. ‘Grab him and we run?’
Chris nodded. ‘Grab him and run, that’s the plan.’
Chapter 41
Mission Time: 5 Hours, 42 Minutes Elapsed
7.47 a.m., 2 miles outside Nantes
‘We’ve definitely got a damned leak,’ said Max, studying the fuel gauge.
Pieter tapped the glass of the display hopefully with his finger; the dial remained resolutely still.
‘Shit, that’s nearly three-quarters of it gone,’ growled Pieter.
Three-quarters of it gone, and we’ve flown about one-fifth of the distance.
‘We must have taken some damage to the internal tanks and we’ve been leaking fuel since.’ Max could have kicked himself; he should have spotted this earlier. If it had been the familiar cockpit of a Heinkel he would have.
‘We haven’t got enough, Max.’
‘I know that,’ he answered testily.
There was not enough fuel left to complete the mission. The choices on how to proceed were limited. Either the mission was going to have to be aborted or they were going to have to go down with the fighters to refuel.
‘I don’t think we’ve got a lot of alternatives here, Pieter.’
‘We abort or we refuel?’
Max nodded. ‘If we abort, you know what that means, don’t you?’
Pieter knew. Major Rall had instructed them both very carefully on this potential outcome. If damage to the plane meant they would be unable to reach America, they should arm and drop the bomb anyway. At the very least, the detonation of the bomb, albeit not on the required target, would still demonstrate to the world that the Germans had got there first and had a massive destructive capability. That alone might still be enough to cause the Americans to think things over.
‘What do you think about refuelling?’ asked Pieter.
‘Let me think, let me think.’
They were approaching the last waypoint before Nantes; from there they should be able to navigate their way by eye to the airfield. It didn’t give him much thinking time. Going down with the fighters to refuel hadn’t been a part of the plan. It seemed the Major hadn’t considered what they should do if fuel became an issue. The extra tanks had been internal. Rall must have assumed they were safe from damage there.
Now Max was alone in having to make the risk assessment of doing this. If they were overrun while they were on the ground, the bomb could fall into the hands of the Americans.
‘It’s risky, Pieter. They could get their hands on it.’
Max pushed the mask to his face and switched to the radio frequency for their men on the ground.
‘ Medusa calling, what is your status?’
He was about to call again when a reply came back.
‘ Medusa we are ready for you now, come in as quickly as you can.’
‘How long can you hold there?’
There was some delay in the answer; when it finally came, it was a different voice that answered. ‘Half an hour, possibly as much as an hour if we’re lucky.’
‘It’ll take about twenty-five minutes to refuel the plane, if we forget the extra tanks,’ said Pieter. ‘Would that get us there?’
Max let his mask fall away again, so that their conversation remained between them. ‘It should do, this plane has a 4000-mile one-way range without them. It should get us there, with very little to spare, though.’
He heard Stef’s voice over the interphone. ‘Approaching waypoint seventeen.’
Pieter looked at Max. ‘Come on, we can’t throw it away now.’
